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Chapter Text

In his youth, Hogsmeade had been a haven.

Perhaps in Hogwarts, Kishiar had been safe from outright attacks. During the first few years, he could indulge in the innocent bubble of childhood naivety, ignorant of the real world. In those days the castle had been an opportunity for freedom he could never have experienced in the bustling, suffocating depths of the Orr family home.

But that comfort had disappeared forever once he'd been made Heir Peletta. 

He could never again be at ease in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by people who reported his every move to their leering parents. Every action had to be calculated, controlled. Every comment was made in consideration of how it would affect his family and his position. He was no longer a student whose purpose was to explore the world, but a child up against powerful unseen forces beyond the castle walls.

In Hogwarts he could not die—but he could barely live, either. 

Hogsmeade was a breath of fresh air. It was the only place he and Nathan could mingle. Where he could be welcomed with warm smiles even after his disguises stopped fooling people, where all manner of people could drink and joke and laugh without politics or expectations weighing them down. Perhaps more immediate danger awaited him, but it was the kind of risk Kishiar honestly preferred—he could handle trolls or mongrels however he wanted, without concerning himself over the opinions of others. 

Hogsmeade was a place where adventures could be had, where he could experience the magic of the Wizarding world to its fullest extent. 

Something Hogwarts should have been able to give him. But where normality was concerned, Kishiar la Orr had always been an exception.

The Ancient House of Diarca had pulled every string in their arsenal to keep the royal house away from Hogwarts while their precious puppet heir was attending. This meant keeping them out of the entire highlands area. It was irony at its finest—he was barred from returning to his homeland the very year his core had miraculously healed. Kishiar could only learn of the area's events through Mick Shuden's contacts, or Hellem's secret letters, and even then information was limited.

It was both a boon and a pain sometimes, how much of Hogwarts was shrouded in secrecy.

After years and years of meddling, the Royal House of Orr finally made a breakthrough; the current Hogwarts Headmaster had announced his plans for retirement. They were hoping he would—he was one of the driving forces keeping them out. His last year as headmaster would not-so-coincidentally be Katchian la Orr's last year at Hogwarts. Considering how much the man hated children, the only reason he hadn't retired already was the Diarca money lining his pockets. 

Before the Wizengamot could blink, Kishiar la Orr had been elected as the new headmaster.

The position would not come without problems. Half of Hogwarts' professors had followed the former headmaster in announcing their retirement. It was, admittedly, a problem they had anticipated. After the attack on the castle from the Ranrok Rebellion, much of Hogwarts' staff had been forced to retire due to their injuries. Lord Diarca had taken advantage of the chaos to fill the spots with his own people, in anticipation of Katchian's first year at Hogwarts. 

The regrets over the rebellion still plagued Kishiar's brother to this day. Keilusa's political power had been destabilized at the time, having been injured in a carriage ‘accident.’ (He’d also been grieving, of course, as while his life had been spared, that of his chosen child had not.) The Royal House couldn't move the useless Minister of Magic to any action, not when man only cared about preserving his own reputation and the other lords had more influence. Naturally, the Wizengamot only cared about the Royal Heir Selection. 

It had taken an actual attack on Hogwarts to bring the Ministry's attention to Ranrok—a whole year too late to do anything.

The public outrage against the Ministry had actually allowed the Royal House to gain back quite a bit of control over the Ministry by replacing so many incompetent people (including the minister, who resigned, and Hebraina Leiflang was eagerly voted to take his place). But the residents of the Hogwarts highlands had suffered much before then. The Royal House of Orr could all agree that their stability wasn't worth all the innocent lives that were ruined.

(Not that Kishiar would have been able to do much himself. That year he had fully expected to be gone before the students even graduated. 

He was the result of centuries of inbreeding to try to maintain “divine blood.” Born with the magic of a wizard and the core of a squib, they said. A magic core that would never properly expand as it was supposed to, and an overwhelming magic power that would never stop growing. At some point, there was simply too much magic for the core to handle, and it would all burst out in one bright, blindingly violent ending.

That was the fate promised to Kishiar la Orr.

He should have been dead.

But something happened—some inexplicable, fantastical miracle, involving a magic none of them had ever encountered before. He still had no idea how his magic core had been repaired and expanded the very night it was going to shatter—that just so happened to also be the very night Ranrok was defeated.

The day of the attack was celebrated as a victory over Ranrok's Loyalists and Rookwood's Gang. Though it was for other reasons, the Royal House of Orr celebrated too.)

Kishiar spent the three months left of the school year searching for their replacements, and he still had open positions by the time summer rolled around. He was forced to leave the hiring issue to his brother while he headed to the castle for the first time in seven years. 

The first few days were spent reintroducing himself to the house elves and staff members, reminiscing as he navigated the castle halls, and getting other matters in order. He took the first opportunity he could—using his worn wand as an excuse—to take a trip to Hogsmeade.

It was a bright, bustling day when Kishiar set out, traveling well-worn paths past ominous signs and the mysterious Forbidden Forest. The sun was climbing steadily as he and his loyal friend Nathan Zuckerman entered through front gates he thought he’d never see again.

Kishiar did not head straight to Ollivanders, of course. Instead he dragged Nathan around the maze of shops, gleefully meeting old friends and perusing the goods of new ones. Zonko’s many prank items were as delightful as ever, and Honeydukes sported a larger variety of sweets than in his day. The local Quidditch shop sold impressive broom upgrades that he simply had to have. They even passed by a store run entirely by a house elf—and a strange feeling welled in his chest when he realized the former owner, someone he had known, had passed away so long ago. 

A lot has changed, hasn't it?

A lot had changed, and it would continue to change. Kishiar himself was evidence of that, a variable that was meant to have been removed by now. But nothing would ever match the wonder and adventure he had experienced as a child, simply because he knew better now.

The bittersweet thought was still on his mind when he entered Ollivanders. The desk bell rang as he approached the counter, and a jolly old man appeared from the shelves to greet them. 

Kishiar grinned sheepishly as he held up his faithful wooden companion. "My wand needs a bit of tuning." 

All tools faced wear over time, and wands were no exception. Kishiar's wand saw plenty of action—especially with his overburdening magic—so he had it repaired once a year to keep it from wearing out completely. 

It was technically unnecessary. His control over his magic was practically flawless now, so his wand would last half a decade before it needed to be repaired. But Kishiar would not tolerate even the slightest chance of error, if it meant keeping everyone safe.

(Safe from him.)

Unfortunately, having been suddenly called back home from his work abroad, he hadn't found the chance to get it appraised in a while. He'd forgotten about it completely until he noticed the lagging accuracy of his spells. While it was a convenient excuse to get out of the castle, it was also a legitimate concern. 

Ollivander carefully inspected the wand with a hum. "Ten and a half inches, english oak, phoenix feather core, springy... I can tell you've been keeping it in good shape. All I need is a few minutes, and we'll have it right as rain."

Just as he said, Ollivander handed the renewed wand back after a few minutes. "Curious," the old man hummed.

"What is?"

"Oh," he smiled, "a curious coincidence, that's all."

Kishiar raised an eyebrow. "Sir Ollivander, you cannot possibly say that and not expect to stir my curiosity."

Honestly, this old man... he took just as much delight in being vague and mysterious as Kishiar did. He trusted nothing was wrong, but still had to resist the urge to clutch his wand tighter.

The old man chuckled, pulling his own wand from his ear to help navigate around the cluttered shop. "I was just wondering what a coincidence it was, that your wand's brother stopped by just this morning. For a similar reason, too."

"...Brother wand?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Lord Peletta." The man began taking wand boxes from the walls, seemingly arbitrarily. The workings of the Ollivander mind were famously incomprehensible. "The phoenix whose feather resides in your wand only ever gave one other feather. The wand I made from that other feather is one of my most prized works, and even choosier than yours."

