Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1932  

Grindelwald had made everyone question everything. Their worth, their purpose, their roles in society, the reasons they hid behind the orders of the Ministry, anything to do with order and control and safety. Wizards and witches alike had begun to argue all around, comparing both sides of the coin - some wanting to rebel, others wanting to remain hidden. As of yet there had been little adverse affects to going against Grindelwald's suggestions, other than the fact you could no longer trust your neighbour for fear of them seeing things so differently.  

Aurora Scamander had seen the depths people were willing to go to remain hidden, and just how far others would go to prove a point. She stopped conversing so freely with her friendly companions, stopped sharing her opinions on society and how it was affecting everyone. It didn't seem to be her voice that mattered now, the majority of the population was beginning to side with the raw possibility of freedom and a life away from the shadows, muggles be damned. It was hard to stay under the radar as an Auror for the British Ministry of Magic, but it was even harder to keep your mouth shut when you worked in the Muggle Relations department.  

Aurora's oldest brother, Theseus, had organised employment for her not long after she'd finished her apprenticeship at the Ministry, having bounced around a little with no real aspirations. While she was appreciative, some days were difficult to swallow, especially after the rise of Grindelwald, and at times she would resent him for forcing her to take this role. He claimed it would provide a comfortable life, with safety being his main concern as she was now a trusted insider who was known for their brutal honesty, even when it wasn't wanted. She worked closely with the Obliviation Department to ensure the safety of the wizarding world and muggle-kind alike, though Aurora was one of the few that actually held a soft spot for the muggles.  

She wasn't sure why; perhaps it was their morbid curiosity to believe in something higher than themselves, or their avid fascination with the unexplained, or perhaps it was even how some were so content with their little lives that they really did not understand the true dangers of the world around them. Sometimes she would stand in the town square and just watch as they went about their day, running various errands or sharing friendly conversation. The brunette never hid from them, she didn't need to, but was always careful as to what she carried on her person because despite their more-simple understandings, they, too, had bad people on their side. Those that would steal, and harm, and take advantage of the weak, but never truly gaining much for their efforts except an increased ego, or a few extra coins if they were lucky. Aurora didn't like that - she hated bullies.  

Being a year younger than Newton Scamander, she observed the cruelty behind other's words when faced with something or someone they did not approve of. Her brother, being the quiet, self-contained yet endlessly kind wizard he was, often took the brunt of the abuse from other students. They would mock him, steal his books and belongings, threaten the creatures he promised to protect, even bring harm to them if they were bold enough at the time, but despite this, his heart never soured. Leta Lestrange was in a similar situation, finding comfort in Newt's solidarity when she needed shelter from the accusations and cruel words of other students that knew of her family's history. Aurora would often find them in one of Newt's favourite hiding spots, together, conversing over his creatures or discussing the copious levels of homework they had been given. She liked that he had someone who understood, who felt an outsider as he did, though she didn't wish for either of them to feel that way.  

She wasn't unliked as a witch at Hogwarts, but she also wasn't particularly favored. She didn't stand for unnecessary bullying and would often take the situation into her own hands, fixing it through a crafty spell or a physical prompt, often leading to various levels of detention and consequence. But she never minded - a 'necessary evil' she would call it, a small smirk gracing her features at the assailant's discomfort and shock. She was smart for her age - always ahead of the game with her lectures - but she never flaunted this, it was only proven through the level of intellectual work given back to her professors. Aurora excelled particularly in the Art of Transfiguration as well as Charms, and would regularly use her ability to transform to disarm the bullies, often giving them enough of a shock that they'd back down rather quickly.  

When Newt took the blame for Leta Lestrange somehow obtaining a Jarvey, it left him under scrutiny from the schoolboard, as well as the Ministry for illegal possession of such a creature including the animal welfare issues surrounding him. Albus Dumbledore, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at the time, had willed the schoolboard not to take such drastic action as to expel him, and that it had clearly been a misunderstanding, stating that Newt would never try to harm another student, nor a muggle, but it had been to avail. He was taking the fall for Leta's foolish mistake, and it was going to stick.  

Aurora hated bullies. She had approached Dumbledore in his office, later that same day, and begged him to find another way to punish him. Even if it meant forcing Newt to sit at a desk and volunteer to complete paperwork for the rest of the year, which they both knew was one of his worst fears - his Boggart had proven this. She even requested she talk to the board herself, but one look of disdain and she diminished the idea entirely. He could see the cogs turning behind her eyes, plans forming and unforming, different emotions crossing her features.  

"There is nothing more to be done for him, Miss Scamander," he had suggested gently, trying to coax her from her thoughts.  

Her eyes met his in an instant, defiance written all over them. "Then if he is to be expelled," she huffed a quiet breath, not entirely believing what she was about to say. "Then I am to leave as well."  

His brows furrowed, a look of contained shock making its way round. "You cannot abandon your studies," he advised in disbelief. "You're a smart witch but you still have two years until graduation," he paused. "Have you spoken to anyone about this?"  

The look of uncertainty that flashed provided his answer. "I don't need permission," she warned quietly. "He is my brother, and he has been unrightfully charged for a misunderstanding,"  

After a little back and forth between them, Albus offered to speak to the board one final time. She'd been thankful for his last attempts, though was not entirely hopeful it would provide what she had wanted - sanctity and forgiveness for Newt's mistake. It wasn't until several days later that she was called into a meeting with her professors, and one member from the Ministry that it had begun to sink in. Newt couldn't turn back now, it was done, but what did that mean for her?  

"I understand you disagree with our decision to expel your older brother, Newton Scamander," the man had started. Aurora stepped forward to talk but a hand was raised in her direction to stop her, so she held her tongue. "And that you have threatened to take your leave also if he is to be removed from the school,"  

She narrowed her eyes at him, a slight head tilt evidencing her suspicions as to where he was going with this. If he would not change his mind, why was she here? Were they to punish her, too?  

"Your academic records are flawless, and your professors had a lot to say about you," he suggested, pretending to read through her Hogwarts file in thought. She risked a look in the direction of her teachers, uncertainty causing her to wring her hands repeatedly behind her back, but none of them gave her so much as a smile. "Though it appears you have had numerous warnings and disciplinaries for physical conflict against other students,"  

"I don't like bullies, sir," she replied in a small, yet defiant voice.  

"Do you consider me to be a bully?" He challenged, his head turning to look at her small form in the large, open hall. Her professors were willing her not to take the bait, to just hold off for a few more minutes, not bite back in retort. Her only response was her fists clenching behind her back, fingernails digging half-moons into her palms, her jaw snapping shut in disregard to his question.  

He let out a chortle of amusement and the fire began to rise within her. She knew he was looking down at her like nothing more than a child who got caught with their hand in the biscuit jar, and she hated it. She hated everything about him. She hated that she was in a room surrounded by some of the nicest people she'd ever come to know, but not one of them was standing up for her, allowing him to taunt her.  

"We would like to offer you the possibility of an early graduation, Miss Scamander," he raised, changing topics slightly. This piqued her interest. "In return for remaining at Hogwarts this academic year, you will take your finals at the end of the summer semester, two years early. Providing you do well, you shall graduate with honors and may leave Hogwarts to find your way in the wizarding world," He made eye contact with her. "At your own risk."  

"And my brother, what happens to him?" She asked delicately.  

"His expulsion has been cleared by the Ministry and will be effective as of Monday morning. He is to leave the grounds and not return, unless under exceptional circumstances." He finalised, slamming the folder in front of him closed. "I might suggest you consider your options carefully, Miss Scamander," he warned.  

She was at a loss. If she left, she could try to help Newt find his way, having now been kicked out of the best Wizarding school in Britain. Perhaps he could find a place to finish his studies at another school, but then who would take him after being expelled from somewhere such as this? She looked at each of her professor's faces, hoping to gain an insight into their thoughts. Most of them provided nothing, but Albus and Minerva were raising their brows, encouraging her to make the decision.  

"Newt can have his briefcase returned to him, at your earliest convenience?"  

"Are you bargaining with me, Miss Scamander?" He asked incredulously. She was walking on thin ice.  

"I will stay for this final year, I will pass my exams, I will stay out of trouble," she suggested, meekly. "If he can have it back. It was our father's," With a few alterations, she thought.  

The stare-down between the member of the Ministry and Aurora was unnerving, the silence deafening. Neither stood down, but neither dared walk any further. There was a mutual understanding that she would keep her promise, provided he kept his.  

"Very well," he finalised, a huff of exasperation escaping his taut mouth. "As of Monday, Master Scamander is expelled from Hogwarts, and Miss Scamander is to complete the remaining two years in this academic year. I hope you know what you are doing," He warned but then waved his hand at her, advising she leave quickly before he changed his mind.  

She rushed out of the hall, breathless, the large spruce doors slamming behind her. She pushed past other students, moving forward into a run to find her brother and tell him what had happened. Her mind was spiralling with warnings and stolen glances and looks of disappointment. She hadn't been able to save Newt, but at least she could return his beloved case to him. She had to tell him her news.  

Once she was out of sight, she apparated to his more commonly used hiding place - the small cupboard off the Astronomy tower where he kept a few of his creatures to study as they developed. He took in her frantic state as she knelt next to him, eyes full of sorrow. Aurora explained everything that was going to happen to him over the next 72 hours, including his removal from the grounds first-thing Monday morning, and frustratingly he didn't look at all fazed. It was Leta who seemed more distraught than Newt, although as it was her fault to begin with, she could understand most of her distress.  

Sure enough, when it came to the end of the summer semester, Aurora had passed all of her exams despite the workload being doubled, and was on her way out into the world. Newt had since left home to travel and research further into his various beasts, while Theseus had remained securely employed with the British Ministry of Magic. Aurora wasn't sure where she was to go from here, but hoped something would appear to keep her occupied until Newt returned, or at least until he settled somewhere long enough to visit.  

That was how she came to stand where she was, many years later, with an open letter in her hand, her heart hammering at her chest. Newt had been injured. She was unaware as to what extent, but Theseus' letter had told her to find them promptly, apparently there was little time to waste.  

Within an instant she was collecting a handful of her things, casting an undetectable expansion charm on her purse and walking out the door at a brisk pace. It had been almost a year since she'd laid eyes on either of her brothers, but she knew both of them had been deeply involved with the rise of Grindelwald. She'd cut out snippets of newspaper articles in an attempt to keep tabs on what was happening in the world, but after Grindelwald had made his initial stand, many witches and wizards siding with him, he had disappeared underground.  

Her department at the Ministry was under threat due to the muggle disappearances occurring, no reasonable explanation available for the muggle Council to consider, and whispers were shared at every dark corner. She had tried to keep herself cheerful and charming, but with so many considering Grindelwald's offer it became difficult to maintain relationships with her colleagues, even more so when they asked for her opinion on such pressing matters.  

While she was relieved to take a temporary leave of absence to assist her family, she knew that what she was leaving behind would not be better on her return. Perhaps her department would be closed down altogether, and the years she'd spent trying to maintain the barrier between the wizarding world and the muggles would come crashing down, no longer necessary.  

Aurora burst through the front door, frantically searching for her boys, eyes landing on them as Theseus seemed to be unwrapping a dirty bandage from Newton's hand. She rushed into the living room, bag being strewn across the floor somewhere as she sunk to her knees to have a closer look. The brothers seemed surprised to see her, which she returned considering the letter she'd received a day prior from Theseus himself, but perhaps they meant she had arrived quicker than they'd anticipated.  

Newt's hand was nearly devoid of skin, looking like a harsh burn through its entirety, as he instructed Theseus to gather some bits from his case. The bowtruckle which sat atop the armchair was holding his tiny hand out, too, with an even smaller bandage across it. She smiled sympathetically at Pickett and gently picked him up to hold him in front of her.  

"And what kind of trouble have you been getting into, little man?" she asked sweetly, Pickett blowing a raspberry in her direction before pointing at Newt, as if to place blame. "And you?" She aimed at her brother in the chair.  

Newt smiled sheepishly under her gaze, never very fond of direct eye contact. "I had to fight off a few others to keep some creatures alive," he suggested, quietening when Theseus returned with a small glass vial.  

Aurora nodded her head, stepping back and allowing Theseus to begin working on Newt's injured hand again. The younger boy was wincing harshly, lip curling in pain as he supressed a groan. The red, angered flesh was shining now with a blue-ish hue, the skin seeming to regrow before their very eyes, although an open wound still remained. Ever the hero, Theseus re-wrapped Newt's hand and started to ask what exactly he was summoned here for, Aurora walking to the kitchen to make something for them all to drink. It turns out that Dumbledore himself had asked for Theseus's help, whether that be because of his status in the Ministry or because he was a previous war-hero, they seemed unsure, although as usual it looked as though Newt was keeping a lot of information hidden. Perhaps it was not his information to provide?  

Chapter Text

After sharing a cup of tea and Newt advising his siblings of the current plan of action, all three headed to Hogsmeade to meet with Dumbledore. Theseus and Aurora were sharing small talk regarding the complications arising within the Ministry, and occasionally Newt would pipe up with a question or comment, but otherwise they spent the journey in a comfortable silence.

"They allowed you to leave, on short notice, without any dispute?" Newt inquired.

"It would appear so," she suggested, briefly slipping on a patch of ice and grasping Theseus' arm. "They're so busy with covering their own tracks, I feel my absence is the least of their worries."

Waltzing across the peak of the cobblestone bridge, Hogsmeade came into view in all its winterish glory. There were many people, young and old, milling around sharing conversation, as well as a few other wizards and witches ice skating across the frozen lake. Laughter and voices echoed around, being carried gently on the cool breeze like mother nature's invisible messengers. It felt homely, safe.

The trio wove between various couples and groups, their direction heading straight for the Hog's Head Inn, of which Aurora had never actually entered before. It had been many years since she'd stepped foot in Hogsmeade, though not much had changed since then other than a few extra wizarding shops appearing, but she was delighted to be back. She could smell the sweet delights coming from the pastry shop, as well as from Honeydukes, and made a mental note to pop in after they'd finished whatever they were doing now.

Newt barged through the door first with Theseus following straight after, Aurora trailing behind, opening the door with slightly more care than her brother. They looked around curiously, eyes taking in the few people that were sat around circular tables with hot drinks, steam evaporating into thin air. It was warm in here - the fireplace was alight with bright orange flames but despite this, the room still had an eerie darkness to it. Aurora thought it needed more windows.

"You're here to meet my brother, I expect," the older gentleman behind the bar suggested, wiping something from the large mirror with a dry cloth. He hadn't turned to face them, only glaring through the reflection.

"No, sorry, we are here to see Albus Dumbledore," Newt replied lightly, seeming to shy away slightly at the stranger's expression.

The man turned then. "That would be my brother," He held the boys' gaze with his own harsh stare as Newt began mumbling his apologies, attempting to introduce his siblings and holding his hand out for the barkeep to shake. "Up the stairs, first on the left," he finalised, returning to his job of cleaning the mirror, refusing Newt's kind will.

The boys held still for a second, trying to understand this man's aggravated demeanour but brushed it off and rushed to the staircase, advancing it quickly. Aurora had been a little slow to comprehend where they were going and by the time they'd reached the top of the stairs, she had only made it to the first step. She withdrew from climbing them and instead settled herself down onto the barstool at the end of the long table to wait for their return. Neither of her brothers had attempted to summon her, so she assumed that meant she was not needed at this very moment.

She admired the mirror that this man was obsessively cleaning - from where they sat it appeared relatively spotless, but perhaps he could see something she could not. It had a thick golden frame which seemed to be sculpted to mimic that of rope twisting around its edges with not a single crack in its glass. It looked as though it was the only object in this very building that was cared for and held any value, sentimental or otherwise - even the supply of wizarding drinks behind the bar was diminished, not to mention the condition of the surrounding furniture.

She accidentally caught the barkeep's gaze, her eyes softening at him in a friendly gesture. "So if Albus is your brother," she started curiously. "what would your name be?"

"Aberforth."

"Are you older or younger than him?" he stopped cleaning for a moment just to stare at Aurora through the reflection. "I'm sorry, that was rude," she lowered her gaze back to her hands.

She suddenly felt a warm cup of something nudge against the back of her right hand, stopping just ahead of her fingers. "Three years younger," he answered before disappearing behind the door at the rear of the bar.

One small sip of her drink and she relaxed into the stool, shoulders dropping as she relished the feeling of warmth spreading through her. Aberforth had given her some warm pumpkin juice, on the house it would appear, and for that she was thankful, though he hadn't stuck around long enough to allow her to share the gratitude. She was lulled into her thoughts by the sweet drink, but was brought back a few moments later by the remaining customers sliding their chairs under the tables and leaving, clearly having finished their beverages.

As Aurora tipped back the remainder of the liquid, several letters started to appear in no particular order across the mirror, as if written in steam. One small droplet of pumpkin juice threatened to spill down her windpipe as she took in the sentence revealed on the glass, her lungs forcing her to cough up the foreign fluid. Her brain was swimming with thoughts - "do you know what it's like" was such a threateningly desperate question, who could have been on the other side of it and who were they aiming that to, Aberforth, perhaps?

As if hearing her thoughts, Aberforth re-entered the room, looking in the direction Aurora was staring and stalked toward it. Within seconds he was wiping off the words, relinquishing any evidence that it had been there in the first place and throwing the cloth down onto the worktop. He glared at the small girl over his shoulder, now seeming more intimidating than he had when they first entered the Inn. She shrunk into herself a little.

"That is none of your damn business," he growled, daring her to question him.

"I am sorry, I hadn't meant to read it, it just appeared," she explained innocently, eyes pleading for his forgiveness in the hopes his temper would reduce.

He said nothing more, merely stared the girl down until she dropped his eye contact and slunk off to sit in the chair across from the fireplace. The orange flames did little to relax her now - her mind was on overdrive, surrounding itself with guilt as if she'd peeked behind the curtain into someone else's life. But no matter what she tried to distract herself with, the thoughts of a mirror that allowed two, or possibly more, people to communicate between themselves, at assumedly different locations, was astounding. Never had Aurora heard of something such as this - only the mirror of Erised, but that showed your deepest desires - it was not a portal. She'd have to try and find a book on it somewhere.

"Ah, Miss Scamander, Newt had not mentioned you would be joining us," a voice sounded, bringing Aurora out of her trance-like state.

Her eyes shot across the room, landing on Albus himself of whom, quite unbelievably, had barely aged a day in the years since their leave from Hogwarts. A smile pulled its way onto her face as she stood. "Dumbledore, it's a pleasure to see you again," she paused to look at her brothers and back to her old professor. "I apologise for the intrusion, I came on account of my brother's welfare, but it seems he didn't need me after all," she laughed lightly.

"Everybody needs a helping hand sometimes, Miss Scamander,"

"Aurora, please," she shook her head amused. "You are no longer my professor, nor I your student,"

"Of course, my apologies," He nodded in her direction before turning to Newt. "I will see you all in due course, good luck."

And with that initial goodbye, Newt led Theseus and Aurora out the front door and back into their snowy surroundings. She was going to ask that they make a small diversion to Honeydukes, but an observation of Newt checking his watch had meant they were obviously under a time constraint - she'd have to come back another day. The boys were walking rather briskly now, trudging through the freshly fallen snow and in the direction of the outer side of the village. Aurora risked a brief glance back to Hogsmeade, looking to the dark windows of The Hog's Head Inn but seeing no one looking back. Or so she thought, but the two Dumbledores had their eyes on her.

"She's trouble, that one," Aberforth started, turning away from the window and walking behind the bar.

Albus' eyes followed him slightly suspiciously. "What did she say?"

"She saw the mirror," Aberforth warned, watching for his brother's reaction. "I think she wanted to know who's writing it was,"

"Well she was always known for her more curious nature, she's quite intelligent," he reminded but then paused. "I assume she didn't ask you anything about it?"

"No, just apologised for looking at it."