Both Kishiar and Nathan made a face at that. As the saying went, the wand chose the wizard, and phoenix feathers were notorious for producing extremely picky wands. They were usually a wand maker's last resort when testing wands with new students.

That tendency had resulted in the near hour of testing and exploding magic before Kishiar finally found his own wand all those years ago.

"It stayed on my shelves long after you graduated, and I doubted I would ever meet its owner myself." The old man twirled his mustache. "But I was fortunate enough to do so, seven years ago. Lucky number and all, eh?"

"But what do you mean by brother wands?" Nathan enquired.

"Wands whose cores came from the same source cannot be forced to duel each other," the man responded. "It's not a well-researched topic. Brother wands rarely choose wizards that aren't several generations apart. A pity, really, since they’re so fascinating."

Kishiar peered at his own wand in contemplation. "So there exists such a person... one I can't fight." 

Curious indeed. Ollivander had mentioned their wand was even pickier than his. Suddenly Kishiar was quite intrigued by a person who could meet the standards of such a high quality wand.

Nathan evidently had a different perspective. "Will that be a problem in the future?" His eyes darkened slightly. Kishiar was far from defenseless without his wand, but the notion of a person his liege still seemed more like a threat than anything. Threats were better anticipated than unexpected—

Ollivander suddenly leaned out from behind his stack of wands. 

The sounds of the street outside seemed to fade away as an invisible weight settled on their shoulders. Both Kishiar and Nathan stiffened. The elder's unblinking eyes bore holes into their very souls as a charged silence fell upon them. 

"Only a fool would make an enemy of that young man," the elder intoned, "and I don't believe either of you is a fool. On the contrary, I think Lord Peletta would find him quite fascinating."

The silent weight lifted.

Nathan merely grunted, unsatisfied with the words. But Kishiar's eyes were still on his wand as they left the shop, rolling it in his hands as the thoughts flitted by.

Was it so strange to wonder what kind of person was chosen by his wand's brother? 

The fact they had a phoenix feather wand in the first place meant they were exceptionally talented. They were responsible enough to get their wand repaired often, and powerful enough to earn even the mysterious Sir Ollivander's respect. Few people understood how rare it was for an Ollivander to acknowledge them.

Such a shame they'd missed each other by a few hours.

These thoughts were sequestered to the back of his mind when Nathan tapped his shoulder. His friend discreetly held up a round token engraved with tiny runes. It was warm to the touch—a signal from Hellem, who was back at Hogwarts. 

The two of them quickly shuffled into a nearby alley just in time for a bird to appear out of thin air in Nathan's outstretched arms. It was the key to Hellem's secure postage route: a diricawl. 

It was trained to teleport to a certain object—in this case the round token—on command. Hellem sent all their secret correspondence in this manner. Training a diricawl to do anything other than teleport at random was difficult enough; only a true expert on fantastic beasts, such as esteemed Professor Hellem Caspril, could manage such a feat. 

Kishiar expertly untied the letter on the bird's leg. Nathan then let it go, and it vanished instantly, presumably back to the older woman. Ruby eyes darkened as they scanned through the contents.

"A request from Hellem," he murmured. "She's heard that poachers in the valley have gotten hold of a phoenix hatchling."

Magical beasts were far more plentiful in Hogwarts Valley—and the surrounding highlands—because of how isolated it was from the non-magical world. However, the heightened frequency of these beasts attracted greedy people from all walks of life. 

Just years ago, a massive criminal group called Rookwood's Gang had united the local poachers, practically taking over the highlands. They even had their fingers in the Ministry, making retaliation increasingly difficult. Not to mention the various members of pureblood families who secretly used the gang's services and supported them. 

It had taken the sudden death of the ringleader to finally bring them down. 

Now the poachers consisted of small, disjointed groups scattered across the valley. Sometimes a gang got big-headed and tried to become the Neo-Ashwinders, but they never lasted long. The Ministry always got ahold of enough evidence to take them down before they became a serious threat.

(Which was actually quite strange, when one thought about it. Poachers were normally quite skilled at covering their tracks, even when their numbers got larger. But as soon as one group stepped too far out of their circle, they were brought down swiftly, as if someone was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.)

The group who caught the phoenix would likely become a similar problem. They'd gain quite a bit of notoriety for being able to sell a phoenix.

"What should we do?" Nathan asked.

"Apparently, nothing at all."

"...Pardon?"

"According to this, Granny's known since yesterday." Kishiar passed the note to him. "She's confident the situation will be resolved without us. All she wants is for us to get an update from her source."

Which she could presumably do in her own time, if she trusted her source so much. Why was she asking them to go in her stead? 

There was more to this than met the eye. 

Nathan agreed, muttering a quick incantation to burn the note. "Her source is the owner of Brood and Peck, a beast byproduct store."

"It's on the other side of Hogsmeade, if I recall correctly. Shall we?"

A young man nearly crashed into Nathan on their way into Brood and Peck. They managed to side step each other just enough to bump shoulders instead. 

"Agh—I'm so sorry!" The red-headed man yelped an apology as he passed, bright green eyes glancing over them. "Excuse me!" 

Before they could respond, he had melted into the Hogsmeade crowd as quickly as he appeared. Goodness, we already lost track of him? He was unusually quick on his feet. 

Nathan gazed after him for just a moment, lightly sniffing the air. 

"Something the matter?"

"There's a scent... nevermind. Let's go in."

Kishiar filed the moment away for later and followed behind his friend. Before they had left the alley, Kishiar had activated his disguise ring, an old family artifact. It applied his usual glamor charm that worked wonders when wanting to avoid attention. Nathan would be taking the lead for now.

The inside of the shop was surprisingly peaceful. Instead of stocked shelves, the shop owner allowed the beasts to roam freely. They were scattered around in small beds, or in nests built on shelves, or in open cages. 

Behind the front desk was a huge open area where a pair of nifflers were running circles around a young man. He just managed to pry the bag of food out of their grip as they walked in.

"Just—a minute!" He grunted, turning around to place the bag near a row of empty troughs. With a wave of his wand, the feeders opened and automatically started filling with pellets. 

The sound of the food instantly broke the peace. The beasts raised a cacophony of hoots, squeaks, and chittering as they rushed to eat. The man quickly scrambled out of the way to avoid the onslaught.

Nathan stepped slightly in front of Kishiar as the beasts ran past. "Is it safe to do that while they're all free to roam?"

"If you've got quick reflexes. I don't know how Dad handles it with his old bones." The young man made his way over to them with a miserable sigh. "They're only like this when it's time to eat; otherwise they're as docile as mice. I suppose his apprentice is on feeding duty. Oh—welcome, by the way. I'm Devran Hartude. I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"Nathan," he replied shortly, "and this is Akit."

"We haven't visited Hogsmeade since we graduated," Kishiar elaborated. "I quite missed the vibrant feel of the place. Is the owner in, by chance?"

Devran shook his head. "Sorry, my father's out visiting my sister today. And his apprentice is busy too, so he got me to cover him..."

"You don't seem very happy. Is this not a family business?"

"Oh, no. Dad's giving it all to his apprentice once he retires. Neither my sister and I are interested in running this shop. I'm actually a reporter, and my sister's a damn good potioneer alongside getting married. Dad's actually visiting her about it today..." 

Devran's eyes darkened, before he shook his head. "Anyway, Dad won't be back today. Maybe I can help you instead?"

Kishiar considered it, glancing around the shop.

 "We're actually here on an errand," he said. "Professor Hellem Caspirl sent us. She ordered kneazle fur in bulk, I believe—she hasn't had the time to go out and fetch some herself, what with the staffing situation at Hogwarts."