"Smart girl," he complimented. "We'll need her on our side if we wish to get to Grindelwald, he's taken quite the interest in her."

The Scamander siblings had made their way back to the apartment to allow Newt to care for his creatures and Theseus to contact some allies in the field. Aurora had been in the kitchen making some tea when she heard a small ruckus coming from the living room which held Newt's case. When she rounded the corner, she swiftly shut the doors as one of the baby Nifflers, along with the baby Qilin, seemed to be running riot, galloping around the room chasing each other. She watched in awe as two species so different, though not that far apart in age, played with one another, ever-improving their skillset and athleticism.

"Pumpernickel, leave her alone, you-" Newt's head popped up from the open briefcase on the sofa cushions, eyes landing on Aurora. "Any chance you could pick one of them up? Any one..." he willed hopefully, seemingly exhausted.

"I'll take," she observed them carefully and lunged at them. "You!" The Niffler grumbled in surprise at the sudden capture and attempted to wriggle free, but Aurora held her to her chest.

The Qilin was weaving between her legs as if willing Aurora to return her friend to the floor, but carefully she padded across the carpet to give Pumpernickel back to Newt who was awaiting with an amused expression. The small creature was placed in her brother's hands, the Qilin waiting patiently next to them to be taken 'home' once more, as Newt disappeared down the ladder again. Her hands reached out to gently stroke the Qilin's soft fur - it seemed to glow under Aurora's touch, whether on purpose or by accident - as the animal leant against her.

Moments later, Newt reappeared to transfer the Qilin back downstairs as Theseus waltzed through the living room doors. The two siblings conversed quietly while they awaited the return of their brother in order to begin the next stage of the plan. They needed to catch the train to Berlin, and pick up some friends on the way, though Aurora was not given any reasons behind this visit or whom they were meeting so she was just abiding the plan. They each took a handful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fireplace and apparating themselves onto the moving train which seemingly had no other passengers, or at least not in this car.

Bunty was already waiting for the trio, sitting quite elegantly on one of the plush red chairs with two baby nifflers on her shoulders and one in her hands - it appeared that Aurora had managed to catch the remaining baby back at the apartment as there had been four in total. Yusef Kama was staring at the surrounding views through the glass window, clearly deep in thought and having barely turned his head upon their arrival, other than to offer Aurora a brief nod of hello. Newt had been quick to relieve Bunty of the mischievous creatures and was more than happy to give her a break, only proving his kindness considering he looked exhausted himself. Bunty hadn't seemed to mind either way - after all, she had been his assistant for 8 or so years now so could tolerate the nifflers for longer than the average Joe.

Newt struck up a conversation with his older brother regarding who the Ministry was in agreement with for the upcoming election, though Aurora knew officially they could not say one way or the other. She had kept her thoughts concerning the election to herself - no one in the Ministry could be trusted any more when it came to their beliefs and opinions - but she was keen to know which way her brother felt the scales were tipping. Kama had piped up to imply that if Theseus truly meant what he said about 'anyone being better than Vogel', that meant Grindelwald could also be in the cards as a favourite. And while Gellert was currently still a fugitive, Aurora feared it would not be long before he was quickly forgiven in an attempt at peace-making, especially considering Anton Vogel was known for being spineless and weak-willed.

In a sudden burst of green flame with yells of displeasure, Mr Jacob Kowalski ran forward out of the fireplace, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, with Professor Eulalie Hicks walking calmly behind him.

"Always with the spinning!" he cried out, face looking rather pale.

"Jacob, welcome!" Newt called out in excitement, surprising everyone as he drew the man into a hug. "You brilliant man! Sorry, I was absolutely sure that Professor Hicks would convince you," he complimented, face bursting with pride.

"Yeah, you know me, Pal," he breathed with a tight-lipped smile on his face, only just finding his bearings. "I can't pass up a good portkey."

The muggle wobbled, unsure of himself, towards the drinks bar where Aurora was holding out a shot glass of liquid for him to take, a look of sympathy crossing her features at his pale and clammy skin. He grasped it quickly, swallowing it back and erupting into an uncontrolled moment of laughter, before breathing a sigh of relief and providing his thanks. Newt and Lally were talking amongst themselves about how much they admired the other's work, Newt harbouring a deep red blush at her compliments, before introducing anyone the professor had not met prior to today.

"And you've obviously already made Jacob's acquaintance," he motioned to the no-maj that had taken a seat in the chair behind Bunty, face starting to fill with colour once more.

Theseus cleared his throat. "Newt,"

"Sorry, this is my brother Theseus, and my sister Aurora," he shied away from their glares at almost being forgotten about. "They work for the Ministry-"

"Actually as head of the British Auror office," Theseus remarked, causing his sister to roll her eyes. The arrogance, she thought.

"Ah, well I will have to ensure my wand registrations are up to date," she remarked.

"Yes, though strictly speaking that doesn't fall within my purview," he admitted sheepishly.

Newt wove past his brother, walking to the opposite side of the train car, eyeing Bunty encouragingly. She shuffled past Theseus without much grace and joined Newt, waiting for the others to follow suit. Aurora sat down in the seat that Jacob had previously obtained, of whom was now part of the semi-circle around Newt like a leader with his disciples. She was half expecting to be summoned also, but when she wasn't she sunk deeper into the chair and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing in its comfort. They hadn't exactly had time to pause and take a breath since her arrival, and she was starting to feel those consequences, so a few seconds to relax didn't seem out of the question.

It only felt a minute before the train pulled into the station, but Yusef was already walking off onto the platform, stopping to glance back at his allies still inside the car before taking his leave. Bunty had taken a hold on Newt's case of Magical Creatures and was whispering something quietly, and then she, too, made her exit. Newt seemed unnerved - he hadn't let his case out of his sight since Graves had attempted to take it from him and it appeared even he was unaware of some parts to Dumbledore's plan. Aurora rose from her position and placed her hand gently on her brother's scrawny shoulder, giving it a light squeeze and offering him an encouraging smile.

It was time to make their appearance at the pre-elective announcements evening.

Chapter Text

The remaining five wandered out of the station and into the busy streets of Berlin. They stuck close together in this foreign city and ran across tramlines to the safety of the pavement, hiding themselves slightly from the cold winds. Newt led the group to a plain, red brick wall and paused to allow all to gather around, Jacob staring in awe as the Ministry of Magic symbol erupted from the layers.

They all walked on through the stone – an invisible doorway disguised as a building. As loud as the station had been with the bustling crowd of both muggles and wizards alike, nothing could prepare them for the ruckus waiting on the other side of the veil. Even Jacob’s groans of displeasure were silenced with the hollers, though they hadn’t been missed by Aurora who held a hand to his shoulder in support before following her siblings.

The occasional firework was let loose, bursting with colour into the blackened sky, casting haunting shadows over the otherwise snow-white ground. Posters of Grindelwald had been nailed to every pillar in the hopes that someone, somewhere, would leak his whereabouts and allow the Ministry to bring him to justice. Mr Kowalski stared at Gellert’s moving picture with a slight snarl gracing his features – unusual for such a kind-hearted muggle, but backstory alone would provide enough explanation.

“German Ministry of Magic,” Theseus started, but it wasn’t a question.

“Yes,”

More red and yellow fireworks exploded in the sky. “I take it we’re here for a reason,” He sighed, hands finding the comfort of his coat pockets.

“Yes,” Newt rubbed his hands along his coat to keep them busy. “We have a tea ceremony to attend, and if we don’t hurry up,” He paused, looking around at the various political posters. “we’ll be late.”

Theseus stared after his brother dumbfounded before summoning the others to follow. Jacob was still staring at the wanted posters, but Lally’s warning about staying with the group interrupted his thought pattern enough to draw him away. Theseus and Newt took the lead in front with Lally just ahead of Aurora and Jacob bringing up the rear.

The closer they walked to the Ministry building, the louder everything became. Shouts, screams, chants and vulgar language was thrown around as if any of it were to make a difference to the Ministry’s decisions. Red on one side, yellow on the other; the five wizards walked down the centre of hundreds of witches and wizards and Aurora was becoming anxious. Her shoulders were lifting in a hunched position, and her fingers quickly found her ears to try and shut out some of the noise, face wincing at the aggression between sides. She didn’t like crowds, nor did she like any of this uproar.

As her brothers neared the front, one large spell was cast by an enthusiastic woman which sent a yellow spark from her wand into the sky. The boom that echoed was enough to make Aurora cower into herself, feeling personally under attack. It was Jacob’s turn to comfort her with a soft hand on her arm to reduce her rising panic, but it did little once she’d realised just how far her brothers had gotten away from them.

Theseus started to communicate with one of the Aurors at the front of the crowd, advising their security that the remaining three were with him and to unhand them. They were encouraged forward and passed an intimidating man with a crooked nose – his eyes had landed on Aurora the second she had advanced the stairs, almost in recognition. Her brows furrowed in confusion – his nose was unmistakably familiar, but she couldn’t place as to where. The knowing stare he was giving her had unnerved the young girl, so she lowered her gaze and retreated to the sanctity of her friends.

As the doors closed behind them, the silence that ensued was a relief to all. Smart shoes on tile floors clacked as they all wandered forward, attempting to remain as discrete as possible. Jacob and Aurora admired the old-fashioned paintings placed delicately around the room – not so much as to distract any guests, but enough to entice them forward.

“I take it we’re not here for the finger sandwiches?” Theseus joked, anxiety starting to rise at the number of important people in the room.

“Um, no, I have a message to deliver,” Newt replied quietly, eyes scanning the crowd.

“A message,” the older man broached. “To who?” As a few more people entered the room, Newt realised it was just the wizard he’d been looking for. “You are joking,”

“Nope.”

As the brothers advanced Anton Vogel, the remaining three held back by the door, Jacob really wishing he could turn himself invisible to escape this situation. Aurora was scanning the room again, attempting to gage any indication as to what her brothers may have been so quietly discussing, before she realised how underdressed she was.

“What am I even doing here? Let’s go outside,” Jacob started, turning his back to the hall and willing the girls to agree. “I’m not very good in these situations.”

“These situations?” Lally questioned, mock surprise added to her tone.

“People, the fancy people,” he insisted, motioning to the surrounding strangers with his eyes.

“At least you don’t look like you’ve just come from a library!” Aurora hissed and gawked nervously at how well-dressed everyone was. “You look like an aristocrat, I look like I do not belong,”

Whether it was to stop her complaints, or because she felt bad, Lally stepped in front of Aurora to block her from the other guests’ view and used her wand to transform her clothing to something with more class. Gone was her navy plaid skirt and dark green sweater, but instead a charcoal party dress and black heels took its place. Aurora sighed in relief and thanked Lally – she’d have done the spell herself if she’d thought of it, but her wand was currently inside Newt’s case which now resided with Bunty.

Only a few minutes had passed when an older lady, quite short in stature, approached Mr Kowalski with an intrigued smile gracing her lips. She introduced herself indirectly, speaking in the third person before asking where he was from. Though Jacob was still uncomfortable, his face had softened and he was hiding less behind his newest acquaintances, replying as kindly as he could under the circumstances. His eyes danced around nervously as Lally kept hers on the Scamander brothers who had now made their advance on Vogel. It appeared as though the information transpired from Newt to the leader of the Wizarding world had amused him, and as such, the man regarded him with a deceitful grin. He was summoned away by one of his followers then. Theseus dragged Newt back to their allies – all they could do now was wait.

Clapping ensued. “Thank you, thank you,” he paused for effect. “I see many familiar faces here tonight; colleagues, friends, foes…” The room erupted into unnecessary laughter. Newt grimaced. “Within the next forty-eight hours, you, along with the rest of the wizarding world will choose our next great leader – a choice that will shape our lives for generations to come.”

Anton re-introduced the current rival parties, applause erupting for each.

“It’s in moments, such as these, we are reminded it is this peaceful transfer of power which marks our humanity, and demonstrates to the world that despite our differences, all voices deserve to be heard,” Brows began to furrow, wondering if there was in fact a second meaning behind those very words. “Even voices which many may find disagreeable.”

Aurora noticed Theseus’ eyes turning anxious as they glanced around the room and he stepped closer to Newt, whispering in his ear. His younger brother then started looking around with the same intensity Theseus had done. Aurora’s hackles were up now – there were five or more people stalking around the room like border collies in a herd of sheep, targeting the weakest victim, waiting for their chance to strike. Anton was still talking but his voice was fading in and out as Theseus began to follow the woman in blue, Newt a few paces behind. This felt like a trap, and they were about to be reaped.

"And so, after an extensive investigation, the confederation has concluded that insufficient evidence exists to prosecute Gellert Grindelwald for the crimes against the muggle community of which he was accused. He is hereby absolved of all his alleged crimes."

Aurora's ears were ringing. He was forgiven, and he was free. The very man that could tear this world apart had been given a pardon, just as Yusef had so heavily suggested back on the train. She found herself backing up from Anton Vogel's position at his electoral post, bumping into various strangers who had similar looks of confusion and betrayal. Jacob had started shouting accusations at anyone who agreed to his decision, and was attempting to explain that he had been a witness - but who was going to listen to him when Vogel himself had ignored it all?

Theseus now had his wand up, pointed in the direction of Grindelwald's followers, edging towards them as a one-man-band. Newt was not far behind, but his vision had been obscured by some angry spectators and in a flash, Theseus' body had dropped to the floor. Three other wizards advanced his limp frame, two of which Newt recognised as the security from outside, hauling him up by his limbs and dragging him backwards through the doorway. Lally had wrapped a hand around Newt's upper arm, begging him not to fight back as they were severely outnumbered already, with more people closing in.

The remaining four made a break for the exit and as they reached the courtyard, green fireworks and flashes were erupting in the sky from every angle. This was the plan all along - to free Grindelwald and play peacekeeper, to then pass the vote over to the new leader for them to deal with the chaos this decision would create.

Aurora was running. Pushing, shoving, elbowing fellow witches and wizards from her path, attempting to find a break in the crowd to escape the mania that Anton had started. Her eyes were starting to blur with unshed tears - between the risks of an uncertain future and her inability to protect Theseus when he'd walked himself into the lion’s den, she could no longer think straight. Those that had taken him did not seem to be on any side of theirs, nor the Ministry, which meant only one party remained in such power - Grindelwald's. Who knows what would happen to him now, and with Aurora missing her wand and Jacob being an actual muggle, their chances of success were as low as could be imagined. They had no choice but to escape with whomever they had left and find a new plan, fast.

It had been one hell of a night. With so much to worry about, not a single person had managed to catch any decent rest, although Newt had slipped Mr Kowalski a sleeping draught after he'd worked himself up into a frenzy. It was either that or obliviate him, and Newt swore never to do that to his friend again, not unless it was a matter of life or death as it was before. As for the rest of them, they remained awake and restless, plans and backup plans being conjured, but all of them knowing truly that if they did in fact devise a plan, Grindelwald’s foresight would detect this imminently and they would fail.

Their first point of call had to be to track down Theseus’ whereabouts. Based on the abduction being at a private electoral gathering, the four assumed that someone from the Ministry must know what happened to him and considering their blood-relation, should be able to help. They were wrong. According to the ‘idiots in the office’ as Aurora had labelled them, the German Ministry had no register of Theseus being taken, nor of the immobilisation spell being cast by those supposed members which had confirmed their fears that a third party was now involved.

Seconds before Newt was to lose his temper, Jacob alerted them to the very men that had dragged Theseus’ limp body out of the hall, to god knows where. Attempting their best impression at remaining calm, but hearts pounding regardless, Lally, Newt and Jacob gained on the two men, calling out various accusations and questions. Aurora had been so caught up in grilling the Ministry administrators that she hadn’t paid attention to Jacob’s realization and had remained in the very room they started at, anger rising at their dumbfounded expressions – she wanted to slap that look off their faces.

Just as they were but a few metres away, two glass doors closed on them, separating their brother’s captors from themselves and Newt lowered his head feeling defeated, his composure falling quickly. Helplessness was a horrible weight to carry, especially when you had gotten so used to being as powerful as a wizard was. No form of magic was going to solve their problems right now. They returned to the youngest Scamander with sullen looks, though this quickly shifted to surprise at the fury of which she spoke to these employees considering they could quite easily have her deported back to England, or even place a ban on her return to Germany.

Newt apparated Aurora back outside before she could dig her grave any deeper, and at the sudden change of scenery she took a shaky breath and regathered whichever emotions would allow. The younger sibling began to pace quietly back and forth, trying to remove the remaining stress and bury it beneath the cobblestone floor, thoughts swarming her mind at a hundred miles an hour. It was only a minute or two before Lally walked through the main doors with Jacob behind to join their comrades.

Aurora turned her back to the building that housed the German Ministry in minute defiance, eyes glaring up at the stone statue ahead of her. Jacob was also mumbling his frustrations, but more to himself than leaving it open for conversation, and kicked his foot up onto the protective wall around the statue in disappointment. She knew he would be feeling guilty at having no magic and having allowed his beloved to fall under the guise of Grindelwald’s convincing speeches about freedom for wizard-kind, but in that moment, she couldn’t help feeling more selfish over the loss of her brother. She’d spent so long trying to protect Newt from the unkind, it didn’t strike her for one second that they would aim for Theseus instead. He was a respected Ministry ward, and a war hero – she thought he was almost untouchable. Apparently not.

Aurora had started counting cracks in the stone carving, using anything to slow her mind, even just for a second. It was funny seeing damages to something as highly respected as this monument – any witch or wizard could simply conjure a spell to repair this, but perhaps it gave a sense of morality in a world of quick-fixes and cover-ups. There was something quite humbling about it.

A soft but insistent tap on her shoulder broke Aurora’s attention. She swung round in an instant, eyes darting at her friends of whom were at least a few metres away before they landed on a levitating black leather glove. The item began to wave gently before crooking a finger at her and floating past the group, catching Newt’s attention as it went. It remained suspended, finger pointing to their left as her brother lay out his hands for it to fall limp into. Another glove of the same pair was waiting for their attention as it swiftly launched in the direction of the road, hovering over vehicles and leading them up a set of marble stairs where a darkened figure seemed to be waiting.

Chapter Text

With Newt in front, the remaining four continued on suspiciously, eying the darkened figure warily but following their friend regardless. Aurora was still grumbling profanities under her breath but immediately shut her mouth when the stature of Albus Dumbledore rounded the pillar to meet them in the shadows of another council building. She did nothing but stare in awe that he had actively left the safety of Hogwarts to join them in Berlin – he hadn’t stepped foot anywhere else in a significant number of years. Unfortunately, this meant there must be something more sinister happening that they were currently ignorant to. Without waiting for long, Albus started walking around the edges of the building, the others followed willingly.

“Albus? Wha-“

“Theseus has been taken to the Erkstag,” he interrupted, snatching his gloves quickly from Newt’s grasp. Aurora’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No- wha- but the Erkstag shut down years ago,” he queried, hurrying to keep up with his ex-professor who was setting a harsh pace.

“Yes, well, it’s the Ministry’s secret little bed and breakfast now,” he claimed, a glint of annoyance playing behind his eyes. “You’ll need this to see him, and one of these,”

He was pulling a menagerie of different objects from his hat, having clearly used the same expansion charm Aurora had for her bag, including a plastic, holographic ID card and a piece of paper which seemed to drift in the wind and land against Mr Kowalski’s face. Though she was still annoyed, that did ease her expression into a small smile as the muggle kindly returned it to Newt without a word, seemingly unfazed. Lally was too interested in hearing what Dumbledore had to say to take much amusement from the situation.

Albus cut across the group, stunting their steps momentarily, before guiding them to the right and through another doorway disguised as the building’s outer wall. Lally had jumped behind Jacob and placed both hands on his shoulders to encourage him forward, despite his resignation and attempted efforts to halt before the entrance. He was whining and groaning in anticipation of the nauseating feeling muggles often suffered with port-key travel, various ‘wait’s and ‘hold up’s spoken against this movement.