Devran stilled at once. "Sure, I can get that order for you," he said warily. "But I reckon you don't need the proprietor for that sort of thing."

"No, I imagine not." Kishiar smiled.

Considering the proprietor of the shop was an elder, Kishiar wouldn't be surprised if they had trouble with Rookwood's Gang in the past. Hogsmeade's residents had all despised Rookwood, so much so that a citywide celebration was held the day the gang finally collapsed. 

It was no surprise that many Hogsmeade residents hated poachers with a passion for being the avenue Rookwood's Gang used to take over.

Especially a beast byproduct shop. They would have the best knowledge on beast habitats and legal traders, to stock their shelves. They probably used the same information channels that the Poacher Pack used to scout targets—and as poachers were a direct threat to their business, it would make sense to want to keep them at bay.

All that was to say, Devran was unlikely to be on the poachers' side. He might even have the very information they were looking for, being a reporter. An information source that even Hellem used was bound to give Devran an advantage in his career.

So Kishiar decided to trust him, letting his expression soften. "She wanted to know if you had any updates on a certain hatchling situation—even offered to drop all her work and help, if needed. Considering her work ethic, this situation must be bothering her quite a bit."

Thankfully, Devran relaxed. "That does sound like her. Not many people who care about beasts as much as she does," he nodded. Turning to the row of large drawers to his right, he opened one and started setting aside bundles of kneazle fur. "You can tell her that her favorite black cat is working on it. She'll know what I mean."

Kishiar's eyebrows rose slightly. He'd have to ask Hellem who that was later. Devran clearly wasn't offering to tell. 

The young man placed their order in a box, wrapped it, and placed it on the counter. But as Nathan paid and went to grab it, Devran hesitated to let go.

"You're both new hires at Hogwarts, right? Since Professor Caspirl asked something of you."

Kishiar paused, then gave the man a disarming smile. "That's right. We've kept in contact with Hellem after graduating." 

"She recommended us to the positions herself," Nathan added. 

They sensed Devran only needed a bit of a push to tell them something crucial. So, Kishiar continued:

"It was a delight to see her again after so long; she's a lovely person and excellent professor. Endlessly patient too, considering all the trouble we got up to as youths—I suppose assisting her on her trips to the Forbidden Forest may have helped." 

Mentioning that would hopefully demonstrate how much Hellem trusted them, and that they had experience in traversing dangerous areas. 

It worked; Devran glanced between the two of them again before taking a deep breath. "I'm concerned that we might have to take Hellem up on her offer to help," he admitted. "The stakes for this mission are pretty high."

"Oh?"

"We've been tracking this particular group of poachers for a while now. They've made themselves notorious for their unconventional targets. Pixies, acromantula, a few swooping evil. Recently they've taken over one of the old haunts of Rookwood's Gang—Horntail Hall."

Nathan and Kishiar glanced at each other. "The dragon fighting ring?" 

Horntail Hall had been one of the Gang’s biggest sources of revenue and awe, as they had somehow managed to enslave fearsome dragons. It was one of the first things the Ministry had managed to crack down on relating to the Gang. In fact, emissaries from the goblin nation had even helped take the ring down, so long as they were allowed to retrieve the goblin artifacts that the poachers had bought from Ranrok's Loyalists. 

(It was a part of some kind of deal with the Hero of Hogwarts that the goblin king refused to share the details of.) 

"We were concerned they might have found the method that Rookwood’s lot used to control dragons, and may try to start up the ring," Devran continued. "So we started pursuing them much more closely. It seems they've made the hall their base of operations and most of their transactions happen there. All the beasts they poach also end up there before being sold. We were planning on observing a bit longer, but then we learned about the phoenix—and now we've no time to confirm whether or not they have any dragons."

If these poachers got powerful enough to start a dragon fighting ring, the Ministry would have to be called on them. Kishiar was confident the new, stricter laws on poachers would force them to act far more intensely than they had for Rookwood's Gang. 

Evidently the residents of Hogsmeade did not trust the Ministry to follow through, though, and Kishiar couldn't blame them. 

"So, I'd appreciate it if you could ask Hellem for her opinion? She at least knows more about dragons than we do..."

Kishiar hummed. "She might not be able to get back to you today," he warned, "since a lot of work still needs to be done. But perhaps if we had a location, she could show up if she really believes you need help?"

In the end, Kishiar and Nathan left the store with a location in the Forbidden Forest, a multitude of questions Hellem would soon be subjected to, and a mission to save a baby phoenix.

(And the fascinating idea of that brother wand occasionally resurfaced in his mind.)

"I-I'm sorry if I'm a bother, Professor Caspirl, I just needed to share this with someone..."

"None of that, Gloe, we're colleagues now. And you aren't teaching Divination for nothing. Your premonitions have always been invaluable, even while you were a student."

"Do you have any idea what it could mean?"

"One idea, yes. I have a feeling the results of this one will be quite entertaining~"

Chapter Text

In his youth, Hogwarts had been a haven.

The castle had been Yuder's inauguration into a brand new world, so much larger and more wondrous than the little cottage he'd grown up in. The expansive castle walls held many secrets to be discovered by persistent explorers; any corner could reveal a piece of the magical world that fanned the flames of Yuder's curiosity. Hogwarts rewarded his hard work and motivation with puzzles and adventure.

Needless to say his Hogwarts Field Guide had gotten much use. He still utilized its map today, seeing as he'd been allowed to keep the prototype version after graduation.

It wasn't all wonder and joy. His biggest trials and hardest tasks had taken place there, too. His frustration had never been worse than in the Map Chamber, and at times his schoolmates stood in his way. The wizarding world was filled with people, and thus filled with conflict. As much as wixen thought of themselves as above muggles, some things were just inherently human.

(Though Yuder had never truly been a part of the non-magical world, either. Despite showing no signs of magic, Yuder had been raised in a cottage in Scotland's magical highlands. His grandfather often showed him the magical plants they harvested, and taught him about the magical creatures that lived nearby. Even after Yuder's Hogwarts letter failed to arrive on his eleventh birthday, his grandfather never hid magic from him.

Yuder was always surrounded by magic, even if he couldn't wield it himself. He did not understand the strangeness of his upbringing until moving in with Enon over the summer, and learning about a world he was now permitted to be a part of.)

Hogwarts problems could not be solved just by wielding his immense power, and perhaps that was why Yuder was so frustrated with the people there.

Professors and students were wrapped up in political pursuits that Yuder knew nothing of. People got in his way for inane reasons—because he was muggleborn, because he started late, because he was a cold, defective Hufflepuff.

(Because he was the top of his class despite starting school four years late. Because he had more experience dueling dark wizards than making friends. Because people refused to believe a muggleborn could possibly be more talented than pureblood wixen. Because he refused to play politics when he was fifteen.)

He knew better now that he was older. He had been forced to learn the song and dance of the purebloods. But they had already decided what they thought about him, so he soon faded from their attention.

Hogsmeade, on the other hand, was quite consistent in its danger level. That was to say, anything could be dangerous. Sometimes you could enter a shop and have a normal conversation with the shopkeeper. Or you could get trapped in a poltergeist dungeon and fight for your life.

The benefit of this was that most Hogsmeade problems could be solved with brute force. The troll had been. The poltergeist had been. The Ashwinders and the Poacher Pack had been.

Ranrok had been.

But that was all in the past. Hogsmeade nowadays was not overrun by criminals who thought they owned the highlands. Instead it was the bright and friendly town it was meant to be, where Hogwarts students could freely mingle and visitors could confidently explore. It welcomed people from all over the magical world, embraced them and all their worries with open arms. It had never embodied the popular phrase "all roads lead to Hogsmeade" more than it did now.

Yuder rarely visited. He rarely left his cottage at all, if he was honest.

After leaving auror training behind, he'd spent most of his time in his childhood home. He made money by selling the potion ingredients he gathered in the highlands, or the beast byproducts he harvested from nearby creatures. 

Perhaps it was because he had been a driving force in both removing the poachers and hiding the beasts from them, but magical beasts all over the valley seemed to trust him no matter how far he went out.

Was it because they were the beasts he'd raised during his three years at Hogwarts? He still had some living in the vivarium the Room of Requirement had gifted to him before he graduated.

(They recognized him even after the entire year he'd spent in auror training. Even though he returned far more bitter and disillusioned than he had left. Their unconditional acceptance of him—as if to say welcome home, we are happy to see you again—had pierced through all the hurt and hate and pain.)

In any case, gathering was one of the many ways he sustained himself. Some potions ingredients were more dangerous to collect, and Yuder was one of the few people willing to tackle trolls, acromantulas, and inferi for their materials.

All the danger necessitated potions—so he also grew magical plants and had his own potion station, courtesy of Enon.

(He was aware that he had essentially transformed his cottage into what he had in the Room of Requirement.

The purpose of the Room was to transform to fit the needs of whomever entered it. They'd shown it to him it so he could use it to catch up on four years of missed lessons. It was also a convenient place to hide beasts he rescued from poachers.

For better or worse, he also used it to hide

The Room had been Yuder's space. It was one of the only spaces in the school where he could be alone, where he could process all the changes in his life and escape the whispers.

It was his home more than even his house common room had been. Was it any wonder he modeled his home after it?)

Yuder hunted and gathered, explored the highlands and pursued bounties. The only times he’d go to Hogsmeade were his bimonthly grocery trips, or to catch up with visiting friends. This weekend, the two overlapped on the same day.

He was still picking at his breakfast when he heard a knock at the door. “Come in.” 

Kanna did just that. “Good morning,” she smiled, setting a bag of pastries down in front of him. “I brought us breakfast!”

“I already ate.”

“So you don’t want the cinnamon rolls?”

“I never said that.”

She smiled knowingly and took a seat next to him.

Kanna Wand, one of the few people from his Hogwarts years that he still had contact with. She visited Yuder often, along with Gakane Bolunwald. The three had met on his first day at Hogwarts, in fact, and been inseparable since. 

(Kanna and Gakane made it a point to always ensure that at least one of them accompanied Yuder to social meetings. Perhaps out of some concern that he wouldn’t show up if they didn’t. 

It was a habit left over from their sixth year—Gakane’s seventh—at Hogwarts, when Yuder was plagued by nightmares and burdens far too heavy for a teenager; when Kanna had returned from an arduous summer with her father's family, who despised her; when a transfiguration master publicly rejected Gakane because of his family history, and he had to grapple with the harassment and humiliation that followed. 

It got better in later years—but they only had each other to lean on, those early days.)

“So what’s on your chore list?” Kanna asked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Yuder swallowed before responding. “Wand repair, first. Then I need to deliver the potion ingredients to Pippins, drop off some items with Penny, and leave the beast byproducts at Brood and Peck. I also have to get my groceries—for me and the beasts.”

Kanna hummed. “You’ll only have enough time for Pippins and Penny before the meeting. They always take ages, since you give them so much stuff at once. Alright then; after Penny, we’ll head to the Three Broomsticks to catch up with everyone. Then we’ll finish up your tasks and get ready for tonight.”

Ah, yes, tonight. “Do you have any updates on the situation?”

“I haven’t visited Devran since last time. Nothing has changed.” 

In other words, we’re moving forward with the plan.

Devran had been as white as a sheet when he informed them about the capture of a baby phoenix a few days ago. They absolutely had to release it before it bonded to one of the poachers, or was sold to some rich patron, or worse: killed for its feathers.

Yuder's part in the plan to save the baby phoenix would start tonight. This day was meant to complete the preparations. While going over the details of the plan, Yuder absentmindedly reached for the last cinnamon roll.

It went up in flames before he could grab it. 

A cursory glance to the perch at the end of the table showed a large crimson bird eagerly tearing into the treat.

At the time, Yuder had been fully confident that, like the rest of the beasts he housed in the Room of Requirement, the phoenix would return to his nest in the highlands after the threat was dealt with. Having been nearly killed by poachers, surely he was eager to be free of humans.

Then at graduation, the Room had gifted the phoenix’s vivarium to Yuder.

But Yuder had witnessed many of the phoenix’s abilities over the years by then, and couldn't fathom such a powerful being wishing to be tied down by a human. Despite what Enon told him, he figured the phoenix simply wasn’t comfortable yet and would wait another year or so.

Yuder thought nothing of it, even while placing perches around the house, in places he spent the most time in. Or when his hands habitually sought out soft feathers to run through. Or when he found himself conversing with the phoenix, who could only trill in response. 

It wasn't a big deal. It was an honor to be in the presence of such a creature. The bird’s stay should be comfortable, at least until the day he chose to leave.

The phoenix did not leave. 

Rather—he chose to stay. Yuder had not realized this until his disastrous last days of auror training.

The phoenix shielded him from an Avada Kedavra and emerged as a tiny hatchling from a pile of ash.

While recovering from the shock, he’d cradled the little bird in his hands and compared him to a little ember under his breath. The bird responded with a jovial chirp and fell asleep with complete trust.

Suddenly Yuder realized he couldn’t imagine a life without Ember by his side. 

Ah, so is this what Enon meant when he spoke of familiars?

“I still can’t get used to seeing him do that,” Kanna said, and Yuder turned back to look at her.

“Phoenixes can do a lot with fire.”

“Summoning things is not one of them,” she pointed out. “I hope you’ve been careful not to let him do that in front of others.”

“Of course.”

Ember paused his eating to send Kanna an affronted look. As if a fantastical being such as himself would be so careless.

Yuder knew the implications. Enon would curse under his breath each time he saw Ember perform that strange summoning ability. Phoenixes could teleport from one place to another using fire—but teleporting objects from another place to the phoenix was not something he should be able to do. 

Ember had gained the power after an accident. Yuder had been training with his ancient magic to control a ball of fire, and a juvenile Ember had dove into the flames before Yuder could stop him. The bird had emerged significantly older.

Phoenixes were known to age by absorbing fire, but it seemed Ember had absorbed the ancient magic as well. Thus, he gained an ability other phoenixes did not possess.

(“And to instantly age from a juvenile to an adult!” Enon had spat. “Even fire conjured by the average wizard would age it by a few weeks at most! You need to be more careful with that magic of yours, you hear me?!”

Yuder knew, of course, that his brother was not angry but merely afraid for him. The attention he’d received for his power in the past hadn’t exactly been beneficial.)

After cleaning up breakfast, Ember rubbed his head against Yuder’s chin before flying off to his vivarium. Yuder and Kanna then made the trek to the nearest hamlet before apparating to Hogsmeade’s apparition point.

The city streets were not quite bustling, being a few hours before the lunch rush, and the two easily went from Ollivanders, then to Pippins. On their way out, they ran into Gakane, who greeted them brightly. He agreed to take Yuder’s beast byproducts to Brood and Peck while they went to Penny’s shop. 

(A clever cover story for talking to their informant.)

Penny was delighted to see them, as she always was. She was quite the resourceful elf, having proved time and time again that she "could sell anything"—most notably by convincing a passing Yuder to buy the shop itself.

He owned her shop on paper only. If elves could legally own property, he'd have given the deed over to her years ago, but for now they were both content in letting Penny run the shop however she pleased. He merely stocked the shelves sometimes. He made sure to show his appreciation by visiting her often, and giving her gifts on holidays.

Yuder spent a few extra minutes with Penny to catch up, before he and Kanna made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Gakane had arrived before them; he waved over from a table at the back. 