Just as Aurora was taking a step toward where her friends had disappeared, a dark shadow caught her attention momentarily, briefly crossing at the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she scoured her surroundings critically, eyes catching sight of a dark wisp swirling in the air, not far from where they had just ventured. It seemed to twirl and dance in the sky, moving toward her and then floating away again, almost as if teasing her where she stood. She was now alone and on the wrong side of the wall. As she lifted her foot to advance on this tendril of black ash, entranced by the way it seemed to be summoning her attention, a black, gloved hand reached through the wall and held itself, open and patient, for her to take.

Trapped in a moment of indecisiveness, she sighed in defeat and finally took a hold of the waiting hand, wrapping her fingers around it gently. A strong but insistent pull had her climbing back through the wall and onto the side of which her friends had been waiting. Newt met her with a bewildered expression, as if he wanted to ask what she had been doing, but was also worried he wouldn’t appreciate the answer. Dumbledore dropped her hand politely, his gaze also holding a silent question.

“Apologies, I got a little distracted – thought I saw something,” she admitted sheepishly with a light shrug.

“What was it?” Jacob asked curiously.

“I’m not so sure, can’t say I’ve ever seen one before,” she replied thoughtfully before shaking her head and drawing her attention back to their surroundings.

The now group of five made their way across the front of the building, almost in single-file as they followed Albus obediently. Aurora was at the back of the group, eyes searching the sky for any sign of the black haze that had entertained her before, though she wasn’t sure how far that port-key had taken them.

“I trust you’re enjoying your wand, Mr Kowalski,”

“Me? Oh- Um- Yeah, thank you, Mr Dumbledore, it’s a real Pip,” he stuttered, following directly behind the professor and walking in front of Newt.

“I’d advise you to keep it close,” he finished, pulling out a pocket watch to glance at its centre. “Professor Hicks?”

“Dumbledore?” Lally swung round the pillar at his request.

He turned to talk to her directly. “Assuming you’re not otherwise engaged, and frankly even if you are, I encourage you to attend tonight’s candidates’ dinner. Take Mr Kowalski! I’m quite certain there will be an assassination attempt – anything you can do to scotch that will be greatly appreciated.”

Aurora backed away slightly from the group, noting that she was not currently needed and figured she would try to keep her nose out of business that was not hers. It appeared Dumbledore had devised a plan of sorts for the heroes and if Grindelwald’s foresight was indeed correct, she’d rather not have an inkling to what was happening where it could be prevented. She also didn’t want to be responsible for an attempt at saving someone’s life – she couldn’t have that on her conscience, whether it went well or not.

As Albus complimented Lally on her abilities at charms, trying to reassure Jacob that he would remain safe with her, the youngest Scamander attempted to restrain from rolling her eyes. Charms and Transfiguration had been her favourite subjects at Hogwarts and she had graduated early, no thanks to Newt and Leta, although Aurora chastised herself on thinking something bad of the deceased. She knew the girl’s death had hit both of her brothers hard, but perhaps the quieter of the duo more so, though he would never admit it.

Leta was due to wed Theseus and become her sister-in-law, but thanks to Grindelwald she didn’t get to live long enough to become family – though in some aspects Aurora thought perhaps a wedding wasn’t necessary for someone to be so close. The girls had not always seen eye-to-eye but they tolerated each other for the boys’ sakes – the youngest Scamander knew of Lestrange’s feelings toward both of her brothers, and every time Newt saw her and Theseus together it reminded him that he’d never be as loved as the war hero. Aurora felt pity for the girl’s estranged past and abrasive bloodlines, some form of abuse often making itself known if a professor ever raised their voice at her in class, but she rarely allowed for bad behaviour as an excuse to this, especially not at her brothers’ expense.

The brunette leant against the opposite side of the pillar to her troupe, mind deep in thought over what has been and what could have been, Dumbledore’s words fading to a quiet hum as he conversed with the others. Her arms were folded against the cold snowy breeze, eyes scanning but not seeing as various muggles and wizards alike went about their day as if they hadn’t just been condemned to a society of ‘death for disagreement’ by the current leader of the wizarding world. Aurora was still in disbelief.

Albus had concluded his advice and was making his way across the street when Newt called him back, miming his hold on the case handle in silent question. Dumbledore regarded him with an amused smile, returning to his side to reassure that all was safe and well. Though he couldn’t provide Newt with any specific information, he’d hoped there was enough trust between them to know that all would be fine if they played their roles set-forth to them. The young wizard nodded back, worry evident in his eyes but did not ask anything further.

On his return to the centre of the road, blue eyes met hazel. She’d been watching the exchange between him and her brother, and had observed the way he tracked something in his pocket watch which now resided in his coat’s chest pocket. She was unsure of what role she was supposed to play as hadn’t been given a job – Aurora assumed this meant to stay out of the way, but Theseus was yet to be rescued and she was feeling a little useless. She felt she was going into battle completely blind. He had a half-smile gracing his features at her downtrodden expression, but then offered an audacious wink before moving his eyes to stare at her jacket pocket.

Brows lowering, her hands unfolded and found their way to the pocket where a thin but solid object resided that hadn’t been there prior. She pulled it out to reveal a beautifully simple, older-style English oak wand – not hers, but a wand nonetheless. Her eyes shot to find his own, careful to contain her surprise and remained silent – he’d obviously known she hadn’t a wand, but was this real or just a stand-in, as Jacob’s was? His eyes were bereft of judgement or amusement, simply waiting for her response. Aurora’s head tilted at him curiously, eyes wandering in Jacob’s direction and back as if to question was it just a prop, or if it were real. He motioned to the ground before her, noticing that her shoelace had come undone – he was telling her to try it out – and sure enough the shoelace wound its way back into a knot. A light dash of pink rose to her cheeks and she smiled appreciatively, stowing the wand away in her pocket once more and Dumbledore took that as his cue to leave.

Several hours later, Lally and Jacob had apparated to the candidates’ dinner party, much to the muggle’s dismay, leaving Newt and Aurora at the safehouse she had acquired through an old friend. It was only small – two bedrooms, one bathroom – but would fit its purpose for the time being. The older brother was pacing back and forth, trying to tame his nerves before attempting to break Theseus out of the prison. He’d never been to the Erkstag but from the rumours that travelled many years ago, very few people made it out alive, including visitors! Aurora was watching him pace.

“Dumbledore only gave me one pass key,” deft hands held up the holographic card to prove a point.

“I passed Charms, Newt,” she whined, eyes pleading. “I’m sure I can make an exact copy!”

“Even if you could, he ascribed this assignment to me. He obviously didn’t want you to be put at risk as well,” he paused, mind whirring. “Mother cannot lose all of us.”

Aurora’s voice dropped to a hushed tone. “He’s my brother, too. I nearly lost you once, I won’t lose you again; either of you.”

Newt understood his sister’s fear, but as she had always protected him, he felt it his duty to return the favour. However, having had no specific instructions from Dumbledore did put a stint in the works, though he supposed if this hadn’t been part of any official plan, perhaps Grindelwald could not predict this. An extra pair of hands couldn’t hurt, surely? At least they would both be there for the same reason – to save their sibling.

In conclusion to their arguments, that is how the two youngest Scamander’s found themselves climbing through a semi-locked, old metal gate and walking down into the crypt below. Rusted iron doors awaited their descent, screeching open with the effort of movement and slamming closed behind the pair. The lights hanging from the ceiling appeared to flicker and shudder with each draught passing through the cracked stone walls. Occasionally, mists of dust would leak from the concrete above, landing on anyone in the room, as the structure seemed to rattle – whether from the trams above or the train station across the way, nobody could be sure until they delved deeper.

Aurora and Newt approached a gruff looking man that stared them down from behind his decaying desk until they were stood before him. His facial hair was askew and his dark eyes leered into their innocence, but it was Theseus’ red tie that caught their primary attention. A bucket of buzzing insects sat to their right, Aurora moving slightly further from it in disgust. She allowed Newt to do the talking – she’d assumed part of his pacing earlier was that he was planning his words carefully, so as to not let on that they were up to something suspicious.

Newt was briefly frisked in search of any items that could pose a risk to the secrecy of the Erkstag, and both of his creatures had been obtained and placed in separate lockers, sealed with a key, together with his wand. Small cries and squeaks of despair were released at the cage door slamming shut – Newt allowing a promise of his return to slip out, only for it to be mocked by the gatekeeper. Aurora inadvertently snarled at this.

As the stranger rounded on her to perform the same intrusions, she whipped out her Ministry of Magic badge, holding out the form of ID and hoped he wouldn’t take note of the department she worked in – she’d have no meaning for being here if he perceived as such. He accepted, snatched away their pass keys, picked up one of the glow bugs from the bucket, shook it until its backend lit up and threw the creature into the empty glass lamp. Though they were appreciative of the light, Aurora’s stomach twisted slightly at the way he stared at the remaining insects; as though he wanted to eat them, not use them to see. Theseus had once again saved Aurora by seeking a job for her at the Ministry, and if all went well, he’d managed to save himself in the long-run, too.

As usual when the two siblings form a plan between them, something inevitably goes wrong. This time, it led them to being surrounded by possibly hundreds of small, blast-ended skrewts with their claws raised in warning, pincers snapping wickedly. Newt immediately sank into his knees, bottom sticking out as he started to swivel his hips, arms copying that of the creatures before him. It seemed to work for a second, their defensive stances relaying Newt’s submissive posture, until they realised that Aurora had not yet assumed the position. All it took was a hiss of desperation from her brother for her to squat and imitate this ridiculous act, following his direction and making their way deeper into the underground. She almost shook her head in disbelief because how, of all things, was this the manoeuvre that worked?

It had taken at least 15 minutes, if not, more, to find Theseus. They’d crabbed themselves in constant circles, making their way down the spiral, further and further into darkness, at which point the muscles in their bodies were beginning to twinge at the unusual angles. Their brother was currently hanging upside down with a singular skrewt reaching for his dangling hair, clapping its claws very close to his eyes.

“Rescuing me, are you?” He began, tone of voice higher than usual from excess oxygen travelling to his brain. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dangling there.

“That’s the general idea,”

“And I presume this, whatever it is that you’re doing, is strategic?”

Aurora risked stopping her movements just for a second to rest her spine. “Something called ‘Limbic Mimicry’, apparently – supposed to discourage violence engagement…” The Skrewts started to note she had stopped moving and began to stare curiously, so she restarted, any embarrassment long-since forgotten.

“I have actually only ever attempted it once before,” Newt admitted, still waltzing in circles mid-conversation.

“And the results?”

“Uh, inconclusive…” the younger brother disclosed honestly, eyes scanning Theseus’ bounds for weak points. He began to ramble anxiously about how it had been in a secure laboratory setting in a controlled environment, along with extra back-up in case his experiment failed.

Theseus listened patiently, not having the heart to shut Newt down but wanting his freedom all the same. “And the ultimate outcome presumably being-“ He bit his tongue to discontinue his talking as a large appendage with delicate hairs and sharp spikes advanced on Newt, clicking and clapping next to his ear as if attempting to distinguish intruder from prisoner. “-our survival.”

As if by the grace of God, the firefly buzzed desperately in the lamp next to the adjacent cell, its light crackling before shutting off completely, plunging the inmate into darkness. In response, the prisoner began to scream in horror as the stinger removed itself from atop Newt’ shoulder and plunged itself deep into his abdomen, ripping his body from the bindings and dragging it down into the depths below. His cries were quietened the further the stinger sailed, and as the trio glanced at each other in alarm, a set of bones was thrown back onto their level, thick green liquid pouring off each part and the smaller skrewts gathered around, feasting on whatever was left. Newt cut Theseus down with immediate effect, a thump echoing through the halls as his shoulders made contact with the ground.

Chapter Text

Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared at the trio, indecisive as to whether they should attack or ignore these strangers. Newt cupped his hands and produced a low-sounding whistle through his fingers, the noise reverberating off the walls, travelling fast. He then crouched back down and began the previous ritual of swivelling his hips, hands crooked in the air, as he started strutting towards the small creatures. They immediately responded by impersonating his body language, defences dropping, and if it had been under different circumstances, the situation would have been positively laughable. Aurora wanted to question her brother on the whistle but decided as he had managed to get them this far, he was free to produce whatever noises he so wished.

The remaining siblings joined in on this performance and ebbed their way along the walls, being careful not to step too harshly and risk alerting the giant Manticore of their whereabouts. After several minutes, the Skrewts began to hold their eyes on the trio a little sharper and Newt was getting worried.

“You’re not swivelling properly! Swivel, swivel, but delicately,” the younger brother chastised in a desperate whisper.

“I am swivelling like you are, Newt!” Theseus bit back, throwing an annoyed glance at Aurora who just shrugged and continued.

“I don’t think you are-“

As if to cut their bickering short, the next prisoner’s lamp sparked before falling into darkness. The siblings held their breath, watching on in horror as the stinger from earlier returned to impale its next victim, Theseus ducking out the way in a second. This reminder of their impending doom paused the arguments as they threw more effort into swivelling, making their way closer and closer to the exit. As the next victim’s skeleton was launched back up to the ground in front of them, a small droplet of acid landed against Theseus’ trousers and burned a hole through the leg, just catching his skin with a minor blister. The oldest grit his teeth, and after two more levels of constant twisting, Newt let out another whistle. This time, Aurora couldn’t hold herself back.

“What do you think you are doing?” she hissed.

“We’re going to need some help!”

On his reply, a vile-sounding squelch echoed along with a few squawks of distaste from the Skrewts – Theseus had managed to step on one and crush it to death under his boot. An irked expression was thrown his way at the loss of this so-called innocent lifeform, until his lamp began to fizz and eventually blacken. Aurora’s face dropped and her skin paled as the small creatures squealed and ran for their lives. Then a groan from deep below the surface started.

In unison, all began to high-tail it down the endless loops of corridors and flagstone walls, listening to the incessant clunking of claws stabbing into the floor behind them. The Manticore had risen to their height and its stinger threatened to separate the trio. A shrill call to his younger siblings, Theseus yelled for them to follow his direction, but only Newt was able – Aurora had been forced down a smaller hallway, barely wide enough to fit a person, and was running.

Claws were diving through walls from multiple directions, shrapnel flying every which way, and Newt was finally separated off from his brother. All three were now fending for themselves. As if it couldn’t get worse, searing hot fluid was pulsed through the stinger’s core, flooding its way through the pathways, burning everything in its wake. Any remnant of cave-dwelling weeds or plant life from the surface brought down on someone’s boot, was disintegrated into hot ash along with many of the wooden beams of which held the ceiling. Orange flames licked at what little oxygen could be found this deep below, only igniting so far before suffocating into nothing more than black smoke.

Theseus had been narrowly missed by another charge of burning magma, sliding around the corner at the very last possible second. Newt and Aurora incidentally found themselves colliding with one another, the tunnels at which they had bolted meeting in the middle, and continued running together, though he had steered them back in the direction of the centre. The girl was trying to pull her arm free from his grasp but he held on tight – it was then she realised that a hoard of Skrewts were also gaining on them, as if the Manticore wasn’t enough.

As they reached the middle, Theseus’ body rammed into Newt’s, almost sending the younger boy flying into the depths of hell itself. His siblings grabbed each arm, throwing him back towards them and leaning against the wall momentarily for a breath. The adrenaline running through their veins was almost overcoming them, the lack of oxygen at this level doing little else to help other than to heighten their senses. To the outside eye, they were getting complacent, but inside they were grasping at time – the longer they stayed alive, the better the outcome for everyone including their friends on the surface. Almost to disturb their moment of calm, one of the claws lunged at the trio, cracking into the wall just inches from Aurora’s face which sent her off running again.

As her legs burned with the effort, Aurora ran down one hallway, then a second, and on entry to the third a web of fractures in the stone above her head split open the brick. The young girl dove out of its way and fell to her stomach, but on landing the stinger stabbed at more of the support structure, sending rubble and dust tumbling down onto her back. Despite the weight of them, the brunette began to wriggle herself free, though just as one arm became unrestricted a searing pain shot through her body as if fire was burning every patch of skin. She let out a wail of a scream, biting into her lip to reduce as much noise as was possible once she’d come back to herself a little, but as the stinger reeled back, it drew her flesh with it.

The demonic limb returned quickly, another punch sending its claws into the stone beneath the girl, perforating her shoulder again with a wound straight through to the other side. As if noticing she’d been speared, the creature drew its appendage backwards, and had the rubble not been quite so heavy it was likely she’d have been taken to the prison’s core. Another cry of pain reverberated the halls and as the claw momentarily detached itself, she made a swift decision to dive forward once more, slipping from beneath the fragments and darting in the direction of her brother’s voices.

Breaths coming out in frantic rasps, she stumbled along as fast as her legs would bare and gained on the familiar yells of her siblings. Upon reaching them, however, a similar appendage from before wound itself round Theseus’ torso and tightened like a boa constrictor, his eyes widening in panic. Newt and Aurora held on to each arm, heels digging into the cracking stone below as their older brother was dragged unceremoniously toward the giant hole at the centre, the two being pulled forward with him. From the levels closer to the surface, two small creatures came bumbling down the corridor, the old guard from the gates running after them, casting various immobilizing spells in their direction.

Newt threw a quick ‘Accio’ spell at Teddy and Pickett which sent them flying toward the trio and quickly launched the red tie in Theseus’ direction, calling out for him to take a hold on it as they all started falling into the Manticore’s den. In seconds, the five landed with a crunch, seemingly having apparated to a forest close-by. The tie, gifted by Albus himself, was a port-key – whether Newt actively knew about it or made a quick assumption, the two Aurors thought not to ask in case the answer was one they didn’t actually desire to know.

Aurora let out a restrained groan, rolling onto her side and holding herself tightly as the adrenaline started to ware off. She was attempting to ground herself from the pain by recalling her surroundings – the trees were dying, there were small patches of frost remaining in the shaded canopy of the tree branches and a mixture of brown and yellow leaves covered the forest floor. The two boys were gaining their footing, Theseus suddenly realizing the now-amputated limb was still holding onto him as he shoved it off, both watching in disgust as it slithered into the water. As their eyes followed the ripples in the lake, they fixed on the captivating view before them – the Hogwarts Castle grounds sat like a miracle in a storm. It was as if a breath of fresh air had found its way into their lungs and they turned to Aurora who was balancing on her knees now.

Without a second thought, they both held her shoulders and apparated across the lake to the iron gates of which held Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had been many years since any of the Scamanders had set foot on these sacred grounds, and Aurora wasn’t sure she ever would have again if not for Grindelwald. As the oldest two made their way through the gates, climbing the cobble stairs towards the main entrance, Aurora wavered dizzily from where she stood feeling as warm liquid seeped from the throbbing wound. She couldn’t stop to take a look – they had a job to do – so she grit her teeth and wobbled onwards.

As she reached the entrance hall, the corners of her vision darkened slightly and her focus was fluctuating, though not enough that she felt she’d fall. Aurora continued, just a little slower than her siblings, and was now carrying her injured arm to impede the throbbing where possible. The boys had noticed her sluggish behaviour, but as her eyes seemed to be scanning their surroundings they took it as she was merely observing the artistry gathered along the walls – living paintings watching her, some of which seemed puzzled. To them, she appeared to be looking but not seeing, and with the hundreds of students passing their halls every day this usually meant something was wrong. Newt nor Theseus could wait much longer for her to follow so walked on ahead, aiming for the main hall where the first lot of students were filing out having finished their meal.

Having made it to level ground, Aurora was bumped into, leading her to shy against the wall for a moment to regain her breathing – the pain searing through her wounds was agonizing, but she had a meeting to attend. As the remaining students exited the Great Hall, she stepped quietly inside, respecting the professor that had already started on the conversation, moving toward the group at the very end. Though none of them showed any signs of noticing her presence, Dumbledore’s eyes cast over her for a brief moment as she took a seat on the end of the bench, leaning down onto her right forearm, and continued to listen to Newt.