A few of their other classmates were at the surrounding tables—Ever waved happily at them from a table nearby—but where Devran usually sat with Gakane, there were three Hogwarts students instead.

The elder two Yuder recognized from his past trips to Hogsmeade. He’d run into them peering into Zonko’s or fleeing from some chaos of their own making—Hinn and Finn Eldore, Gryffindors who had just finished their fourth year despite their short stature. Matching eager grins bloomed on their faces as he and Kanna approached and sat down.

The third student, sitting between them and Gakane, was unfamiliar. He must have just finished his first year—the young boy was absolutely tiny next to Gakane, and wore a Gryffindor scarf around his neck. He glanced between the three adults with wide brown eyes.

Hinn spoke first. “Sir Yuder! Fought any dragons lately?”

“Quelled any rebellions?” Finn added.

“Tamed any graphorns?”

“Battled any goblins?”

“The only goblins near Hogsmeade are merchants,” Yuder interrupted them, “and if you harass innocents, I will report you to your professors. Or punish you myself.”

The twins let out little eep's and held their hands up. “Not us, sir! We are not so uncivilized! You taught us better!”

The two had seen him ‘discipline’ a pair of students who were heckling a goblin resident, Garnuff, and his pet mooncalf Biscuit. They followed him around after that day, begging to learn his secrets. They'd only let up after Yuder agreed to teach them some uncommon jinxes that would help them chase off potential bullies—only after he extracted promises from them not to become bullies themselves. 

(Their story of wanting to defend a young Hufflepuff classmate, who was being unfairly targeted by other students, may have affected his decision to teach them.)

Now the twins approached him whenever they saw him in town. As Gakane and Kanna were often accompanying Yuder to Hogsmeade, they were used to the twins and merely snickered at their antics. Their young housemate, meanwhile, seemed to be considering their words. 

“Have you actually done those things, sir?”

“I haven't fought a dragon.” Ranrok didn't really count as a dragon fight, at least in Yuder’s mind.

“He did all the other ones, though.” Hinn bent down conspiratorially and loudly whispered, “he's the Hero of Hogwarts.”

Yuder really wasn’t sure where that moniker came from. His professors had done their best to minimize his involvement in Ranrok’s attack on the school, and yet the papers had still given him the title. According to his friends, it had also come from all the errands and achievements outside of pursuing ancient magic, but his classmates had resented him too much for that to be true. 

A few measly favors for others wouldn’t change their opinions so quickly.

In any case, not many people actually remembered that Yuder was the Hero of Hogwarts, even if they knew of the feats associated with the title. 

The young Gryffindor was no exception. “The one from the Ranrok Rebellion? My aunt and uncle told me about it.” His eyes sparkled as he looked up at Yuder. “Wow, you did all that? I never knew! That sounds way more interesting than the goblin rebellions that Binns talks about.”

Kanna’s expression immediately soured. “It should have been covered in history books by now,” she complained. “But Binns doesn't talk about anything else anyway, and they don't want to replace him, so why bother updating the textbooks? He doesn't even get it right half the time…”

Yuder's lips curved imperceptibly.

He knew how much Kanna hated Binns, because she absolutely loved history; she achieved a N.E.W.T. in History of Magic despite having to essentially self-study. The lack of a proper History of Magic professor at Hogwarts annoyed her to no end, and she could easily fall into a tangent when it was brought up.

“If you feel so passionate about it, maybe you should apply,” Finn suggested. “Hogwarts is replacing just about all of its professors this summer. Might as well replace Binns while they're at it.”

“But then we’ll lose a free period!” Hinn pointed out. “Binns doesn't notice when people don't show up.”

Kanna glared at them. “That's another reason he needs to be replaced!”

Gakane laughed. “Come on, Kanna, we skipped his class all the time when we were students. Even when we didn't, we definitely didn’t do any history.”

“Devran accidently lit his books on fire several times,” Yuder added, “and Binns barely ever reacted.”

Kanna slumped, the fight draining out of her. “Yeah, I know. Speaking of Devran, where is he?”

“He's manning the shop for his father,” Gakane answered. “Dermilla asked for wedding planning advice, and since her future mother-in-law wasn't interested in helping…”

Ah, the Hartudes. Dermilla Hartude had fallen in love with Zachlis Hartan, an heir to a pureblood family, during their time at Hogwarts. The two had kept their relationship a secret from House Hartan for many months after graduation.

For a good reason, too—the series of events that unfolded after they were discovered led Yuder and Gakane on an adventure involving a trail of missing people, a gang led by a psychopathic legilimens, ministry corruption, the meddling of two entirely different pureblood families, and even human trafficking, and it had somehow ended with Zachlis proposing to Dermilla the day after his little brother was carted off to Azkaban. 

Zachlis and the Hartudes had practically pledged their loyalty to Yuder afterward, so at least something good had come out of the whole mess.

(He tried not to think about the following investigation, that had ended in him quitting the aurors.)

“Devran actually had a favor to ask,” Gakane interrupted Yuder’s reminiscing. “Before I forget—let me introduce this little guy next to me. This is Jimmy Ocker.”

The young boy fidgeted bashfully as Finn waved his hands dramatically. “Our ickle Jimmykins, a Gryffindor firstie! Well, the year’s over, so he’s not a firstie anymore.”

“A true shame. He’s growing up so fast,” Hinn sniffed. 

“Devran was supposed to pick him up from our house, but Gakane showed up instead.”

“When we heard he was going to meet Yuder, we just had to come along!” 

(Despite the grins on their faces, the twins subtly shifted closer to Jimmy. With how protective they were of their friends, they really ought to have been in Hufflepuff. Though perhaps that was the bias speaking.)

Yuder blinked. “You came to meet me?”

Gakane rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yes, Devran had a favor to ask you, related to Jimmy. I think he’s been having trouble with his spellwork?”

Jimmy’s face reddened in slight embarrassment. “Hinn and Finn told me you taught them some spells,” he mumbled. “I mentioned it to Devran once, and he offered to introduce me. He’s friends with my aunt and uncle.”

Yuder tilted his head. “Well, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help, but I’ll try.”

Jimmy’s head shot up. “Really? Um, you don’t have to do anything if it’s a bother—the twins didn’t tell me you were the Hero of Hogwarts…”

Hinn pouted. “That’s not our fault! Yuder doesn’t like the attention.”

“Ever the humble Hufflepuff,” Finn nodded.

Yuder ignored them. “It’s no trouble at all. Tell me what exactly you’re having trouble with.”

Jimmy squirmed hesitantly for a few moments, before slowly pulling out his wand. “I’m struggling with Charms,” he said. “It was my worst grade last year. None of my friends were having the same issue as me, so they couldn’t help.”

“Your professor didn’t help you?” Kanna asked.

Jimmy grimaced, and it was Hinn that answered for him. “The professor's from the blood supremacist lot,” she sneered. “Ever since he finalized his retirement, he stopped giving a lick about how his non-pureblood students were doing.”

The adults frowned at that. The three of them had been students when the professors were all replaced, so they had an idea of what the twins meant. Though it certainly hadn’t been bad enough for a professor to outright ignore his students.

Yuder couldn’t help but feel partially responsible, as the competent teachers of his fifth year had been injured for his sake. 

“In any case,” Gakane broke the tense silence. “Perhaps Jimmy could give Yuder a demonstration of the issue he’s facing? How about starting with a wand-lighting charm?”

Jimmy nodded and pointed his wand upward. Taking a deep breath, he uttered, “Lumos!”

The light blinded them.

In the few seconds it was active, the charm light sputtered and flashed far brighter than it should have. The students had closed their eyes in anticipation, but the adults took the full brunt of the oversaturated spell. Kanna let out a small squeak, Gakane groaned in surprise, and Jimmy hastily cast the counter-spell with a shout of “Nox!” 

The boy curled in on himself as some of the nearby patrons glared in their direction. “Sorry… it’s been like that all year. I only passed my test because I got the charm to turn on at all.” 

Jimmy demonstrated a few more charms, including the softening charm that made a butterbeer mug so soft you could squish it into a small ball, and a levitation charm that shot the same mug into the ceiling.

Both spells, Yuder noticed, only lasted for a few moments.

“A proper version of those charms would persist after you’ve cast them,” he observed, “so the problem lies in casting them in the first place. Your Lumos from earlier probably would have also gone out on its own, if you hadn’t immediately extinguished it.”

The issue actually seemed familiar, but Yuder couldn’t quite remember why. 

Jimmy deflated. “Yeah, the older Gryffindor students said the same thing. But, none of them could figure out why that’s happening.”

Gakane patted the boy’s head. “It’s because first-years usually have the opposite problem. Normally they have trouble pushing out enough magic to cast the spells at all. Instead, your spells seem like they have too much magic to actually anchor to the target…”

Ah. Now he remembered where he’d seen it before.

“Jimmy,” Yuder began, “Are you able to cast wandless magic?”

The rest of the table looked at Yuder like he’d grown two heads. But their jaws dropped when Jimmy fervently nodded his head. When prompted, he was able to cast a wandless Lumos without any issue.

The young boy was too surprised to be shy. “How did you know?” 

“I know someone who had the very same problem.” The someone being himself, three years ago. For several months, Yuder had been unable to open the trunk he brought home from the aurors. Just after locking it in a closet, he realized he’d carelessly left his wand inside.

Instead of fetching it back out, however, he resorted to teaching himself wandless magic as he readjusted to living in the highlands. Once he’d finally gotten around to getting his wand back, he’d had to relearn how to use that too, because he’d kept pushing too much magic into his spells and had to perfect his control. 

Yuder did not recount his story. Instead he asked, “why do you think wands help wizards and witches cast magic?”

The students and even his two friends held their chins as they thought. “Wands help us focus our magic and channel it,” Hinn said first. “That’s why first years in particular have trouble casting magic, since they aren’t used to channeling it at all.”

"And what do you three know about magical pathways?”

“They don’t teach that until fifth year, I think,” Finn answered. “School’s just let out, so, not much.”

“Right.” Yuder did his best to remember Enon’s lecture from their first summer together. “Imagine, then, that your magic core is like a lake of magic in your chest. Your pathways are the pipes that extend from that lake, down through your arm, and out to your palm, which is the spout. In young children, these pathways are normally very thin. It’s difficult to wash your hands when only a tiny stream of water comes out of the tap; similarly, first years struggle to cast spells because their magic pathways are too thin to produce much magic at once.”

“Except for when they’re emotional,” said one of the twins, “which results in accidental magic.”

Yuder nodded. “The more you use magic, the bigger those pathways get. But that takes time, effort, and a lot of patience. This is where wands come in.”

“Oh! Do wands help—” Jimmy’s nose scrunched as he tried to explain himself. “Do wands make the pipes wider, so more magic can flow at one time?”

“That’s exactly it,” he affirmed. Jimmy lit up. 

Next to him, Hinn’s eyes glimmered. “So, wixen who learn wandless magic are actually just expanding those pathways, to push enough magic through to cast spells?”

“Then, the combination of a wand, and pathways that have been widened by wandless magic, means that Jimmy really is pushing too much magic into his spells,” Finn deduced.

“That’s what I believe as well. Jimmy, try casting Lumos again, but with less effort.”

The boy frowned. “But, how do you use less effort? I just push my magic through…”

“Think of when you were first learning to use wandless magic,” Yuder tried. “You had to struggle to push your magic out, didn’t you? Think of how it felt to use a lot of effort to push your magic out. Then try to repeat it, but doing the opposite.”

Jimmy nodded and lifted his wand. This time the table was smarter and shielded their eyes before he cast the charm. 

The first time went just as badly as before. The second time the glow was only too bright at the start of the spell, before it lowered to a manageable level. By the third time, a soft Lumos illuminated the wand tip.

The people at the table cheered lightly at the boy’s success. Jimmy himself was watching the light with awe, turning to Yuder with a wide grin. “Thank you!”

“Of course.” Yuder waited until the boy casted Nox to continue. “You’ll have to hone your control of your magic over the summer. I’ll come up with a list of exercises you can practice each day until you are able to cast both with and without your wand without issue.”

Jimmy looked significantly less excited at the prospect of more homework. The twins rubbed his shoulder sympathetically, having also received a few homework assignments from Yuder during their lessons with him in the past. 

“Why did you keep this skill to yourself, Jimmykins? You could have become the most popular kid of your year!”

“The looks on the faces of the purebloods would be hilarious, seeing a muggleborn use wandless magic before even getting a wand.”

At this, Jimmy began to fidget again. “Well, my uncle told me not to.”

“Eh? Your uncle?”

“Ah,” Kanna said suddenly. “You’re a muggleborn, but your uncle is a wizard? Then, your parents…”

“My father is a squib,” Jimmy admitted. “Or, well, something like that. My uncle is a muggleborn—their parents were muggles. The first time I saw my uncle using magic, I wanted to do it just like him, so I kept trying on my own. He caught me the first time I used wandless magic, and he looked… really scared.”

“Scared?” Hinn’s brow furrowed. “Scared of what? You?”

“I don’t think so. He sent me a letter recently, saying it was okay to tell my friends about it now that my first year was done.”

“How does that make any sense?”

“Hinn,” Gakane interrupted gently. “Think of how the next school year will be different from the last one.”

“Different? Ah… the professors!”

Gakane smiled tightly. “In this case, it’s better that your Charms professor simply ignored Jimmy. If any of his professors had investigated, and learned Jimmy could use wandless magic, they might have subjected him to their, eh, ideology. He may have even been in danger—competent muggleborns are not good for certain political agendas. Also, as Jimmy is muggleborn, his parents would have almost no power to keep him safe.”

“So now that they’re leaving, Jimmy’s not in danger of that anymore.” Finn frowned. “But how can Jimmy’s uncle know that the new teachers won’t be just like the old ones?”

“For one, the hire of new teachers has to go through the school board of governors, and the older families have less control over it now,” Gakane explained. “But mostly, it’s because of the new headmaster—Kishiar la Orr.”

Yuder blinked curiously. The name sounded familiar, and the surname… “Who?”

Gakane huffed in amusement. “The Lord of the Ancient House of Peletta? Little brother of the Lord of the Royal House of Orr?” He shook his head. “I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him. He left England as soon as he graduated Hogwarts to pursue further education in another country. I think he was a professor at Beauxbatons, which helped him get elected headmaster by the board of governors.

"Anyway, even if he’s Lord Peletta, he’s still a member of the Royal House—which is in staunch opposition to the other four Ancient Houses. Anyone he hires to serve as Hogwarts professors will at least be guaranteed to keep students out of politics.”

A comfortable silence fell upon them as they processed all they’d heard. 

Great changes were happening to Hogwarts over the summer. 

No one, from the smallest First Year student, to the highest noble Lord, could escape it. Hogwarts was the best wizarding school in the country—practically every witch and wizard attended the school in their childhood. The experiences of Hogwarts' students affected the future of the entire wizarding world. 

Apparently the wave of change was all being heralded by one man—this Kishiar la Orr, a distant figure who only just returned into the political limelight. 

Even Yuder had heard of him throughout his efforts to learn his way around pureblood politics—brash, lecherous, and impotent, they said, but such a person would not be appointed Hogwarts Headmaster. Yuder wondered briefly what this new stranger would bring to the valley. With how involved the Hogwarts residents tended to be in the highlands, perhaps their paths would cross someday. 

It would be up to the future Yuder to deal with that, however—right now, he had a phoenix hatchling to rescue.