“Well done, all of you, well done,” He praised, hands clasped together. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations?” Theseus asked incredulously.

“Indeed! Professor Hicks managed to foil an assassination,” he reached out to her in gratitude. “And you are alive! And you are well,” Albus motioned to Theseus, Aurora stifling a laugh behind her hand at Dumbledore’s inability to hide his surprise. “The fact that everything didn’t go precisely to plan, was precisely the plan!”

“Albus, forgive me, but aren’t we back where we started?” The older Scamander queried suspiciously.

“Actually, I would argue that things are, a great deal worse,” he admitted solemnly, arms crossing over his chest as he began to pace lightly before them, casting another eye to Aurora of whom was now developing a light sheen across her forehead. At the expressions moving over the party’s faces, he turned on Lally. “You haven’t told them, have you?”

The Professor of Charms lowered her eyes sheepishly. “Grindelwald has been allowed to stand in the election,”

“What?” Aurora finally piped up, head raising to stare at the messenger. “How can this be?” She stood then, wincing slightly, and marched to the group.

Dumbledore’s eyes closed in on her small form again, observing the wince but not questioning anything. “Because Vogel chose easy, over right,” he finished, a sigh passing his lips as he shot a look of sympathy to Newt.

Drawing his wand, he silently cast a charm to produce smoke and began drawing shapes in the air – it would have looked slightly maddening to someone on the outside as until a minute later, all to be seen was whirls of grey fog. Jacob, still not acclimatised to the gifts magic could provide, let out a worried yelp and stood back, nudging into Aurora. Theseus lay a hand across his shoulder in support, grounding the muggle and offering him some words of encouragement before drawing his attention back to the artist.
An entire mountain range with thick forests and snow-covered ground emerged from within the mist, along with a beautiful monument surrounded by stone walls and hut-like buildings. Newt mumbled something about it being Bhutan, Albus commending him with a joke regarding points being added to Hufflepuff’s count, as the others stared in awe. The professor explained that the wizardry elections were always held here, the magic stemming from every plant and every rock, and there lying within its beauty would be the ‘Walk of The Quilin’.

The longer Aurora stood still, the more her legs started to tremble. She was capable of holding herself together, having done it before when a visit to a wizarding family home had turned bad and the girl needed to feign her lack of hurt, but the longer time went on, the weaker she felt. If the brunette could get her hands on some medical supplies without raising suspicions, perhaps then she could patch herself up and continue, though as she thought this, her teeth began to chatter quietly in her jaw – assumedly this was from shock, though the girl had hoped she was wrong.

Dumbledore was now on the move again, walking silently behind the group and analysing their statures while their attention was diverted elsewhere. Theseus’ clothes had a few small holes in them, though he didn’t actually appear to be injured, and Newt’s coat bore the evidence of ash with a couple of small tears to the fabric – again, seemingly unharmed despite this. Jacob was tense, shoulders and tight arms evidencing this just so, but Lally seemed unbothered yet intrigued by the premise of Bhutan. Aurora, however, was already aware of his engagements - she watched over her shoulder as his eyes narrowed at her own, trailing a line down her posture with apprehension. The girl seemed to be in discomfort; dark lines were beginning to show under her eyes, face visibly pale, shoulders hunched and a glint of sweat forming across her head. Her eyes were struck with worry, but for what, Albus didn’t know. He couldn’t see evidence of a specific injury, but when she shook her head at him and walked away to hide on the opposite side of Theseus, he determined she was merely concealing all damages. He didn’t like that.

As the group diminished their conversations, they began to disperse in order to return to their accommodations for the evening. Once they’d eaten a meal, they could come up with several more plans on the best course of action, but until that point they needed to return safely. Albus leant against the table, watching as they made their exit.

“Miss Scamander,” he called, his voice maintaining the even tone he used for his students. “Before you leave, I have something I need from you,”

“With respect, sir, I am sure this could wait until the morning,” she responded, taking minute steps backwards toward the doors.

“It will only be for a moment, the others are welcome to wait outside, if they wish,” Albus insisted, a challenging glare darkening his eyes.

Blue met hazel once again and a silent battle of wills was transpiring beneath the surface. Aurora broke this contact, pulling a smile onto her features and reassuring the others that she’d catch up in just a minute, watching quietly as they left before dropping her façade and rounding on Albus. His head was gently tilted to the left, eyes softening at her sudden expression of exhaustion. She pulled the wand he had given her from the only intact pocket of her coat and held it out, questions evidently held on her lips but not being asked. His hands reached for it deftly, retrieving the English Oak with such care that Aurora was almost taken by surprise at the softness of the action.

“This was my sister’s wand,” he answered, only offering a brief explanation without divulging any further details.

Chapter Text

Was? Aurora thought to herself. As in, no more? Until yesterday, she wasn’t even aware that Albus had a brother, let alone another sibling, but something terrible had obviously happened to use the past tense in such a short manner. She was now extremely thankful she’d managed to keep the wand safe – Merlin knows what would have happened should it have been lost to the Manticore. She walked to stand in front of the alter, momentarily eyeing the golden owl statue having never seen it this close before, and turned back to the Professor.

“Thank you for allowing me to borrow it,” she recognised, a little wary of his motives, still ignoring the ache across her torso.

He acknowledged her thanks with a nod, before speaking again. “Is there something that I should be made aware of?”

She quirked a confused expression. “In regards to, what?”

“Anything, really, before someone realizes first,”

She turned her head slightly in suspicion, eyeing him from the side. “I am not sure what you think-“

Dumbledore cut her off mid-sentence, stalking across to her with his shoulders taught and eyes dark. He wasn’t meaning any force by his actions, but the intimidation tactic was to advise that she tell him now or reap worse consequences later. Aurora wasn’t entirely certain if he knew of her injury – perhaps he was just speculating – but at this point the throbbing was starting to reduce slightly so she’d assumed it was better for it. Or maybe she was being naïve.

“Newt and I released Theseus from Erkstag,” she started, her voice not much louder than a mumble. “It wasn’t easy, but we managed just fine.”

“And how, exactly, did you gain entry? I only provided one pass-key for Newt,” Albus suggested, walking up one of the steps to be eye-to-eye.

Her eyes changed to a look of mock innocence, though, really, she was starting to feel a little foolish. “I may have duplicated the original,”

His brows raised in mirth. “Must have been a perfect replica to fool the warden,”

She shook her head and winced. “I’m unsure whether I fooled him or if he anticipated we would not return,” The girl admitted.

Albus took another step forward. “How successful was this escape plan of yours? By what means did you all manage freedom?” His voice was dropping – she was tiptoeing around his real intentions. He was running out of patience, and she, potentially, out of time.

One step back was met with one forward. “My brother knew of some behavioural traits that we could mimic to reduce the creatures’ aggression, then we nearly got eaten by a Manticore despite this, used your port-key and landed in front of Hogwarts,” she finished, trying to sound chirpy to deflect his daunting front.

Albus wasn’t buying it - he didn’t necessarily think she was lying, but withholding information was as bad as such. She appeared to have her arms crossed in defence, so in an attempt to soften her exterior and bring the girl’s guard down his hand reached out slowly to grasp at her forearm. However, before he could reach the fabric of her coat, her right arm seized his own in a desperate hold, eyes widening in alarm, shoulders turning away and fingers ensnaring his wrist tightly. He now noticed the tremors racking her small frame, the tiny shudders vibrating through her hand into his own. This was the evidence he needed.

“Should I call for the nurse or will you show me yourself?” Dumbledore’s tone softened a little.

“Please,” she begged quietly, though his expression didn’t falter. “It will be fine, it’s only minor – I am sure that Newt has some magic potion to fix it,” She started to step away, moving in the direction of the doors but maintained her hold on his arm in an attempt to prevent him from trying again.

“I expect whatever it is to be sorted by this evening,” he warned. “We need you well for what’s coming,” he pulled his arm gently away from her.

A brief nod in understanding and she was scurrying out of the Great Hall, feeling a little like she’d been reprimanded by a parental figure, not one of her allies. Part of her was uncertain whether Albus would have let her go, but he seemed to trust that she would patch herself up, whatever was happening. This worried Aurora – she couldn’t tell the others what had happened, their trust in her already seemed limited due to only meeting a short while ago, and the girl didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that further. She was already on the outskirts of the team, perhaps they would discard her completely if she became too much of a burden.

As the doors opened to allow her exit, closing silently behind, Jacob appeared from under the stairwell. He seemed to be holding something in his hand, a sheepish grimace gracing his features, and as her eyes scanned the room, none of the others appeared.

“Uh, hey, thought I’d just wait here for you, sounded kind of important,” he greeted.

“Thank you, that was really kind,” She eyed the object suspiciously.

“Newt, he, uh, told me to give this to you,” as he handed over the small item, she realised it was her wand broken in two. “Said he was sorry – the Murtlap thought it was a twig, got an awful spark from it!” he let out a quiet chuckle but stopped at her grim expression.

“I guess I’d better buy a new one then,” she huffed a sigh. She didn’t blame the creature, after all it was only instinct, but this was just something else she didn’t want to worry about today.

“Are we going wand shopping? Is there a place to go for wizarding, stuff?” he motioned to the room surrounding them.

Her lips broke into a smile. “There sure is, you’re going to love it,”

As they started walking down the steps, edging their way to the main courtyard, Jacob stopped again. “Wait, we don’t have to fly there do we?” he sounded exasperated.

“Apparate,” she corrected with a chuckle. “But no, we can walk,”

As a student, on average it would take Aurora roughly 15 minutes to walk to Hogsmeade – perhaps the bumbling excitement of leaving the school grounds sped things up – but today it was taking longer as Jacob was observing his surroundings in depth. She was sure the bleeding had finally stopped – there wasn’t any more liquid moistening her clothing – but she was regretting allowing Jacob to take the longer route.

The muggle was babbling about how the winters at his Aunt’s farm were always so wonderful with freshly fallen snow and clean air – not like New York where everything was tampered with grey. They watched as some younger witches and wizards skated along the layer of ice coating the river, giggling with glee and joking whenever their fellows toppled over. Jacob seemed to watch them with longing – he missed Queenie and wanted to give her the life she deserved, but he was unwilling to allow her to risk everything on his behalf, however selfish she assumed he was. Aurora gently lay a hand on his arm to bring him back and started walking towards the village again.

The youngest Scamander sibling started to tell Jacob of her upbringing, including how Newt came to be a Magizoologist and how Theseus had become a War Hero. She spoke of their mother fondly, the wand that was now broken in her pocket belonging to the lady as a hand-me-down once she’d purchased a newer one, and advised that her father did not play as much a role in their childhood as some should. Never once did Mr Kowalski interrupt, nor judge the young girl for her story, only listening intently with a kind aura surrounding them. At some point during her monologue, she had turned to Newt and Leta’s relationship – perhaps having been guided there by Jacob’s brief questions – which also led to her own enquiries as to Tina’s involvement with her brother.

The muggle’s eyes lit up in fascination at the suspiciously dark, yet well-aged building hiding amongst the more modern structures, the sign reading “Ollivander’s”. Countless cardboard boxes laid stacked atop one another in their hundreds, ranging from purples and reds to blacks and golds. The dust was thick in the air, and not one surface was without some kind of wrapping or wand in the making. Aurora was allowing him to take it all in for a moment, relishing in the warmth that the furnace provided this small building, and began looking over the various types for her next purchase. As if reading her mind, a man far older than them swung round on his ladder which sat along some railings to allow ease of access to all cupboards containing wands, a gallant smile on his face at seeing new visitors.

“A Muggle looking for a wand?” He asked incredulously. “I never thought I’d see the day!”

“No, Sir, my friend here needs a new one – hers was broken by-“ Jacob paused before he said too much.

“Say no more, dear boy,” the Wizard flattered, stepping down from the ladder. “For you, young lady?”

Aurora just smiled kindly with a nod, stepping towards the counter to await further instruction. She only knew of this place thanks to her time as a student, though she had never picked out a wand herself. If the girl was correct, just six shops down was the most wonderful building filled with sweet treats and all kinds of delights any witch or wizard could imagine – Jacob would love that! She just had to keep him from picking up a wand and-

Whizz!

The muggle had been pretending to wield one of the half-made wands, pointing it at the small painting on the wall whilst making whooshing noises with his mouth before accidentally dropping it on the floor, the wooden stick shooting off across the room in a burst of red and orange sparks. It made a thud as it collided with a display case of ready-made wands, clattering to the floor with the tower of wood left wobbling, though thankfully it did not fall. All eyes were suddenly on him as he stuffed his now-empty hands into coat pockets, offering a sheepish but apologetic smile and stepping behind Aurora to hide in fear of the slightly aghast wand-maker.

As the girl was about to apologise for the incident, Mr Ollivander rounded on her. “What wand did you brandish before?”

“It was a hand-me-down from my mother,” she started, quietly. “I’m unsure of the kind.”

“Very well, we shall find one that suits, my dear,” the older man offered kindly, reaching to the lowest shelf and drawing an auburn Hawthorn wand, roughly eight and a quarter inches in length, from within the black container.

He requested that she use the simple spell, Lumos, to trial its powers which instead shot a small fireball from its end to the back of the shop, almost in fury at being asked such a demeaning task. “No, no, that just won’t do!” He huffed, retrieving it quickly from her hands and returning the wand to its shelf.

Jacob was watching in astonishment as the wand misbehaved in the hands of his dear friend’s sister. He’d remembered Newt had mentioned something about magic wands picking their owners based on their true character, though some were known to be more forgiving than others, but clearly this wand did not feel valued at Aurora’s hand. He had assumed that anyone with as kind-a-heart as Aurora Scamander could wield whichever wand they so choose, but apparently, he had been incorrect.

Two more wands, then another, passed through the girl’s hands but none had quite felt the right match. No more accidents had occurred, but Aurora nor Ollivander were completely happy with the choices thus far and time was moving on. The longer she remained standing, the darker her vision became and the weaker her will reduced – she needed to rest and recover, but now was not the time, though it would appear the wands knew, too, of her fragility and were responding accordingly.

Aurora was readying herself to give up and return another day just as Ollivander brought out one final wand, seemingly unperturbed by the lack of connection between the girl and his selection. The man seemed surprisingly happy with this choice, having apparently forgotten about this particular one, and unveiled a deep reddish-brown wand, at nine and a half inches, made from fir wood with a unicorn hair core. The second Aurora’s hand clasped around the base, it was as if the sun had shone its rays upon her in this very shop – she felt warm and happy, like she’d had some curse finally lifted – was this how it was always meant to feel? Her mother’s wand had been handed down to her, so as she was not the original owner, perhaps it purely did its duty and cared little for the Witch’s character, only humouring the magic she used as if it couldn’t be bothered to excel for her. Every person in the shop felt the same reaction, and Aurora knew for sure this was her new wand. She thanked Ollivander for his time, adding a tip to his payment for the unexpected intrusion and accidents alike, before leading Jacob back into the street.

The pair ventured further down, cobblestone paths slippery with layers of ice, until the sweet smell of Honeydukes interrupted their steps. Aurora coaxed Jacob into the building first, taking a second outside to breathe and winced as she readjusted her coat, then entered the building herself. Of course, having new visitors on a quieter day meant that the shop owner was more than willing to provide small amounts of free samples – Jacob taking as much as he could, Aurora refusing the kind offer on the grounds of being familiar with the franchise already. Butter candies, firecrackers and numerous flavours of beans passed the muggle’s lips, relishing the sugary delights as if he hadn’t tasted something so good in so long, and he chose a handful of his favourites to purchase.

However, upon laying them out at the counter, Jacob realised he only possessed a small amount of muggle money and turned to replace the items on their shelves, a little saddened at his loss. Aurora quickly stopped him with a frown, returning the produce to the counter and handed over a handful of coins to the cashier, of whom thanked her with a warm smile. He made a strict effort to prove his appreciation, offering up some of his treats, though they were declined, so instead he made a promise that she could have as many pastries from Kowalski’s Bakery as she so wished, providing he could get it back up and running again.

Upon their exit, a familiar voice broke through the bustle of the streets. “Having fun, are we?” Theseus had been waiting for them outside, eyeing Jacob’s collection with amusement.

When Jacob only offered a shrug in response, popping a sherbet in his mouth, the oldest continued. “We are staying with Dumbledore’s brother tonight, just across the way,” he motioned to the Hogs Head Inn with a nod. “Everyone is waiting.”

Chapter Text

As the trio approached the ramshackle outbuilding, unlike previous days when there were customers inside enjoying the warmth of the Inn, the shutters had been closed and all seemed dark. Theseus’ hand balled to a fist and rapped a rhythm onto the oak door, waiting only moments before it was opened by Aberforth, the usual grimace painting his features. Upon entry, it appeared that all had made themselves at home and were sharing friendly chatter, though Newt and Dumbledore seemed to be discussing something of greater importance based on their hushed tones. Aurora apologised to Lally and Bunty for their late arrival, Jacob showing off his collection of sweet treats proudly as the Qilin trotted over to welcome the guests.

Aurora took a seat in the booth and once her back hit the headboard she felt all the energy leave her body. The sharpness of her wounds had subsided, but now there was a low throbbing throughout, just enough to keep her heart rate raised and render her exhausted. Dumbledore bid his goodnights to the group, eyes remaining on Miss Scamander’s a little longer than everyone else’s, though she did not hold his gaze for long, before retreating upstairs to the sitting room. Aberforth plated up a bowl of stew for Jacob, the steam producing the most wonderous of scents, leaving the pot at the edge of the table for the remaining occupants to enjoy and withdrew to the second floor to join his brother.

“Astonishing,” Theseus started. “Never has something that looked so repellent tasted so delicious.”

Lally and Jacob agreed, Newt and Bunty smiling in confirmation while Aurora remained in a daze. That was, of course, until the Qilin began to call and chatter, dancing on its hindlegs in joy, clearly craving some much-needed attention.

“Who is this little one?” The muggle asked, a hint of anxiety lacing his voice.

“She’s a Qilin, Jacob,” Newt began, voice soft in admiration of the creature before them. “She’s incredibly rare – one of the most beloved creatures in the wizarding world,”

“Why?”

“Because she can see into your soul,” the youngest Scamander explained, a nervous glint in his eye. Newt feared he would be required to obliviate this knowledge from Jacob later on, as he had been made to do previously, though he supposed if that were the case, he may as well divulge this information now and watch the fascination grow in the muggle’s eyes. It was the best part of educating people. “If you are good, and worthy, then she’ll see that. But if on the other hand you’re cruel and deceitful, then she’ll know that too.”

Jacob laughed nervously at the small creature as it pawed at his legs, mewling and chuffing in her attempt to communicate with him. “Oh yeah? Did she just tell you that, or-“

Newt shrugged anxiously. “Not exactly tells,”

“Well she bows, but only in the presence of someone truly pure of heart,” Lally clarified, putting her spoon to rest in her now-empty bowl. “I mean, almost none of us are of course, no matter how good of a person one tries to be,” she paused. “There was actually a time, many, many years ago where the Qilin chose who would lead us.”

Aurora’s hearing was fading in and out. She was sure she was still conscious, the flickering colours from the fire were still dancing before her, but perhaps her body was reducing the unnecessary functions to preserve energy for the more important senses. The brunette knew of the Qilin’s origin, and as such she was also aware of its powers, but it seemed harder now to pay much attention to anything, or to even pick up her spoon and bring it to her lips. So instead, she unfocused her eyes and watched drowsily as Jacob started dancing around the room with the Qilin calf bucking around his legs.