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of the Ranrok Rebellion, Yuder had been asked to take a Gringotts inheritance test to prove his identity. Being his staunch supporters, Kanna and Gakane had decided to take the test alongside him.

The results were… enlightening.

For one, they learned that Yuder’s father had been a squib. His grandfather had been a wizard, which explained why he exposed Yuder to magic in his childhood, despite believing Yuder himself to be a squib.

They also learned that Kanna was not a muggleborn, as everyone had assumed. No, she was a halfblood—her father was the pureblood Lord Gallon who abandoned her muggle mother without a single explanation.

Gringotts was required by law to report the results of the tests, and because Kanna was an orphan, the Ministry of Magic placed her in the custody of her father’s family. Instead of returning to her mother’s home, she’d have to go to them.

Kanna had started the summer tentatively hopeful that she still had a family to be a part of.

She had returned for their sixth year quieter, paler, and thinner.

Yuder and Gakane knew something had gone wrong, especially with how sparsely she had written to them over the break. But she was determined to deal with her issues herself. They persisted in trying to get her to confide in them, assuring her that they would stick by her no matter the circumstances and no matter who they were up against.

It only paid off after Christmas. She had been forced to return to House Gallon for vacation, to keep up appearances, and returned to school a mess. 

Secluded in the privacy of the Room of Requirement, she had sobbed into their arms about the treatment she received—being treated more like a servant than family, enduring the scathing looks of her stepfamily and the harsh dismissal of her father. She was told to disappear into the background as if she were never there. She barely had enough time to complete her homework after enduring all the chores forced upon her. 

She had celebrated Christmas with the house elves instead of the Gallons. Whenever they had no choice but to introduce her to other purebloods, she was dressed up like a doll in a glass case—polished when being show off, then hidden away in some closet when no one was around.

Both boys suppressed their anger in favor of comforting their friend. It was a quiet rage, but it festered under their skin, promising retribution against those who dared to attack one of them.

Kanna herself insisted it wasn’t necessary; she only had a year and a half until she was free of them, after all. And there was scant action a group of Hogwarts social outcasts could take in the face of the law, Ministry, and new professors who regurgitated the pureblood ideology of the Ancient Houses. 

In the end, it was Enon who came up with a plan to keep Kanna safe from her relatives. He offered to help her become an animagus, as she could potentially hide from them in her animal form. The Potions professor begrudgingly agreed to help Yuder and Gakane undergo the process as well, after their vehement insistence.

Thus emerged the local legend of the Three Musketeers.

Kanna had become Noctua, a brown short-eared owl. Noctua was excellent at hiding from the Gallons and even spying on them in the many places owls could perch without being noticed. She often flew to her friends’ houses during the summer and returned at night, instead of spending all day at the manor.

Gakane had become Chara, a red-brown retriever with a patch of white on his chest. As a rare breed, Chara could only do reconnaissance when doing his best impression of a filthy stray dog; this impression worked incredibly well, however, and many people let their guards down around him. He was also a favorite among Gakane’s siblings.

Yuder had become the most notable of the group: Felis, the pitch-black kneazle.

Animagi taking the form of magical animals were practically unheard of—though Yuder imagined that many of those animagi chose not to reveal their forms to the world. Felis was notable for lacking the flat face of many wild kneazles, instead being leaner and sleeker. One paw was a light gray instead of black, mirroring the peculiar scar on Yuder’s right hand that he received upon absorbing the energy of the repository under Hogwarts.

(He had tried to contain it as the Keepers wanted. But Ranrok had destroyed the repository in an attempt to keep goblin metal away from wizardkind, and he had no idea how to make a new one. 

What other choice did he have? The unstable energy would have destroyed the school still full of students and his friends. It was through sheer will alone that Yuder had managed to separate the hurt and hate from the ancient magic so that it wouldn’t corrupt him like it had with Isidora. 

He absorbed as much of the immense magic as he could. Then he dispersed it into the ground, or used it to strengthen the wards that made up Hogwarts. There was so much energy that he hadn’t even noticed the significant amount that had disappeared from him, escaping through a connection buried so deeply that Yuder had no idea it was there, and would not know of it for many years.

He stored what remained of Isidora’s work—the hurt and hate and pain —in his own body, in a little container deep within him where it couldn’t escape. He had become a sort of living repository, according to the goblins who reclaimed their creations. 

But the emotions had leaked out of their cage and festered. They lingered and tainted him, until the day he finally had enough. 

Yuder returned to his cottage, and took the time to rediscover the ancient magic he had suppressed all those years. He learned to purify, rather than just to contain the pain—he learned to accept that the darkness was a part of him, of everyone, instead of trying to destroy it as Isidora had.

But he did not seal the ancient magic away, as the Keepers insisted. No, he himself was a Keeper now, and this magic could do great things when its use was studied and properly monitored. Just as Percival Rackham had shared the magic only he could see with his closest friends, Yuder would not bear this burden alone.)

Noctua and Chara were excellent at reconnaissance, especially because poachers were less likely to capture non-magical animals. But this also meant that they were useless for infiltration. Felis had the opposite properties—poachers, especially the less experienced ones, would chase after him with wild abandon and practically drooled as they brought him into their tents.

As such, when rescue missions such as this one appeared, it was up to Felis to infiltrate the poacher camp. His fellow Musketeers would infiltrate in their human forms and perform the other tasks required to take the poacher ring down.

Poacher hunting, as Professor Caspirl liked to put it, was the closest thing Yuder had to a job. He had a… vested interest in keeping the highland poachers in check. Not only for the many innocent beasts that called the highlands home, but also to prevent the absolute terror that befell the highlands under the rule of Rookwood's Gang. This place was his home and had embraced him despite his many mistakes. 

New poaching laws enacted by the Ministry had made poaching a significantly harder lifestyle for many. But it was still profitable enough that poachers would always haunt the valley, and so Yuder had taken it upon himself to oppose them. His friends had taken one look and immediately vowed to help him. 

They were the ones who ran the 'Pest Tracker' team, responsible for gathering information on all the poacher groups in the region and keeping them up to date. Whenever a poacher group got too big or too powerful, they would be one step ahead.

Most of the time they would be able to gather enough evidence to convince the DMLE to handle the poachers. But occasionally situations like this one arose, where a particularly special beast was in extreme danger. Those cases were then handled by the Three Musketeers—another nickname coined by Hellem. 

(All of their group names had been granted by Hellem, actually. She claimed it was for organization, but Enon said she just wanted to have fun. She responded by whacking him with a notebook.)

Infiltration was Felis's specialty, and it relied on the poachers remaining unaware of his animagus form. He always ensured there was time between his capture and his sabotage. It was better that the poachers suspected a group of vigilante wixen, rather than one of the creatures they had brought in just the day before.

So here Felis was, the very early morning of the next day, trapped in a cage.

Last night Kanna had begrudgingly applied a color-changing charm—the black fur was far too conspicuous—and snuck him into one of the cages on-route to Horntail Hall. He and several beasts were shuffled into a back room, cages stacked high and stuffed to the brim.

The activity in the tent died down significantly past midnight. Felis waited until he heard the snores of the nearby guard before proceeding.

Animagi could not normally use magic in their animal form. The accepted explanation was that animal bodies did not possess the right magical pathways to channel wixen magic. The experiences of the Three Musketeers seemed to confirm this theory—namely because Yuder could only perform kneazle magic while he was Felis. Their magic was blocked from them completely, except to transform back.

Well—their wixen magic was blocked.

Ancient magic was not limited to wixen, as obviously demonstrated Ranrok. But it was not limited to beings, either. After Kanna and Gakane were brought into the Keepers, the three had learned that their animal forms were still capable of wielding ancient magic, albeit extremely inefficiently. 