The familiar yet almost silent whispering interrupted her stupor, alarm bells ringing in her mind to drag her back into the real world and diverting eyes to the mirror by the bar. More words were developing in the condensation on the reflective glass, every letter scrawling one by one until a short sentence remained. There lay the declarations of someone clearly in a bad way, “I want to come home”, plain as day for all to see should they refocus their attention elsewhere. However, it appeared only the youngest Scamanders had noticed. Newt observed the sentence in suspicion, scanning his fellow comrades for any indication that they, too, had perceived this foreign concept, but only Aurora’s eyes met his own, seemingly already aware of it. His response was a frown of concern, hers turning to one of mild panic as she shook her head, advising him not to pursue this curiosity any further. Unable to hold back his scepticisms, he rose from the table and walked upstairs in search of the Dumbledores.

10 minutes had passed and Newt did not return. Theseus was assisting Bunty with transferring the Qilin to the safety of his brother’s case, handing her gently to the valued assistant as she descended the ladder carefully, while Lally and Jacob were edging their way to the designated bedrooms for the night. Stomachs full and bodies warm, they were all ready for a good night’s sleep to prepare for tomorrow’s misadventures, whatever they may be. Aurora had been squirming slightly on the wooden bench – she couldn’t find a position comfy enough to perch herself – and watched as her friends all advanced to the second floor, creaks and groans emanating from the rickety, old staircase.

The group had left behind their dirty crockery - she supposed they’d assumed Aberforth would just cast a spell to clean it, or perhaps they had simply forgotten to do it themselves, but she felt an awful sense of guilt in leaving the table like this, considering the kindness he had shown without even knowing them properly. The girl sat for a few moments more, attempting to draw any energy back to herself, then stood against the table top to gather the plates and cutlery. However, upon bringing them to the counter where she could wash them up herself, one of the bowls slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground loudly, splintering shards of china across the floor. As she leant down to retrieve the broken pieces, black spots clouded her vision and she grabbed for the corner of the counter in desperation, attempting to hold herself upright where possible but crouching closer to the floor nonetheless.

“Merlin’s beard…” she groaned, spare hand sweeping to cover her eyes, willing the splodges to disappear. She hadn’t even noticed the footsteps approaching.

“You alright?” a gruff voice called hesitantly from a few metres away, soft clinking of porcelain pieces being collected one by one filling the silence.

“Yeah, been a long day,” she answered quietly, a humorous tone added for reassurance as she uncovered her eyes, relieved to see the darkness had subsided, and stood slowly. “I’m sorry, it slipped from my hand, I can reimburse you,”

Aberforth shook his head, eyes still hardened with distrust though they were marginally brighter now. He drew his wand and motioned to the cracked shards gathered within his hand, the pair watching as they wound themselves back together, sealing without a scar. A small niggle from below her shoe was irritating the girl and as she lifted her foot, a little piece of china burst into action and returned itself to its position at the very edge of the bowl. Whole again, back in one piece, fit for purpose once more. Another quick incantation and the dishes were now also washing themselves, towels drying the crockery and invisible hands returning them to their respected cupboards.

“Thank you for the food, and your generosity, we are all appreciative,” she expressed her gratitude, also covering for the group should Aberforth have found them frustrating in any way, and tiptoed to the chair sat before the fireplace, seeking its warmth and glow.

Newt re-emerged minutes later from his discussion with Albus, bid his sibling goodnight and wandered down into his case, shutting the lid gently behind him.

As her eyelids began to grow heavy, legs curled underneath her frame to cradle her body, she played through the memories of breaking Theseus out of Erkstag. What could she have done differently to avoid the situation she was in now? Would they have made it out alive if not for Albus and the portkey? How was she to tell her siblings of the injuries she had sustained, surely, they would be furious? Brunette hair met the arm of the chair as she drifted into a light slumber, neck craned to one side.

Aberforth had been cleaning the Inn ready to reopen in the morning once his guests had departed when he noticed the young girl curled up in the chair, completely at the mercy of her subconscious. Every now and again she would release a small shudder, her whole body shaking with the effort, before settling down again. He rounded on her small form, dragging a throw from the nearby armchair and laying it gently across, only pausing to note a few small, black lines trailing up her neck. On closer inspection they appeared to reside from below her shirt collar, but where they went beneath that was unbeknownst to him. A frown grew and he turned, making headway for his older brother’s private quarters.

“Did something happen to that girl?” Aberforth stormed into Albus’ room without knocking.

“I’m sorry?” Albus asked dubiously, brows furrowing in exasperation at his brother’s abruptness.

“The girl downstairs – she’s got dark lines running up her neck,” Within seconds Albus was descending the stairs in search of Aurora, eyes hardening with frustration and concern.

Noticing her form crumpled into the corner of an armchair, blanket laid loosely across her, Albus scanned her body quickly before laying his eyes on the exact markings mentioned by his sibling. Sure enough, black lines had adorned her throat, spreading across her skin in a web of toxins advancing in the direction of her skull. His deft hands latched onto her collar, peeling back the dampened fabric ever so gently to delay disturbing her as he traced the lines over her collarbone and under the remaining clothing. His eyes met Aberforth’s who could only look on in confusion – the elder knew she’d been injured but not to this extent.

“She was injured at the Erkstag this morning,” he concluded, watching as her chest rose and fell with quick breaths – faster than what a normal person should be in their slumber. There was a sheen forming across her forehead now, too, from where she was perspiring.

“By what?” He only received a pointed look in response as they retreated upstairs to discuss.

The sun rose quickly, the wooden shutters allowing small slashes of light through the cracks, highlighting the various dust spores floating in the air. If it hadn’t been for the noise of someone clearing their throat, Aurora likely would have remained asleep, basking in the little rays of sunshine hitting her figure on the chair. The young girl launched from her position, head twisting rapidly to find the source of the noise and wincing with a yelp as her injury re-established its existence. Her eyes closed and the uninjured arm grasped tightly at her shoulder for a moment, attempting to soothe the grating pain, while she decelerated her breathing.

“They haven’t noticed yet, have they?” Aurora only stared at him with a neutral expression, face still tight with the effort of supressing her cries. “Though I think you will need something with a higher collar if you intend to keep it that way.”

Albus had seen something, Aurora knew that much, but what had he meant about her choice of clothing? As if hearing her thoughts, or perhaps seeing the cogs turning behind her eyes, he took a step back so that her reflection lay bare to them in the golden mirror. “What-“ she gaped, shocked, at the image of herself in the glass. “I didn’t-“

“Have you not taken a look at it?” his head tilted in suspicion as she traced the lines with her finger tip, grimacing slightly as she reached a bruised patch.

“I didn’t want to see it,” she admitted, removing her eyes from the mirror but keeping them away from his. She knew he’d be judging her decisions, how could he not, but she was unsure whether that was something she could cope with right now. “If I could ignore it for long enough, perhaps it would go away,”

“How is that going?” he clipped rhetorically with a sharpness to his tone – was he angry with her or just concerned?

“Dumbledore, please,” she begged, finally meeting his eyes. “You can’t tell them,” Just then, the floorboards above their heads began to groan under the weight of those that had stayed the night, indicating that some of their friends were awake.

“I told you to get it sorted,” he warned, taking two small steps backwards in the direction of the stairs, leaving her open and vulnerable to anyone walking down.

“Albus!” she cried out, pacing several steps toward him swiftly, panic written across her face. “It all got out of hand!” she claimed desperately. One of the doors on the landing opened, her eyes lifting to track their steps through the floor. “There’s too much to do, I didn’t have time to stop, I needed a new wand,” she rambled, eyes starting to shine as tears begun to form.

“What are you so afraid of, that you would go through all of this just to keep it from your friends? From your family,” He spoke softly now, frustration calming as he observed her frantic state – it really had gotten out of hand. Aurora gave no response, only staring with fear-stricken eyes. “You believe they’ll think less of you,” he conceded.

The older man removed his blue scarf from its hook and advanced on her, laying the loose ends gently across the girl’s shoulders until it was wrapped around her neck securely, hiding all evidence, for the most part. She buried her chin into the fabric, relishing in its momentary comfort as Dumbledore turned and stood quietly by her side, plastering a smile on his face as Lally made her way down the stairs to greet them.

“Did you sleep in your clothes?” she enquired, eyeing the outfit questionably.

“Yes, I was asleep before I could remember to change. I can do it once everyone is here and we have made a plan,” she replied quickly, covering her tracks.

Chapter Text

Eulalie Hicks summoned a steaming cup of coffee to the table, cracking open a newspaper and settling herself tidily on the chair to catch up on any information she may have missed. Theseus made his way down only moments later, followed by Jacob, as both Bunty and Newt emerged from his case, the lid popping open with a gentle clink and climbing out to join the group. Her youngest brother’s eyes scanned the girl’s appearance in suspicion.

“Aurora, you need to change your clothes,” he chastised, a hint of confusion lacing his voice.

“Yes, thank you,” she sighed sarcastically, withholding an eye roll at his accidental ignorance. Newt wasn’t always the greatest with words, so in that respect he was pretty easy to forgive.

Dumbledore’s hand gently clasped the girl’s arm, her eyes finding his quickly in worry but calming once she’d realised he was motioning to the front door – a request to follow without making a scene. Aurora trailed behind obediently, pulling the front door closed behind them but Albus was already walking towards the snow-covered bridge, black leather shoes leaving lines of prints in the untouched flakes. The sun’s rays had melted some of the icicles hanging from the signposts, droplets of cool water collecting and falling to the ground below – lethal to those that stepped foot on it, but beautiful to those there to observe. Albus came to a stop halfway across the cobbled overpass, his back to the Inn but eyes watching as she caught up. He didn’t want to raise suspicion, but he did require privacy.

“Miss Scamander,” he started once her frame was alongside his own. “Do you not understand the importance of your role in this group?”

At this, her ears perked. Truly, she wasn’t even aware that she had a role, let alone its significance. “With respect, Sir, I have no role,” she advised, watching as he glanced over the barrier for a moment. “I only came for the letter Theseus sent regarding Newt’s accident – as of yet, I have been no help,”

His eyes found hers again, the white snow reflecting the blue of his irises perfectly. “Aurora, I sent that letter to you,” Albus paused, watching as realization began to kick in. “I know Grindelwald approached you last year, and I know you fear he will come back for you,”

“How? I didn’t-“ Panic was rising now. “I haven’t told anyone that!”

“Do you know what this is?” The older man pulled a triangular-shaped locket from his coat sleeve, withheld from a chain, the silver metal catching the sun’s rays and shining brightly. It dangled in front of her eyes, the purple and red gemstones glimmering almost hypnotically.

“That is,” Aurora paused, searching for his face behind the object. “It’s a blood pact,” she whispered quietly, looking around discreetly to ensure they were alone. “Who’s?”

“Mine,” He could see the moment her jaw dropped in astonishment. “And Grindelwald’s.”

As she scoured his face for any break in expression to indicate a lie, finding nothing but vulnerable sincerity, the glinting chain redrew her attention to his hand. The cord was wrapped around multiple times, leading further up his forearm beneath the sleeve but the contrast in skin tone was what caught her eye. She gently took hold of his hand, sliding the material up and away from his wrist to reveal lines of purple scarring circling the flesh, disappearing below the bunched cotton. There weren’t many, just two, but they ran the length of his limb as if wire had been constricting, cutting into the skin causing permanent damage.

Aurora knew this was potentially dangerous territory – the look Dumbledore was offering seemed like a silent plea to maintain her emotions, as well as her questions – he was revealing something which could prove detrimental should others discover, and yet this was an opportunity to ascertain her loyalty. Exposing himself like this, under such dire circumstances, had to be either a cry for help or a desperate attempt to convey a message. She’d hoped it was the latter.

The wrist she was currently grasping slowly moved to transfer her hand to his neck, giving the girl enough time to pull away if necessary, but laying it gently at his throat. Blue never strayed from hazel, a silent conversation of permission and reluctance occurring until she trailed her nimble fingers beneath his turned-up collar to reveal the same scars from before, tracking the circumference of his nape and relaying across his windpipe. Her brows raised in question of whether the blood pact had done this damage, a minimal nod offering an answer, and her fingers traced the lines tenderly as if to establish their realism, or even to bathe in this position of trust she had been placed.

Her hands withdrew. “You’ve attempted to break it before,” she commented.

“I have,” he started, observing as she lowered her chin back to the protection of his scarf. “We all have secrets, Aurora, but that doesn’t make us any less worthy of help nor kindness,”

“Is this the reason you cannot fight him yourself? Travers told us at The Ministry you and Grindelwald were as close as brothers, but,” she was attempting to be delicate, but he knew the direction in which her thoughts were travelling. He was also aware that she’d been holding back. “I get the feeling that information was incorrect.”

“We were closer than brothers,” was all Albus needed to offer.

The final piece of the puzzle fell into place, and suddenly the last few years had made sense. It was never truly the Ministry versus Grindelwald, it was Dumbledore. And Dumbledore needed soldiers to fight this battle for him until he could find a way to break the blood troth. The brunette hadn’t heard of such a cure for this endless promise, but she was aware of the price one would pay should they even think about betraying their betrothed – Dumbledore alone bore the evidence, though thankfully had survived his attempts. Did Grindelwald bear the same marks?

Albus was watching the war rage behind Aurora’s eyes. He knew she would never lose her temper, especially in her current state of injury, but there had been a multitude of emotions passing her face already which unnerved him. The longer she remained silent, jaw clenched and eyes staring into nothing, the more regretful he was becoming in sharing this secret. Newt and Theseus knew, but they were more predictable and had already proven their allegiance to his cause. Aurora was bold, protective and independent – a renegade through and through – she could start a fire with a twig and burn down an entire city if it meant saving the ones she loved, even if she were to get caught in the crossfire.

The girl’s brain was processing everything at one hundred miles an hour, flashing through every memory from each news article read that involved Grindelwald, including the ones regarding Albus and his potential involvement in Gellert’s uprising. Travers had cuffed Albus with Admonitors to watch his every move and his every step, but the day Leta died, Theseus took it upon himself to remove them and offer a formal apology for such treatment on the much-beloved Professor. At no point were Gellert and Albus ever in the same article – heaven forbid the wizarding world learned of their relationship – but it was assumed that Dumbledore took the side of his intended considering he made no effort to join forces against him, at least not to the public eye. Only, he’d been participating in the biggest war yet, and no one even knew.

“What was the promise you both made to create that vow?” her voice was small, guarded.

“That we would never fight each other,” he replied, matching her quiet tone. He realised he couldn’t read her in that moment. “We were to change the world for the better. Muggles would become deferential to wizard-kind – there would be no more war between the two – and this ensured we would, even if one of us had a change of heart,”

“But Gellert hated Muggles, you knew that,” she was trying to make sense of why he had chosen this future for himself. “Did you?”

“I was angry,” Dumbledore crossed his arms cautiously. He hadn’t intended on letting her in this far but she was digging deeper and something about her kindness despite her suspicion willed him to keep sharing. “Muggles were the reason for my father’s incarceration, and the eventual demise of my younger sister.”

Aurora wanted to ask more – her tongue was edging for answers, but she could not bring herself to open old wounds further. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I was in love with him,” Her expression didn’t waver – she’d already reached that conclusion and had accepted it without hesitation, but there was something else lingering behind her eyes. “I was naïve to a cause far greater than anyone could have expected, just as I was arrogant enough to demand perfection from a species that only thrives from faults and failures.”

Her heart ached for Albus – she had heard various stories from his childhood, some assumedly dramatized and untrue, but now understood his protective instincts when a student was struggling, though never had she read into him this far. At no point would he have allowed it, so why now?

“He told me you’d refused his offer,” He was trying to bring her back to him.

Aurora’s eyes settled a little, thoughts calming inside her head at his gentle manner. “He was surprisingly persuasive,” the declaration made her sound weaker now, tired. “Grindelwald told me that I would soon see sense, that I’d earn my right to vote. Said I’d fall to my knees and beg for his forgiveness once I finally realized,”

“And will you, beg?” His voice suddenly held an unusual level of vulnerability.

Aurora met his eyes with an intensity she generally never allowed herself. “Not to him.”

Dumbledore’s lips curled into a reserved smile. Just as he had offered unfavourable information about himself, allowing her to read into him to prove his sincerity, she had just affirmed her loyalty to every part of him.

As the pair made their way back towards the Inn, Aurora was still slightly absent from the moment – thoughts, decisions, memories floating around in her head, all trying to find their place in the situation. Dumbledore had let slip that she did in-fact have a role in this group, but gave no clear indication as to what or how to proceed. Her eyes found his, already watching and waiting – he must have known she’d have questions, but as they neared the building her time had run out so the girl remained silent. Comforting smiles were exchanged as they escaped the cold and re-joined their friends at the bench.

Aurora walked further into the room and watched as Aberforth offered the Qilin calf some warm milk from a carved, wooden bowl, eyeing her dubiously, eyes flittering from hers to the blue scarf hiding the damage. The girl’s brows furrowed in suspicion and narrowed her eyes at him warily – did he know she was injured? Was that how Albus knew? She turned to find the eldest Dumbledore already watching the exchange with curiosity, yet lacking any form of surprise at his brother’s boldness, and deliberating as to how she was about to deal with the situation at hand – confrontation or reservation?

So they both knew, then.

She surrendered.

She huffed an audible sigh of annoyance, just loud enough for the two to hear, and gained on the staircase, ignoring the fleeting glances from her companions as she made her way to the bedroom. Aurora’s purse was sitting perfectly-placed in the middle of the bedspread, the enchantment still holding strong, as she took in her appearance in the mirror, unwinding the scarf to inspect further. What a mess she had truly made of this.

Fifteen minutes had gone by and everyone downstairs had finished their breakfast, had organised a plan and were waiting for Aurora’s return. Though, when no floorboards groaned to indicate any movement, Newt began getting impatient – they had important errands to run, what was she doing?

“Would someone care to remind our dear sister that we are in fact on a time limit?” Theseus quipped sarcastically, though his humorous tone was strained as he glanced at his watch for the third time in five minutes.

“Theseus, Lally, take Mr Kowalski and Miss Broadacre back to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore paused, offering the group some instruction. “Newt and I will collect Aurora and meet you there.”

With a few affirmative nods, Bunty left with the trio leaving just Newt and the professor behind, Jacob’s pleads to walk instead of apparate trailing in the air as they exited the Inn. He instructed the youngest Scamander to ready his case for travel and as the man descended the stairs to his case to return the Qilin and check all was in order, Dumbledore made his way up to Aurora’s room, knocking softly on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It wouldn’t be my brother, I’ll tell you that,” the latch unlocked and Albus entered the room, shutting the door behind him. “The others have returned to the school, we’ll meet them there when you’re-“ he turned to find Aurora perched on the side of her bed with only one arm out of the soiled jumper, face pale and clammy with perspiration. “-ready.”

“I can’t get this sweater off,” the brunette admitted sheepishly, voice quiet as she breathed in deeply as if she was attempting to stay conscious and remain calm. “I didn’t want anyone to see me like this – I don’t enjoy asking for help,”

“Learn to.”

Dumbledore flicked the lock on the door and strode over to where she was sitting, her eyes following him every second, embarrassment tinting her cheeks a pale pink. He gently bunched the stained fabric into his hands and drew them slightly up towards her head, waiting for permission to remove the item completely if she could not do it herself. A few seconds passed as Albus remained still and patient, watching as a war of compliance and disobedience raged on behind her eyes, before she offered a small nod and lowered her head to sink beneath the material. Just as he released her head from the knitted hole she let out a low yelp, right hand grasping his wrist in an attempt to stop him for a moment, and closed her eyes to force the pain to subside. Once the world had stopped spinning quite so much and after a few shaking breaths, she released her grip and he continued slowly, the cotton peeling back down her injured limb until it was discarded on the floor.

The light-coloured vest that lay beneath her sweater was torn and stained dark with blood, the arm strap hanging on by a thread. She watched as Dumbledore took in her condition, his eyes following the black streaks toward the oozing wound below her collarbone. It was deep, and it was open. He rounded to her other side to see if there was anything on her back, and sure enough whatever had caught her had pierced straight through her scapula, though the cotton material was covering most of the damage. Various cuts and grazes littered the rest of her body along with blue bruising across the skin he could currently see.

Albus knelt in front of the girl, catching her eye. “What happened at The Erkstag? I’m assuming this wasn’t one of Newt’s creatures,”

So, Aurora told him everything. The prisoners, the Manticore, Theseus’ escape, the port-key travel to Hogwarts, anything he hadn’t already gathered from her brothers, and he just listened quietly. Once she’d finished and had turned away, he stood tall and gave her some distance – she was in a vulnerable position now as it was, but sharing this information had upset her. Reality was sinking in.

“Aurora,” he started, using her first name to gain attention. “You cannot keep this from them for much longer, I fear you won’t make it to the end of the week if you continue,” he warned.

“What am I supposed to do, Albus? It’s gone too far,” she stood and walked to the mirror to re-examine her injuries. “Whatever was on the stinger has already spread,”

“Do you trust me, Miss Scamander?”

Her eyes caught his blue irises in the reflection, though he didn’t return the glance for he was looking at her wounds from behind. “Whenever people ask me that, I start to question it,” she replied light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Good.”

Dumbledore left Aurora standing at the mirror and exited the room, the door sounding a soft click in the now-silent bedroom.

Chapter Text

Several minutes had passed at which point Aurora had begun to gingerly attempt to clean up some of the dried blood from around the gaping hole, wincing every time she got too close. Though the incessant bleeding had stopped, a vile-looking liquid was still steadily being produced from the wound itself, threatening to stain her trousers as it soaked through the cotton vest-top. Just as she’d managed to clear one small patch, panicked voices and thundering feet gained on her and she drew back quickly to hide herself, Newt storming through the door without hesitation and scouring the room for his sister.

A guise of horror altered his facial expression from angry to afraid at the sight of her. She looked to Dumbledore for help or guidance – he’d asked if she trusted him, but now she wasn’t so sure this had been the right call. As the girl opened her mouth to speak, Newt stepped forward and awkwardly enveloped her in a careful embrace, avoiding her left arm entirely. As he pulled away, a tear rolled down her cheek – she was exhausted.

“I didn’t know what to do-“

“What did you think I was going to say?” he asked, a hint of distress in his tone as he looked at her incredulously. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to hear it from him first,” Newt motioned to Dumbledore standing quietly in front of the closed door.

“There was too much to do, there was no time-“

Her brother was now rifling through his case in search of some items but cut her off before she could finish babbling. “There’s always time,” One final stare before he motioned Albus over to them. “I’ll need your help to hold her down,”

“What?” she asked in alarm. “Newt, I am capable of sitting still for five minutes.”

“It won’t be enough,” He rolled his sleeves up having collected handfuls of potions and ointments.

Albus gained on the pair sceptically, watching as Newt pushed his sister to sit down on the bed. “I can handle the pain,” she pleaded.

The older Scamander was drawing up a syringe full of thick, green liquid, the needle cap held between teeth as his eyes found hers, offering only a quick glance in response to her appeal for restraint before returning to his task. Aurora’s face grew cold – if Newt thought this would hurt then it obviously wasn’t just going to be a sting. He motioned for Albus to sit alongside his sister whilst collecting another item from his briefcase.

Dumbledore sat next to the injured woman and placed his right arm above her left shoulder to hold around the back of her neck, careful to avoid the wounded appendage and enclosed her into his body – an awkward, angled hug to anyone looking on without context. He moved her right arm to wrap around his torso, catching it with his elbow to pin it to his side, preventing her from using the limb or withdrawing from the grasp which left just her chin to rest against his shoulder. Had this been under different circumstances she may have been grateful for the comfort, but the strength Albus was already using to hold her here was unsettling, no-less when Newt reappeared in her line of sight with a piece of cloth to bite into, eyes never quite meeting. Her whole body began to rattle as she trembled, anticipation doing nothing to calm her mind.

Then there was fire.

It erupted in bursts of searing jabs as Newt injected the serum directly into the wound on her back, the sensation burning so quickly that she almost had no time to comprehend the pain which followed. The heat burned her entire body – trailing from her spine, along her shoulders and towards her neck – it felt as though it had been scorching for an eternity and would never end. Her muscles objected, every thought conveying their desperate escape from this assault as she attempted to free herself from Albus’ restraint, fingers digging into his coat for something to ground herself with.

His strength never wavered, only increased as he maintained his embrace on her body and held her still, the torturous liquid still being fed directly into her system and attacking the venomous cells that were slowly killing the host. A scream threatened to erupt from behind the cloth as Aurora’s adrenaline peaked, teeth clamping down tightly against the fabric. She could no longer hear the soothing voices of her captor and his assailant as they attempted to calm her, hearts breaking at the girl’s muffled, agonal cries and desperate struggle, for there was just a high-pitched ringing in her ears.

Then only silence.

Aurora’s body had given up on the attack – too exhausted to fight any longer – and she lay limp in Dumbledore’s arms. This, thankfully, enabled Newt to infuse the second vial of antidote without much resistance other than a momentary reflex, and he was able to apply a coating of thick, yellow paste onto the laceration before covering it with a layer of gauze. The green liquid was running rampant through her system – the web of black lines fading with every passing minute as it destroyed the damaged cells to leave room for repair with only patches of scarring left in its wake.

“I must say,” Newt started, relieved that the struggling had stopped and Aurora had succumbed to unconsciousness. “I am surprised she lasted as long as she did.”

“What makes you say that?” Albus readjusted her position now that she had relaxed into him to prevent her from collapsing entirely.

“I have seen grown men fall quicker for a lot less.”

One final injection into the muscle of her upper arm and they were laying her back on the bed, Newt needing to treat the front of the wound as well. The professor had risen to his feet now, standing a few metres away to watch his ex-student work – the knowledge this man held was incomprehensible, and yet he never bragged or boasted, only helped where needed. And for that, he was often treated as an outcast.

Aurora was lifeless and pale, though her chest rose and fell with every breath – this being the only visible sign of life. Her body had been put through too much stress and was now attacking itself. The older Scamander covered her open wound with the same ointment and gauze before wrapping a bandage around her ribcage, shoulders and arm, fashioning a make-shift sling with another cut of cotton to keep the appendage still. If they were lucky, those wounds would be healed in a day or two thanks to the medicines, but that still left the open-fracture of her scapula to repair. If Newt could find a spell for bone regrowth then she’d have no need for the sling, but until then they needed to give that limb every chance of mending on its own.

Ten minutes had passed before there was any sign of movement from the girl – just one twitch of the finger but that was enough to inform the men of her awakening. Newt had been pacing back and forth in worry – he’d finished the treatment a little while ago now yet she still hadn’t risen – but Dumbledore stood coolly, hip leant against the dresser to wait it out.

“How quickly will she wake?”

“Hard to say,” he eyed his sister dubiously. “It could be a few seconds, it could be a minute,” He was twirling a small, liquid vial in his hand in preparation of an outburst.

As if sensing their concerns, Aurora’s eyes shot open in panic, breaths turning ragged and she endeavoured to launch herself from the bed into a defensive stance. Upon tensing her upper body to stand, raising a leg off the bed, she let out a broken groan and was suddenly forced back into the mattress by two pairs of hands. Newt had taken her weaker side in an attempt to restrict the injured appendage, accidentally pressing down on an abdominal bruise as his hand sought restraint, whilst Albus had pushed her leg back into the sheets with a hand on her thigh and one on her unharmed shoulder.

Hands fastened on her limbs, Newt slipped the calming draught into her open mouth just as she let out another noise of complaint and clamped his hand over her lips, sealing it shut until she swallowed. Within a few seconds her thrashing had ceased, though her eyes were still dancing around the room in dazed confusion, and he started trying to draw her attention back to him by speaking softly. As her heart rate reduced, so did the restrictive grasps, though Dumbledore’s hand remained on her thigh to ground her, and Newt held onto the girl’s hand. Aurora finally released a steady breath and closed her eyes for a moment – regaining composure and attempting to make sense of what had happened.

“How is the pain?” Newt asked tentatively.

She sighed in relief, hand landing on top of Albus’ in thanks. “Better,”

“Good.”

They helped her sit up, laying various pillows at the bed’s headboard to enable her to stay upright without straining. The Magizoologist began to explain what had happened with the Manticore sting and how it became so dangerous, expanding on the fact that it required immediate medical treatment and shouldn’t have been left so long – Aurora turned away at the subtle chastisement. Dumbledore reminded the duo of the agenda for today, and their friends of whom would be waiting anxiously at Hogwarts by now. The two men stood to exit the room and say their goodbyes, only turning back when Aurora made of noise of discomfort as she had attempted to follow.

“You need to stay here and rest,” Dumbledore stated. “We’ll be back for you this evening,”

“I want to come with you,” she requested, a hopeful glint in her eyes. She could brave this to join them, she just needed to get up and–

“Tomorrow.”

And with that, both Newt and Albus left the room, leaving no space for argument, so Aurora settled back into the pillows disappointed. There wasn’t much more she could do for her friends whilst in this condition so she may as well rest up – the quicker she healed, the better for everyone – and within a few minutes the girl had fallen into a light slumber.

When she finally woke a few hours later the sun was lower in the sky, cascading numerous rays of light through the old window panes, even hitting the mirror on the dresser and refracting the beam to the aged wardrobe. Aurora was unsure as to how much time had passed, but the position of the sun meant it should have been early-afternoon, though admittedly she hadn’t paid much attention to those Astronomy lectures. Taking a moment to relish in the comfort of the feather-filled pillows, she realised the burning had subsided to merely a sting and thankfully that was far more manageable!

Gingerly, the brunette arose, legs shaking with the effort of how slow she was moving to prevent any shocks of pain, and made her way to the mirror. She hadn’t taken a look since Newt had burst through the door, but now all that remained were the initial puncture wounds and torn flesh as well as the web of lines which had turned a deep pink, still standing out against the pallor of her skin but less-so than when they were black. She’d hoped they wouldn’t remain this obvious, but supposed if Albus had scars not dissimilar and hadn’t feared them, perhaps she would grow accustomed, too.

The vest-top that she’d been wearing beneath her damaged sweater had been cut from her body, leaving the girl in only brazier and trousers, though mercifully Newt had managed to wind the bandages below the straps without revealing her naked chest to anyone in the room. Sure enough, they were all adults, but something didn’t feel quite right about showing that level of vulnerability whilst under the influence of searing pain and open wounds, especially around the likes of her older brother. Staring at the tattered, stained jumper crumpled in a pile, Aurora contemplated leaving it but decided to try and repair the material as the cold began seeping into her bones from the draught.

Producing a quick Scourgify charm, the blood stains began fading, its usual colours returning brighter than before and another spell, Reparo, had the threads quickly needling themselves back together, any evidence of previous harm disappearing before her eyes. It wasn’t a common occurrence that she could use wandless magic, only ever on minor spells such as these, but she found it awfully helpful in situations that needed to be handled with subtlety, especially when working in the Department of Muggle Relations.

Sliding the newly repaired item of clothing over her head, she drew her right arm through the sleeve and pulled the remaining cotton to cover her injured appendage, ensuring the sling was sitting comfortably beneath. Her sock-clad feet padded softly to the door, the floorboards barely creaking beneath her weight, and walked tentatively down the staircase toward the unlit fireplace, slouching in the familiar armchair and casting an Incendio spell to ignite the logs. The heat immediately soothed her shivering form, spreading rapidly around the room and sharing an ethereal glow to aged oak furniture.

“Feeling better?” A nervous voice to the left interrupted her hypnotised gaze on the flames, eyes searching for its owner.

Aberforth was standing a few feet from the chair, a fresh cup of pumpkin juice held in his outstretched hand, anxious eyes flittering from Aurora’s to the beverage withheld and back. She was dumbfounded for a moment at his sudden kindness, a slither of suspicion rearing its head before calming as she accepted the gesture with a smile.

“Did Albus tell you?” She enquired quietly.

“No,” An eyebrow quirked at him in confusion as the man perched on the opposite seat. “I saw,” Aurora nodded sheepishly, looking back to the fire to avoid another potential chastisement. None came. “What was it?”

“A Manticore.”

“You’re lucky to be alive, aren’t you?” She only offered a blank stare in his direction as a response. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t feel that way right now,” he offered, attempting to make a light-hearted notion to ease her distress.

As Aberforth finished his sentence, a cascade of haunted whispering filled the room once more, its sharp tongue interrupting their contact. Eyes locked in momentary bewilderment and denial before Aurora’s made its way to the mirror, and sure enough, written between a layer of condensation were the words ‘I want to come home’. Once the hissing had ceased, she looked back to the youngest Dumbledore, though he did not return her gaze, only staring regretfully at the reflection.

“Who are they?” she asked, her voice soft, compassionate. She knew he had a temper and didn’t want to bring it forward.

The man just lowered his head into his open palms, shoulders sagging – he looked tired now. “It’s a long story, there’s a lot you don’t know,”

“I have time,” she suggested, offering a gentle hand on his shoulder. His harsh resolve was crumbling fast. “If you had wanted, of course.”

So, he did. For the first time in many years, Aberforth spoke honestly about anything that had ever happened, from Ariana’s death to the lady of whom he fell in love with but broke off all relations after losing his sister and going into hiding.

He told her about Credence. He told her about everything.

Chapter Text

The penny dropped.

As did Jacob Kowalski when he came stumbling through the fireplace in a burst of green flames, landing on his hands and knees at Aberforth’s feet with a thud. For a moment nobody spoke, stunned expressions passing between each other until the youngest Dumbledore stood, offered Aurora a small nod and walked away from the scene mumbling something about muggles and incompetence.

“Are we still not a fanatic for port-key travel, Jacob?” she snickered, though her eyes were soft and kind.

The muggle clambered into the previously occupied armchair with a sigh. “Does the nausea ever wear off? I feel like I’m spinning for hours and then just get dumped somewhere. It’s embarrassing,”

“I can’t say I know much about the side-effects of no-mag teleportation, but it wore off eventually for us wizarding kind. It’s the quickest way to get around!” she chirped in response.

It wasn’t until Jacob’s stomach had stopped churning and he’d rubbed his face to rid the dizziness that he honed-in on Aurora’s injured appendage, a look of concern growing. Aurora just sat quietly, watching as he pointed at her and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out – instead he shut it again, head tilted and waved at it in exasperation. When she didn’t offer an explanation, merely a blank stare, words finally formed on his tongue.

“Are you kidding? Please tell me this is just something minor, something Newt can fix when he gets back?”

“It should be healed within a few days but my brother needs to find a spell to repair some of the damage,” she offered, a tight-lipped smile gracing her features. She didn’t want to go into detail right now, it was getting late and the pain was rearing its head once more, though she was sure Newt could offer an explanation once he’d talked Theseus down. He, too, was yet to see her condition.

“Well, uh, that’s good,” he stuttered awkwardly, clearing his throat before changing the subject. “What do you think he’ll serve for supper tonight?” Jacob asked quietly, motioning to Aberforth behind the bar of whom was currently cleaning glasses with a cloth and glaring at the muggle as he did so. It was rather disconcerting if he was to be honest with himself.

“Whatever it is, I am positive it will be a delicious, wholesome meal,” she proposed, glancing to where Mr Kowalski seemed to be staring nervously and smiling in amusement at the youngest Dumbledore’s intolerant expression. “Or he may poison us all for the inconvenience,” she joked.

Jacob’s only response was the raising of his brows in disbelief of her jest.

They continued to converse, speaking of the muggle’s misadventures of the day, up to the point at which he had fallen through the fireplace. Newt had advised him to return to the Inn to check on Aurora though hadn’t offered any prior warning of her condition which clarified the look of horror on the muggle’s face upon realising. As it turns out, the group had split up to gain inside-intel on Grindelwald’s plans which was why Yusef had not returned since their meeting on the train, and why Jacob’s face was now plastered over most of the daily newspapers. The title ‘Murderous Muggle!’ in bold, capital letters, combined with the terrified look on his face and the inaccurate description of events caused Aurora to let out a series of giggles, each getting louder until she could hardly breathe and her shoulder ached. Jacob’s anxieties seemed to settle after hearing the girl’s laughter as he, too, joined in mockery of the article.

As they calmed, Jacob subtly produced a miscellaneous white bag of sweets from his inside coat pocket, stretching out his arm to offer one. Aurora’s eyes narrowed at him suspiciously after a glance at its contents.

“Do you know what those are?” she asked.

“Do you know what these are?” he parroted back, a playful glint in his expression.

“I do,”

“Well, I do too,”

“Where did you get them from?” she was curious now – how had he managed to get to Honeydukes between aiding Dumbledore and being an apparent assassin?

“Couple of Slytherins gave them to me,” he shrugged nonchalantly, shaking the paper bag as if to entice her.

“Of course they did,” she chuckled lightly with a roll of her eyes. “Want to pop them in the bin then?”

The muggle nodded with a slightly sullen look – he hadn’t even been able to trick her into eating one, let alone anyone else. The rolled-up ball was launched into the metal can sitting alongside the fireplace with a satisfying clink as his attempted accuracy paid off, pleasantly surprising them both.

Minutes after Jacob had retreated to the sanctity of his temporary accommodation, Theseus stormed through the front door with a look of anger on his face, eyes scanning the room rapidly for something and settling on his younger sister currently perched at the bar. She looked like a deer in headlights and had stopped talking to Aberforth mid-way through her sentence. The youngest Dumbledore had turned rigid, his height towering over Aurora but meeting Theseus eye-to-eye, displeased at the sudden outburst in his home. Still, the elder stalked over to her without saying a word.

“Newt!” she yelled out panicked, expecting him to bumble through the door straight after, yet he didn’t.

“He can’t help you,” he sneered. Though his expression was irate, there was a sense of upset lingering.

“Newt!”

“I tried to explain-“ Finally, the stuttering wizard entered the room with Lally and Albus close behind but was cut-short by Theseus.

“Newt told me everything,” He started, interrupting. “How you forged a passkey, used your position in the Ministry to gain access, risked your life, all of our lives,” he motioned to not only himself but Newt too.

“And you failed to inform us you were injured in the first place,” he was shaking his head in disbelief. “How could you be so foolish?”

“Theseus-“ The oldest Dumbledore warned and began to step toward them.

He hadn’t wanted to intervene in their family affairs, but there was a time and a place – both of which were not here nor now. His caution was blatantly ignored.

“I thought mother had taught you better than that,” her face fell at those very words. It hurt. “You could have died,”

“And so could you!” she roared back at him suddenly, flashes of anger igniting her hazel eyes as she leapt off the stool and was face-to-face with him in merely a moment. “You are the man of the house now that father is dead, Newt won’t take the responsibility, and I cannot,”

The ache in her arm had increased tenfold, only encouraging her anger to the surface to cover the pain with adrenaline. The entire room was silent at Aurora’s outburst – everyone seemed shocked that there was such a burning rage in her system considering the never-ending kindness she displayed. Theseus’ hands slowly raised in the air as a peace offering to pacify the situation.

“Aurora, I didn’t mean-“

“I am not finished!” She leered dangerously up at her sibling, all reprieve dissipating in the fire within.

“Because of you, no one else could achieve such excellence and success in the eyes of our guardians, so we were left to fight for our own chances to live life as we saw fit,” He took a step back in surrender and allowed her to continue.

“Newt was expelled purely for being someone so noble that he took the fall for a costly mistake made by someone else, whilst you graduated with the highest honours and left us for the Ministry. I never wanted this job, but I was forced to follow you because I couldn’t watch him be punished for a crime he did not commit.” She motioned to Newt. “I needed to keep him safe, the same way I wanted to keep you safe!”

“So, don’t you dare say that mother should have taught me differently because this was all me. This was my choice and you cannot take it away.”

A few moments of silence, bar the girl’s exasperated breathing, passed before Theseus attempted to speak again.

“You could have died,” He pleaded with her to understand, surprising Aurora with the sudden fragility and vulnerability lacing his words. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

His admission caused Aurora’s tongue to catch in her throat. Theseus’ anger had been depicted not only from her injured state or the lack of honesty, but from losing his fiancée a few years prior when he had failed to protect her then, too. He’d felt as though there was already one death of a beloved on his hands, there was not to be another. Suddenly, no more words could be spoken and the anger dissipated as quickly as it had arisen.

“Aurora,” Newt’s gentle voice broke through the tense atmosphere, quietly drawing the girl’s attention back to him instead of his brother. “Professor Hicks knows of a spell for bone regeneration.”

It took a second for her mind to register his words, nervous eyes transferring to Lally’s of whom returned an encouraging smile, the girl in slight disbelief that it could even be done. The charms professor pointed in the direction of the armchairs – a request to move out of the bar and away from the remaining group – and she followed obediently, ignoring her eldest brother as they passed. Aurora’s walls were building back up and she was reining in the emotions that had escaped unexpectantly. She needed to calm down and think.

As Lally proceeded to repair the damage to Miss Scamander’s scapula, they shared a brief bout of small talk to distract her from the discomfort of the spell and the earlier conflict. Apparently, Dumbledore had made several plans for the choosing ceremony but only offered minimal information regarding either one in order to prevent Grindelwald from pre-planning using his foresight. Assumptions were made by the eldest Dumbledore and Newt that the Qilin in Gellert’s possession had likely been killed in an attempt to gain this power, but they would only know for sure once at the site of voting.

Once the appendage had been healed and everyone had eaten another round of Aberforth’s stew – looking as repellent as the first night but tasting wonderful, regardless – all moved to their temporary living quarters for some rest. In the morning, they were to meet Dumbledore at Hogwarts and begin their journey to the mountains of Bhutan for the election, though there was expected to be a few altercations on the way which the majority of the group had been prepared for. Upon entering her room, however, another set of steps followed closely behind and proceeded to shut the door behind them.

“Albus, what are you-“

“I am sorry for barging in, but now is our only chance to discuss something in private,” he defended in a hushed voice, a sigh escaping his lips.

“What is it?”

“I know you are an Animagus,” she opened her mouth to protest but he did not allow. “And I know that is why Gellert wanted you on his side. If your brother and I’s suspicions are true, Grindelwald has taken the Qilin calf’s life to sample its power of foresight, but he could well have bewitched the corpse also.”

Aurora was hesitant for a moment – she knew she had scared off a few bullies at Hogwarts using her transfiguration skills but was not aware that anyone knew it had been her. From what she could recall, the girl had been relatively reserved in sharing this secret with anyone else – only Leta had needed her aid in a non-human form, hence Lestrange’s knowledge of such abilities. But she was gone now, and these powers had long-since remained unused.

“I don’t understand,” the brunette began. “How did you know that? I didn’t share it with anyone, and I was rather unhappy with Grindelwald’s assumptions on such matters too,”

“Hogwarts holds a registry of all known Animagi and Metamorphmagus, students and professors alike, that set foot on the grounds. This includes when that charm is used by an under-aged witch or wizard in the courtyard,” his brow raised in a soft reprimand, her cheeks reddening slightly at being unknowingly caught out. “One of Grindelwald’s insiders gained access to this registry through the Ministry, leading them to target you in particular because of your family’s involvement with myself.”

“That would explain his knowledge on the matter and the softer approach to forging an alliance, I suppose. But I was never punished for doing any of that back then, even if I was under-aged?”

“Between McGonagall and myself, we decided to treat those occasions with discretion based on the user’s motives and timings. From what we understood at that point, you had been protecting a fellow student from being ostracised and troubled by others, despite the repercussions of which could have been pointed directly to you,”

“Okay, so you know, and so does he,” she admitted and waved her hands lightly as an indication to continue his original point. “What now?”

“You must be vigilant tomorrow, we cannot allow anything, or anyone, to be put in harm’s way or slip through our fingers,” he warned, expression losing its humour, now serious. “We finish our designated duties, we do not risk our lives unnecessarily, and we ask for help if it is needed, do we have an understanding?”

Aurora nodded quietly, keeping her mouth shut, but Dumbledore could see there was a hesitancy behind her eyes – a question left unanswered. He knew if he waited long enough she would blurt it out, so he stood patiently, watching as thoughts stewed in her mind. Sure enough, her tongue could no longer be restrained and she spoke quickly.

“Albus, if something happens, if something goes wrong that is beyond our control,” her eyes were desperately pleading with his dark expression to understand. “what do we do?”

“Find me.”

He knew what she was asking, but he also needed Aurora to place her trust in him before Grindelwald could make a last-ditch attempt to convert the girl to his cause. The eldest Dumbledore was aware that he could not protect her if she was under Gellert’s control without threatening the blood pact and risking his existence. But with that, he left her room as quietly as he’d entered to avoid disturbing the remaining group in their accommodation down the hall.
They all needed to be rested for what was to come.

Chapter Text

As the sun arose over the hillside, casting striking rays of light through the cracks of the boards covering glass panes, it was a swift warning that morning had broken and today was the elections for a new leader of the wizarding world. Many remained still, unable to drag themselves from the comfort that the woollen sheets provided in fear that when they returned, Grindelwald would have won the poll and already made advances towards muggle submission or extinction. All too soon, however, it was time to face reality and begin the final leg of their assignment, regardless of the overall outcome.

The group were to converge with Dumbledore at Hogwarts in order to discuss any remaining queries and then make their way to Bhutan individually – this was the safest option to prevent mass capture and allow everyone to remain under the radar of Grindelwald’s associates where possible. They were not yet certain as to how many allies Gellert had made since their last interaction but there was bound to be significantly more than before, now that he was the third party’s candidate. Whatever was to happen today would shape both the wizarding and muggle worlds for eternity, good or bad.

The balls of Aurora’s feet made contact with the chilled floor boards, her body resting on the side of the bed for a moment whilst her mind raced with possibilities. She stretched out her arms, the previously injured shoulder creaking with the effort but not offering any source of pain, then began readying herself with quiet steps to avoid waking the other residents. Albus’ scarf caught her eye - it still clung loosely to the golden hook on the back of the door having not yet been returned to its owner. A fleeting smile crossed her lips briefly at the sight of the material before snatching it up and laying it delicately around her neck, pacing out of the room on her tiptoes, winter boots in hand, to tie them downstairs where all was quiet.

Upon reaching the final step, Aurora’s eyes connected with those of both her siblings. Only Newt’s head and torso could be seen as the remainder of his body was halfway inside his case whilst Theseus cradled the Qilin calf delicately in his arms, passing the creature over to his younger brother. Though it felt wrong, the worn leather case was currently the safest area for the Qilin to remain alongside a multitude of other rare magical creatures, at least until the threat of Grindelwald had been removed.

As Newt descended the ladder to the base, disappearing from sight, Theseus and Aurora shared a knowing glance – there was a sense of tension releasing between them though it was not quite forgiveness on either’s behalf. As the girl looked away, busying herself with pulling on her boots and tying the laces, Theseus continued to watch her movements – eyes scanning the scarf questionably – until his younger brother reappeared. The trio gathered their coats and exited the ramshackle Inn with not a word shared between them.

Newt Scamander’s presence was requested by Albus once they’d apparated outside the Great Hall in Hogwarts. Bunty had kindly taken Newt’s briefcase to allow the pair to discuss something in private, having already been waiting for their arrival, and upon the Professor’s declaration had disappeared with it shortly after, leaving Theseus and Aurora to see to themselves. The older, of course, found chatting with his ex-professors easy to come by as they appeared rather interested to know how he had become head of the British Aura Office and what his roles were. The various letters sent from her brother over the years meant she already knew the story; the brave war hero, once again, finding himself amidst a fight for muggle’s rights and existence beneath an untrustworthy leader. It was almost laughable how well-respected he was, and then there was the two youngest siblings – an unconventional Magizoologist with a major lack in social skills, but adored by the great Dumbledore himself, and the girl no one really bothered to know. While she was no hero, she also wasn’t mysterious enough for people to look into her further which therefore meant being able to fly under the radar.

The brunette had settled herself on the end of the bench to pick at the breakfast food whilst the remaining students continued to fill their stomachs and chat about various topics. Occasionally, her ears would pick up some strained opinions of today’s Ministry politics, otherwise the conversations primarily consisted of the Quidditch Cup, any upcoming school trips or the assignments they’d been given that, unsurprisingly, most of them had yet to start despite the looming due-date. Though she hadn’t particularly been ostracized as a student, she wasn’t very popular considering her blood relatives and the company kept via Leta Lestrange. Similarly, it didn’t help that she couldn’t stand for bullying, but in a school where the terms mudblood and pureblood were used to distinguish dirty blood from those assumed to be more regal, it was hard to keep out of trouble and ignore the passing comments.

Aurora had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed any of the others approaching, not until Jacob lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and she let out a yelp of surprise, a few surrounding students erupting into fits of laughter at her expense. A red hue rose to her cheeks as she smiled apologetically at the muggle before turning her attention to the others that were waiting just outside the large, open doors, chatting amongst themselves. Once the two had re-joined the group, they walked through various familiar corridors with Albus and Newt leading, Jacob taking in as many details as possible.

“Oi! You’re no wizard! What you doing here?” One of the old paintings hollered a gruff to the muggle, disgust written across his pastel-drawn face. He was glaring down, scorched eyes following everyone as they walked past.

“Arnold, shush! Nobody wants to hear your filth,” one of the female creations a few frames down chastised, posh tone of voice sounding rather motherly under the circumstances. “I do apologise for him, he doesn’t get out much anymore. Just sits there, sulking.”

Having only just discovered that the paintings could in fact communicate and transfer themselves from one canvas to another, Jacob withheld his distress to share a small nod and a forced smile of thanks to the lady before hurrying to catch up to Newt. As Aurora passed the offending character forever immortalized in a picture, she narrowed her eyes, sending the best warning glare that she could currently muster. Albus momentarily caught sight of this act and as she turned to face forward again, feeling the warmth of someone’s gaze, a glint lit up the blue irises and his lips quirked to one side in amusement. He dropped it quickly after she returned a subtle, sheepish smile, bowing her head to feign ignorance and continued on.

Inky-black lines seemingly grew from random cracks in the stone, climbing the archway like poison ivy until they reached their peak, outlining a previously hidden doorway. The wooden panels appeared old, yet the iron structures glistened in the light as if new paint had been applied, though this had to be impossible considering they had just appeared from nowhere. The muggle took note that none of the other members were reducing their pace toward this closed door until the barriers slowly started to swing open, on their own accord, to allow entry.

The room opened up to a huge, empty hall with various floating marble pillars to maintain the weight of the concrete ceiling. The walls stretched so far that the lack of lighting meant the opposite sides were consumed by darkness, the air remaining quiet and still until Bunty brought their attention back to herself, having been anticipating their arrival. Surrounding the smaller woman was six identical briefcases, none seeming to differ from the other, and behind her was a large, golden cylindrical object suspended in the air carved with a mosaic of all kinds of creatures.

The stone tiles clinked with the sound of shoes delving further inside.

“Hey, Newt?” Jacob whispered as if trying not to disturb the peace. “What is this place?”

“The room we require,” he answered softly, watching as his friend attempted to take everything in and then offered a smile to his assistant.

Theseus’ confident façade was slipping as his eyes roamed every inch of the chamber suspiciously. He was incredulous. How had such a thing existed in a school he attended and he hadn’t known anything about it? Surely, the Ministry should hold records or blueprints of the Hogwarts’ layout, including any secret passages or disappearing rooms discovered over the years, otherwise this had to be an expansion charm. The eldest Scamander could not believe that his little brother knew about this and hadn’t informed him, but even-more-so when he glanced to his sister to see the lack of surprise on her features too.

“How do the both of you know about this place?” Theseus probed, his tone accusatory.

Newt glanced to Aurora sheepishly, pleading for her help in navigating this situation. “Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who need it,” She replied earnestly, reciting the familiar words once spoken to her by Dumbledore when she was a student and wanting to give up everything.

“So, with that in mind, why was I never shown this? It would appear that even the Ministry are unaware of its existence, perhaps they should be informed?” he inquired sceptically.

She turned to him then, eyes harsh and unyielding. “What could it provide that you didn’t already have?”

His brows furrowed in turmoil and the room silenced once more as if everyone within it was holding their breath, just waiting for an outburst. Glancing from one face to another, it appeared that no one else shared Theseus’ conflicts and instead held a mutual understanding as to why this may have been necessary for the youngest Scamanders. When his eyes landed on the great Professor, all that he offered was a pitiful look of contempt indicating the elder probably should have read deeper into the meaning of Aurora’s words before speaking. It was too late for that now – the opportunity had passed.

Shaking his head, Albus paced further towards Bunty and started to put on his gloves, eyes scanning the group before interrupting the tension.

“I trust you all have the tickets that Bunty gave you?” he enquired, face losing the apprehensive look as the subject matter changed. “You’ll need them to gain access to the ceremony. What do you think, Newt?” he asked curiously, stepping beside his friend. “Can you tell which one is yours?”

In a moment of horrific realisation, Newt’s eyes bore into Bunty’s, desperately trying to seek a hint of any kind. She offered none. “No,” he responded solemnly, anxiety now raiding his system as he shuffled nervously on his feet.

“Good, I’d be worried if you could!”

“I assume the Qilin is in one of these cases?” Lally’s voice piped up amongst the unsettled silence and a nod from Dumbledore confirmed her theory. “Well, which one is it?”

“Which one indeed,” he responded slyly, a small smirk gracing his features.

“Oh, it’s like a Three-Card-Monte thing! Like a shell-game thing, like a short con?” Jacob added confidently, encouraged that he could finally participate in the conversation but when no one spoke, he waved off everyone’s confused glances. “Never mind, it’s a Muggle thing,”

The Professor smiled softly at the muggle, intrigued by this proposition of a similar game played amongst those without magic. Having worked in the Muggle Relations department, Aurora had learnt of such entertainment through various news articles and her own experiences with the non-wizards and relished in the memory of anticipation upon searching for the item.

“Grindelwald will do anything within his powers to get his hands on our rare friend. Therefore, it is essential that we keep whomever he dispatches on his behalf guessing so that the Qilin gets to the ceremony safely.” He paused, cutting through the middle of the group and placing his hat upon his head. “If by teatime the Qilin, not to mention all of us, are still alive, we should consider our efforts a success.”

“Just for the record,” Jacob interrupted. “Nobody ever died playing Three-Card-Monte.”

This caused Aurora to let out a quiet chuckle as she placed her hand on his shoulder, smiling reassuringly at him.

“An important distinction!” Dumbledore joined in on the humour, wrapping the blue chequered scarf around his shoulders. “Alright, everybody chooses a case and we’ll be on our way. Mr Kowalski, Miss Scamander, we will proceed together first.”

A thread of fear quickly wormed its way into the girl’s thoughts and she glanced back to Newt unnerved, searching for any kind of reassurance. Generally, it would be her offering the encouragement, especially considering Newt frequently found traversing the world rather difficult with his lack of social skills, but this time the feeling was mutual. Whilst he was usually against any form of eye-contact, he met her expression with one similar and they gave each other a moment of silent communication until she broke the stare to pick out a briefcase.

As the brunette and the muggle both descended the steps and leaned down to pick a case, a quiet but dismissive clearing of the throat reclaimed their attention. Dumbledore was looking at Jacob seriously and shook his head with subtle movements, persuading him to choose another case – this left Aurora a little dumbfounded as to whether her choice had been correct or not. Not knowing what else to do, she remained standing over the briefcase to await any confirmation, and once Mr Kowalski had chosen another, Albus presented her with a furtive smile before turning back to the cylindrical object which had begun to spin.

“I’m looking forward to you educating me a little further on the finer points of Three-Card-Monte,” He entertained, a playful grin persuading the muggle to trust that he did not find him tiring or incompetent for not having magic, and reached out a hand for him to take.

When he turned to face Aurora, there was a notion of doubt lingering in the hazel of her eyes as she grasped onto the case’s handle with white knuckles. Offering his remaining hand, watching as she looked from his face to the black glove, Dumbledore patiently gave her a second to collect her thoughts. When he felt her shy, dainty hand connect with his, he thread their fingers gently and stepped back into the portal, dragging his companions out of Hogwarts and onto the streets of Bhutan.

Wishing each other good luck, Bunty watched as Newt quickly drew the case that Dumbledore had refused Jacob into his chest and ran into the portal. If Albus didn’t want Jacob to have it, that must have meant this one had the Qilin inside, right?

Chapter Text

As hundreds of wizard-kind made their journey over broken cobbled streets, walking up weathered concrete steps to the ancient monument, Anton Vogel had brought to attention the importance of the day’s election to the current bystander’s at his post. Red, green and yellow cotton banners swung loosely in the wind, highlighting the electoral candidate’s identities as a matter of good faith and personal beliefs.

“It is not lost on those of us in leadership that we are currently a world divided. Each day brings talk of another conspiracy, each hour another dark whisper,” His eyes scanned the audience with a well-practised act of a downtrodden expression. “These whispers have only increased in recent days with the addition of a third candidate, but there is only one way to leave absolutely no doubt that a worthy candidate exists amongst the three you have been presented.”

Turning his back to the crowd, coat flaring dramatically in the breeze, Anton stepped into the darkened doorway without another word. He needed to maintain the intrigue of those around him in order to gain their trust and reduce suspicion of his, and the Ministry’s, motives. Hushed whispers spread like wildfire, filling the void with avid curiosity as members of the public inched forward for a closer look to where their Prime Minister had walked.

Gasps and awes broke the quiet tension as Anton returned, the tiny Qilin calf bundled securely into his arms, seeming to cuddle closer to the warmth of his coat. Vogel returned to his place at the head of the crowd, a hint of smugness and pride lingering in his eyes at the bewilderment of his viewers as they looked on in astonishment

“As every schoolboy and girl knows, the Qilin is the purest of creatures in our wonderful, magical world. It cannot be deceived. Let the Qilin unite us.”

The group had split themselves into multiple strings in the hopes of worming their way past Grindelwald’s foresight; Newt and Bunty traversing the winding streets of Bhutan alone whilst Lally and Theseus covered ground either side of the mortar housing, leaving just Aurora and Jacob to tail Dumbledore. Loud voices from countless followers echoed through every passage, shouts and hollers masking chants and song as witches and wizards made their way to the stairway that ascended the Bhutan Monastery.

Albus, Jacob and Aurora had merged with the crowd, positions masked slightly by a large, yellow Vicencia Santos banner held by two of the candidate’s supporters. They had been teleported to a secluded back alley and were able to slip into the steadily flowing stream of wizards relatively unscathed, although Jacob had clasped a hand around Aurora’s arm in a momentary strike of fear that he would be separated and therefore lost to the sea of humanity. Though they walked with a sense of calm, the trio had their wits about them after spying some of Grindelwald’s scouts navigating the rooftops, assumedly looking for any sign of trouble which unfortunately included everyone on the professor’s side.

Too focused on keeping her face forward to avoid suspicion from the eyes above, Aurora hadn’t taken note of the henchmen gaining from behind. Thankfully, though, somebody else had. An arm curled its way loosely around her back, the girl’s body tensing in surprise as a weight at her side caused her to alter course until she’d turned ninety degrees to the right. A momentary glance to her left, meeting Dumbledore’s fleeting look, told her everything she needed to know as Jacob, too, was dragged into a side street away from the masses.

As their pace increased, both Aurora and Jacob’s holds on their cases tightened protectively – they still weren’t sure which of the six had held the Qilin, but on the off-chance it was theirs, they would not let them go without a fight. Left, right, another right and two more lefts led them to a cross-section of the alleyway. Albus, without warning, quickly apparated them all to another location barely thirty metres from before, allowing them to watch with satisfaction as the cloaked men stumbled upon only each other once more, frustration staining their cheeks red.

Leading the way, the professor slid swiftly around one corner and leant against the stone bricks with his hands clasped together as he heaved a sigh of relief. The muggle and the witch were quick to follow, choosing the opposing wall to grace their momentary rest as they attempted to slow their speeding heartrates.

“Where to, next?” Jacob asked, his tone barely above a whisper.

As if suddenly remembering they had accompanied him, Dumbledore turned to the pair across the alley. “Oh, this is where I leave you,”

“I’m sorry, you’re what?” the smaller man asked incredulously. “You’re leaving us?”

Pulling the blue chequered scarf from around his neck and folding it, Albus continued, “I have to meet someone else, Mr Kowalski. But not to worry, you’ll be perfectly safe,” with that, he threw the material at an open doorway, the cotton falling delicately as if a curtain to hide the muggle’s whereabouts.

“What about the cases?” He worried, holding up his own and motioning to Aurora’s, of whom had been observing their interaction quietly.

“You don’t have the Qilin. Feel free to drop the case at the first hint of trouble,” he encouraged, a gentle smile gracing his features. “As for you, Miss Scamander, we will be leaving Mr Kowalski here.”

Aurora’s eyes moved from Albus to Jacob in hesitation, a silent question appearing on her face to confirm whether the muggle felt safe enough to be alone, but one small nod established his newfound confidence now that the Qilin was not at risk in his possession. Aurora squeezed his arm gently, offering a comforting smile, before walking to Dumbledore’s side to await further instruction.

“One other thing, if you don’t mind me saying,” Albus paused halfway up the steps to address Jacob one last time. “You should stop doubting yourself – you have something most men go their entire lives without, do you know what that is?” No answer came, so he continued. “A heart that is full. Only a truly brave man could open himself up so honestly and completely, as you do.”

With that, Dumbledore took Aurora’s hand and they disappeared in a sudden whirlwind of colour.

Two pairs of shoes hit the ground a little roughly, the duo taking a moment to survey their surroundings, before making their way forwards again. The girl wasn’t sure where they were headed – the echoes of chanting and shouting rattling from every direction – and had wanted to ask, though she knew if there was any chance Grindelwald could catch onto whatever Albus was planning, it was better if she remain in the dark despite the unease it caused. She didn’t like this – it felt as though she were running straight into battle blindfolded.

A swishing sound cut through the roars of the supporters, bricks nearby crumbling, before a Quidditch bludger soared across the rooftops, taking out two scouts and sending them tumbling to the ground below. Her brows furrowed in confusion and mild disbelief at what she had just seen, until a small, growling, fur-covered textbook slithered across their path causing them both to halt. As it turned to face them, sharp teeth snarling, eyes dark with rage, Aurora took a step toward it and pointed one daring finger in its direction.

“No.”

She chastised, her tone dropping to admonish the creature for even thinking about turning on them. They appeared to be at a stalemate for a moment – none backing down, but neither willing to fight – until the Monster Book of Monsters let out a defeated whimper and scurried off to find something else to mutilate.

Letting out a breath she’d been holding to feign the command for respect, her attention was drawn to something shiny zipping around the buildings. Whatever this was had been so fast that by the time she lay eyes on it, the glimmering object had already shot off in ten more directions. The girl twirled around slowly on the spot, hazel orbs occasionally tracking its position in an attempt to catch a long-enough glimpse to recognise this piece, until Albus used both hands to face her in the other direction.

There, buzzing fitfully at her eyeline, was the golden snitch. The sun’s rays were bouncing off its outer shell, the wings flapping far too fast to observe effectively, and as she made a reach for the rounded item, it darted side-to-side as if to humiliate. Every time Aurora’s hand extended for the quirky piece of equipment, it avoided her by inches but remained directly in front to humour her. Just as she had decided to give up, a black gloved hand outstretched from over her shoulder, palm open, allowing the winged ball to land softly without hesitation.

Albus was close now, his breath barely fanning over the back of her neck, and upon turning to face him, Aurora’s eyes narrowed playfully in mock-annoyance as she shook her head, a sigh of discontent passing her lips. Instead of feigning innocence, Albus returned the look with a self-satisfied smile, a hint of mischief brightening his blue irises. Reaching for her hand, he gently placed the golden snitch into her palm and closed her fingers around the ball, holding tightly onto it for a moment as if to express its importance.

“Let it fly if there is trouble,” he warned quietly, suddenly a serious glint returning to his eyes.

All Aurora could do was nod and attempt to keep her heart from pounding in her chest – judging by the look on his face and his warning, he’d be leaving her here and going to meet whomever he had mentioned to Kowalski only minutes earlier. Unlike with the muggle, Albus had not yet informed her of whether her case was free of the Qilin, too. With one glance down to it and back up, she realised the answer shown in his lack of altered expression was far more than she had actually wanted – no confirmation, but also no denial. This was potentially dangerous territory, and one that she would now have to walk carefully, alone.

As the girl’s hazel eyes followed her hand down to the pocket of her coat, dropping the now-subdued snitch safely inside, Dumbledore took this moment to apparate away from the girl in order to meet Aberforth at another location. Aurora was now the only occupant currently residing in this web of back-alley streets whilst the chaos continued amongst Grindelwald’s men.

Having been transported to another wing of the historic town, Albus began walking swiftly to match the pace of the other witches and wizards, his younger brother sidling alongside. Their forms blended into the heavy crowds effortlessly, hats tipped low to mask their faces as they made their way to where the ceremony was being held. Credence’s health was declining fast and they needed to find him before Gellert realized his fate – he'd know there would be no further use for the boy once his condition deteriorated indefinitely, hence disposal being not only anticipated but expected.

“How long does he have?” Aberforth’s voice was dreary – his son was dying and he had spent his entire life trying to forget his existence. Now, there was little time left to make up for it.

The elder offered only a solemn look of empathy, but there were no words to reassure his brother. As they continued forth, ducking under fallen banners and shreds of paper descending from the rooftops, they attempted to keep their minds clear of negativity. Though, as they were unsure how much time Aurelius actually had, or even if they would arrive before his downfall, it made for a difficult task.

The aged, battered phoenix, feathers dull and dishevelled, flew circles around their heads as if recognising the familial bloodline, or to remind them the inevitable was coming. It called out every other lap, its cry a soothing melody carried by the breeze as it swooped and dived with an unusual level of elegance for something so bedraggled. No one else seemed to notice the creature, or if they did, they were severely lacking the knowledge of its rarity and purpose – only seeing an old, decrepit being. But as embers turned to ash, falling from the darkened singed feathers, the siblings knew the hourglass was nearly empty.

It had been almost ten minutes since Aurora was left alone of which she hadn’t managed to make much headway to the ceremony due to steering clear of the German Ministery’s henchmen, as well as keeping to the shadows to avoid Grindelwald’s supporters. She had also been forced to turn back on herself after reaching an alley with a dead-end – the walkthrough being blocked by a large mound of baked goods, one of which she was now nibbling the edges of.

Two figures caught the girl’s attention a few alleys over. Turning her back to the wall to hide from prying eyes beneath a cotton canopy, she watched in confusion as a burgundy-hooded figure led Jacob Kowalski by his hand to a secluded doorway. Slipping her wand from the confinement of her sleeve, eyes sharp and concentrated, she prepared herself to defend the seemingly unperturbed muggle until the hood was lowered to reveal Queenie Goldstein.

Aurora couldn’t believe what she was seeing after hearing the stories from not only her siblings but Jacob, too. The legilimens looked well in herself, although from where the brunette stood it appeared the colour and shine had dulled from her eyes, along with an air of pain shrouding the woman’s expression. Had she managed to escape the clutches of Grindelwald after all these years, or had she simply wanted to see that her beloved was safe? Jacob held onto Queenie’s hand tightly, kissing the back of it softly as he gazed at her full of love and longing.

The youngest Scamander suddenly felt as though she were intruding on something that should be kept private – not for her eyes, or anyone else’s for that matter – so with one last glance to ensure the pair were not in any immediate danger, she scurried away. There was an ache deep in her chest for them; the legislation was unkind to the possibility of muggles and magic-users uniting as one, and having worked in the Muggle Relations department for long enough, she had seen her fair share of Ministery interventions when the opposing sides found love within its forbidden embrace. Numerous No-Maj obliviated, witches and wizards' reputations turned to ruin, all simply for following their hearts and not their heads. It was absurd and inhuman, but it was the law.

Trekking further into the city, the mountains of Bhutan came clearly into view, along with the thousands of supporters making their way to the monastery where the fate of the wizarding world would be decided. There was a hidden portal halfway across the ancestral, flagstone bridge lined with banners containing portraits of the three candidates running for Ministery leader which posed as a gateway to Bhutan – this would shut moments before the choosing ceremony to prevent tardy late-comers and unwanted guests. Hoping Queenie and Jacob would reach the overpass in time, the brunette walked on.

Coming to a cross-section, a vaguely familiar black wisp caught the corner of her eye momentarily. As the girl turned to analyse it, however, the mist disappeared. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she stood quietly for a few seconds in the hopes of its reoccurrence and when it did, Aurora chose that direction in which to follow – it had been a couple of weeks since she’d seen it, but now it was back in full view she needed to know more.

Chasing the vapour through the streets, ensuring she didn’t stray too far from her initially intended path, the girl took note of how it moved, how it acted, and the way it altered shape and reformed despite the wind picking up. After a hundred metres or so of trailing this black mass, all of a sudden, the wisp ceased its teasing and vanished. Standing motionless, awaiting its return, an acute incessant tapping was felt on Aurora’s still-injured shoulder igniting a jolt of pain, though when she turned around the sensation had stopped but nothing and nobody awaited her.

An immediate chill crawled down her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Chastising herself for being so foolish, her feet turned 180 degrees until she came face-to-face with two pairs of eyes. Dread flooded her system, knuckles on the briefcase handle whitening as her jaw held tight, teeth grinding with anxiety. One step back was met with two forward. There was no evasion this time.

Chapter Text

“Bonjour, Madam.”

Aurora could only offer a small nod with a forced smile in response for words had entirely escaped her. She felt as if she were a deer caught under torchlight, frozen in one position, attempting not to taunt the lion of whom was currently looking on with hungry eyes. The French acolyte, adorning a simplistic dark cotton overcoat with the hem of her teal blue dress swaying softly in the breeze, wore a sickening grin at the girl’s obvious discomfort. Satisfaction lay sparkling within those sharp blue eyes.

Taking a momentary glance at her surroundings, there were only two directions out of this corner-street – back the way she came, or straight into the maws of the enemy. But as the options weighed themselves out in her mind, both doors of opportunity were quickly snuffed. Vinda Rosier apparated to stand before the doorway behind, her wicked smile remaining, and the newest electoral candidate moved to the centre of the aisle; hands folded before him. A dare, if she’d ever seen one.

“Aurora, dear,” He lowered himself down from the stairwell, standing only metres away. “How lovely of you to make an appearance on this truly historic day.”

“Grindelwald,” she greeted, eyes slightly downcast, breath escaping in short puffs through her nose. “I assumed you would be at the ceremony already,”

“I should be,” he informed, arms motioning to his surroundings, nodding briefly to his right-hand woman. “And yet, here we are.”

The leather briefcase was pulled closer to the youngest Scamander’s side, her head tilting somewhat to listen out for any advances made by his accomplice from behind, her eyes never straying from his. The smile gracing his lips was not one to ease her nerves, but to express humour in her failed attempt at remaining unaffected. She was exactly where he wanted her to be, and he enjoyed the fact she had accepted this, however discreetly.

“I have one last subject matter to attend, with which I had hoped you would assist me,” when she did not speak, the wizard continued. “I gather you have chosen your side?”

Though the young lady retreated a submissive step again, she raised her chin at his rhetorical question and held his expectant stare defiantly. She would not participate in these games – not when one wrong move could prove detrimental for the future of the wizarding world. Even so, her lack of verbal response provided all that he needed to know, along with the slight tremble as his eyes darkened in acknowledgement.

Grindelwald cleared his throat. “Then you understand that – by extension – if not with me, you are against me,” His brows rose as he reached a hand forward, palm open. “The case, now, if you will,”

When Aurora’s head shook softly back and forth, the man before her began to tut tauntingly, one pointed finger waggling in her direction. “Are you really willing to risk so much for him?”

“It is for all of them,” she countered in a hushed tone, a slither of cold running through her as his sickeningly sweet smile fell.

“Would any of them still recognise you if your very being was permanently altered to that of which you transformed most often, or would you be disregarded, hunted by the muggle-kind you try so hard to protect?”

The open threat constricted the air surrounding the three magic-users, turning it thick and heavy. A cautionary warning of what could be, and what will be, sent alarm bells blaring in the girl’s head, thoughts scrambling with ideas as to how she could avoid the only ultimatum offered without losing her free will in the meantime. Until now, she’d forgotten Albus’ warning of not straying from their designated paths – how she wished for a second opportunity to choose differently. Hindsight really is a bitch.

“That is a shame,” Breaking her silence, Grindelwald feigned a sigh of disappointment, looking up to the sky for effect.

Glaring back to the youngest Scamander, his hand raised slowly – the Elder wand clasped leniently within his grip – and jerked it in her direction, expression never altering.

Initially, nothing seemed to change. That was until precious seconds had passed and the pain grew; starting at the heel of her palm but raiding quickly through every finger and deep into her wrist. Looking down, the aluminium handle clutched tightly in her grasp flared a vibrant red colour, the heat burning Aurora’s skin until the torment became too much and the briefcase was released, toppling indelicately to the ground. Despite blistered skin, she made a last-ditch attempt to protect the contents of the bag until the necklace that had been lain loosely around her neck tightened against her throat, forcing her to the floor.

Aurora’s hands scratched and scraped at the noose, fingernails cutting deep marks into the flesh as she gasped for breath, forced to watch whilst Vinda retrieved the case with that wicked sneer. Eyes closing in desperation, they sprung back open to reveal Grindelwald kneeling alongside as one of her arms was brought under the solid weight of his shoe, the other restrained in his larger palm against her chest, pushing her shoulders back into the paving slabs. His wand was held in the other hand, only an inch from her face as his lips grew to a smirk at her struggles.

“I told you once that you would beg me for forgiveness,” he reminded, dropping his head to whisper derisively in her ear whilst she was held still. “So, beg.”

Clamping her eyes shut again, jaw clenching in distress, she fought her restraints for just a sliver of oxygen but this only satisfied his need for anguish as he watched on in amusement. Dumbledore had chosen an excellent ally for his army, indeed, but it was a shame that her capabilities were being hidden behind inferior wand-magic. Aurora could have been so much more had she have chosen differently, although perhaps that was all Albus would ever need her for. Hair falling from its tidy slicked-back position, he shook his head at her brawl, watching as a tear rolled from the corner of her eye, tracking down the side of her face and onto the concrete below.

“You are valuable. I would hate to waste a life such as yours,” Leaning down to her ear one more time, he cast a final warning in his venomous tongue. “Behave yourself and stay down, or I will take the light from your eyes and make them watch,”

He placed a single, chaste kiss upon the drying tear tracks and leant back to study the girl closely as her attention grew unfocused and those bright hazel eyes rolled back into her skull. Oxygen levels depleted, muscles losing all strength only moments later, Aurora’s consciousness faded as her body was left limp in the unfrequented street for any wandering passersby to discover.

With the briefcase now in the hands of the enemy, and the youngest Scamander sibling lying motionless on the ground, the small, golden ball rolled from within the girl’s coat pocket, clinking delicately against the cobblestones below. Free from the constraints of cotton, the wings spread eagerly and fluttered the item into the air, picking up speed and zipping off in search of its owner.

As the two brothers continued to rush in harmony with the crowd, the arrival of the snitch broke their stride as it flitted erratically before them.

“Where did that come from?” Aberforth asked, voice gruff with scepticism.

“Aurora,” Albus replied, snatching the item from the air, glancing quickly toward their surroundings in the hopes she would miraculously appear. “I told her to let it fly if there was trouble,”

“I’ll go back for her,”

“No,” he turned to his younger brother then, placing his hands on both shoulders. “Find Credence, he needs you. I will find Aurora.”

With that, Albus apparated to the last location the girl had been spotted, whispering a locator spell to the snitch and allowing it to buzz wilfully ahead. As it flew erratically, searching for the recipient of the spell, the hoots and hollers of candidate supporters started fading as most had already made their way to the bridge. After several diversions to avoid unwarranted attention, marching quickly to keep up with the snitch, the echo of coughing and spluttering pierced his senses like a candle in the night.

Grasping the winged ball out from the sky once more, Albus rounded the corner to find the brunette on her hands and knees, choking and gasping for breath, body shaking with every effort to reoxygenate. His legs picked up the pace, breaking into a hurried jog as he, too, fell to his knees on the cobblestones before her, gloved hands obtaining a strong hold on her arms in order to push her upper body back. Hazel eyes wide and split with broken blood vessels snapped to his in an instant; fear and pain etched so deep within. Grasping her chin tightly, he raised her head to observe the dark purple bruising with droplets of blood forming a ring around her throat, separated by red markings curated from her own fingernails.

The ease at which she had obeyed his demand to tilt her head, and did not fight him still – despite her discomfort – settled an uneasy feeling in Albus’ stomach; she had nearly broken this time. The silver chained necklace, now laying limp around her clavicle, caught his attention for the shiny metal was tainted with spots of crimson liquid, some links having been crushed so harshly they had mishappen. Ripping the jewellery from her neck in outrage his blue orbs trained back to her face – the girl was still frantic.

“Aurora,” he attempted to interrupt her hyperventilation, but nothing changed. “Aurora! Slowly, slow it down,”

This redirected her attention, momentarily stunning her out of a frenzy, as she realized exactly who was knelt before her. His thumbs instinctively smoothed over her cheeks in an attempt to soothe as tears started escaping from the corners of her red-rimmed eyes. Understanding suddenly dawned on her – she was still alive.

“Albus-” her words were cut off as a cough arose again, spluttering into her raw and blistered hand. “He took the case; I couldn’t stop him-”

Voice hoarse and gravelly, more tears continued to fall. Wiping a few away, his blue irises locked onto the blistered palm she had curled into her chest protectively. Removing his hands from the girl’s face, he wrapped one around her wrist to pull it closer for inspection, holding firm when she attempted to pull it from him almost instantly, face scrunched in pain. Without altering his expression, he patiently waited for her attempts to cease whilst removing one black leather glove with his teeth, revealing the warm hand beneath. Delicately running his fingertip over the broken skin, pain subsided as the blisters lightened into a new complexion of pink, marks fading to their normal colour.

A few minutes later, Albus helped Aurora to stand, holding one arm looped within his own to support her currently wavering stature. Once she had caught her bearings, the guilt of allowing the briefcase to be stolen from her started weighing heavy.

“He threatened to kill me if I didn’t stay down,” she started, holding onto his arm for reassurance, voice still rough. “Said he’d make you all watch. I am sorry, there was nothing else I could do to stop him,”

Interrupting her ramble, he shushed her softly. “It’s alright,” his arm retreated to look her in the eye. “But we really must go before the ceremony begins without us,”

Taking a final deep breath, she clasped his awaiting hand once more and the pair was apparated to the bridge crossing, Aurora bumping lightly into Aberforth’s side as their feet found solid ground – Albus having released his grip slightly too early. The youngest brother had been about to bark an insult at whomever had jostled him until his eyes met broken hazel orbs, laced with unnerve. Firing a horrified look to his brother, all that was received in response was a perturbed expression, worry crinkling the corners of his eyes, and a shake of his head - ‘don’t ask’.