The young Keepers had spent much time experimenting with their newfound magic, trying to understand as much as they could. It was through that experimentation that they discovered just how susceptible ancient magic was to intent. They each had their own way of utilizing it, and the magic seemed to absorb that intent, eventually developing into unique abilities. 

(It was Yuder who realized their abilities weren't quite ancient magic anymore—other Keepers couldn't replicate unique abilities with pure ancient magic. But they weren't using wixen magic, either. 

Instead it was personalized to them, similar to Ember’s teleportation. 

Kanna had theorized that the unique abilities were theirs, in the way wix magic was wixen, elf magic was elven, goblin magic was goblin, and so on. 

Gakane had likened it to a phenomenon known as family magic—wixen magic that adapted unique properties over many generations, only wielded by a single bloodline.

Perhaps their ancient magic had transformed using a similar process? Just wixen could use both wixen magic and family magic, the Keepers could wield both ancient magic and unique magic.)

The Three Musketeers found their unique powers were far easier to wield than pure ancient magic was, in both forms. This only made their infiltration missions even easier—especially for Felis.

He had no need of alohomora to open the lock on his cage. His unique ability allowed him to command natural elements, so all he had to do was move the metal of the lock itself.

Thankfully his cage was near the back of the room, so as long as the lock was still hanging—even though it wasn't actually locked—it wouldn't be noticed for a while. Felis carefully moved around the feet of the sleeping guard and sneaked through the quiet halls.

The arena itself had been devoid of dragons when they passed earlier, but the kneazle kept his guard up. Horntail Hall was a significant location for poachers. It was also dangerous to traverse to, being in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. They wouldn't have chosen to take over the hall without good reason.

Good reason indeed—Felis's stomach dropped upon seeing the black metal collar in one of the back rooms. It was mounted on some supply crates, pulsing with an ominous red light that only he could see.

Ensuring no one was nearby, he briefly transformed and put his hand on the collar. The tainted ancient magic hummed as Yuder pulled it out of the goblin metal and into himself.

Yuder had learned much about goblin culture from the many goblins, friend and foe, that he encountered. While destroying Bragbor's journals, he had a grim realization: the repositories were goblin-made, and the goblin nation knew about it. 

Ultimately they would never stop wanting to reclaim the repositories, because in goblin culture an item belonged to its maker and not its buyer. If Yuder ignored that, it would resurface in the future and cause even more conflict—potentially bringing the existence of ancient magic into the wrong hands. But now that he had an alternative way to store the magic in the repositories, they weren't needed anymore.

The goblin nation had been somewhat desperate to broker peace after Ranrok's attack. The goblin king, Ragnok, made it extremely clear that his nation did not support Ranrok’s Loyalists in any way and would punish them as heavily as was allowed by the treaty between them and wizardkind. It was to be expected, as Ranrok had trampled over wixen and goblins alike if they stood in his way.

Still, the goblin nation couldn't help but be disgruntled by the events. Like in every other conflict, they demanded all goblin-made objects be returned to them, and like in every other conflict, the Ministry resisted.

But at the same time, both wixen and goblin nations were looking to make amends with the biggest victim of Ranrok's rage (and their incompetence): the Hero of Hogwarts.

Yuder had taken the initiative to reach out through Gringotts. He wanted to respect goblin culture and resolve his predicted ownership problems before they happened. So they struck a deal: the goblins would be allowed to collect their crafts, including both repositories—as long as Yuder was allowed to inspect them first. This would allow him to absorb the tainted ancient magic while returning the objects to their makers.

The Ministry had agreed to its part of the treaty in order to avoid war and repair its shattered reputation. Any goblin products, confiscated in future Ministry operations and related to Ranrok’s Loyalists, would be returned to the goblin nation and subjected to the contract between them and the Hero of Hogwarts.

The contract was the reason they watched this poacher group so closely. Rookwood had controlled dragons with goblin-made collars fueled by ancient magic. It wasn't unusual to think some of those collars had been lost in the years following Ranrok’s death and that some criminal would jump at the opportunity to start up another dragon-fighting ring.

Goblin artifacts popped up often whenever the Three Musketeers had to infiltrate a poacher base, and they made sure to give Gringotts an anonymous tip so they could force the Ministry to hand the items over.

It seemed he would be doing the same after this raid.

Having purified the taint and absorbed the ancient magic, Yuder transformed back into Felis and continued to scout the area. Gathering proof of the poachers’ dealings was the job of the other two Musketeers, who would surely be sneaking to an executive office somewhere on the other side of the tent. Felis’s mission was to find and escape with the baby phoenix before anyone noticed.

He checked every room he passed, trying his best to sniff out the phoenix’s trail. He passed plenty of oddities on his way—a glass case of swooping evil that fluttered as he walked by. He saw a group of fwoopers in a cage that had been charmed with silencio. The creatures all looked downtrodden and wrong, sitting in those cages, but releasing them would do more harm than good at the moment.

While making his way across a room with a view of the arena, a strange coldness washed over him. He barely stopped himself from flinching upon seeing a dementor of all things trapped in an enchanted glass box. Felis did not know how they captured the thing, nor did he want to know what they were going to do with it.

The animagus form weakened the impact of the dementor's despair-inducing presence, as emotions weren't as complex to animals. Even then, Felis was already shivering. He sped across the room as quickly but silently as possible.

It was after he was out of the dementor’s influence that he caught the familiar, smoky scent of the phoenix. Following his nose, he came across a room with the door slightly ajar. He pushed the door open with his head…

…just in time to see someone trying to coax the hatchling into a nab-sack.

Felis darted under the table at the center of the room before the man noticed him.

He held the nab-sack up to a small metal birdcage, its door wide open. The fluffy phoenix hatchling inched closer and closer to the door at each encouraging word from the wizard. After just a few more seconds, the hatchling was sucked in. The man shrunk the bag and placed it in a pocket with a relieved sigh. 

He then got on one knee and looked under the table. His eyes honed onto the kneazle, whose hackles raised.

“Hello there,” the man greeted softly. “You’re a peculiar sight for a poacher camp. Though I suppose I am, too.”

Though he had brown hair and unremarkable features, the man towered over Felis even while kneeling. He wore dark clothes and a simple black cloak, similar to the dark attire the Musketeers were using. 

Brown eyes shrewdly scanned his body for injuries. Seemingly satisfied, the man smiled serenely.

“I’m here to help,” he continued. “I don’t think they’d be happy to find either of us wandering around. Make sure to keep quiet, alright?”

Felis relaxed.

The abilities of animagus forms occasionally changed a wix’s human form. Kanna, for example, had heightened vision and hearing after becoming Noctua, and Gakane’s sense of smell as a human had improved significantly. Those were expected and quite well documented; but animagus forms of magical animals were criminally understudied, so people had no way of knowing whether or not magical abilities would pass over to the wix.

Until Felis came along.

His sense of smell had improved as well, but more notable was that he had also gained the kneazle’s magical abilities. That was—he had the ability to judge whether someone was trustworthy in both forms.

It was especially strange because it was thought to be kneazle magic, which should be totally incompatible with humans. But, of course, Yuder was familiar with wielding magic others couldn’t. 

In this case, improved by being in animagus form, Felis’s intuition told him this man was trustworthy. 

Still, Felis did not let his guard down completely. He didn’t know who this man was, what he was doing sneaking in a poacher camp, or what his intentions were with the phoenix hatchling. But as the stranger was in possession of the creature he was meant to save, Felis had no choice but to stay near him.

The man got to his feet and began exploring around the room. Felis waited a few moments before coming out from under the table and jumping onto it. The man glanced at him curiously while scanning the pages scattered about.

"I only came for the phoenix," he spoke up. It took a moment for Felis to realize he was talking to him. "But I might as well get something substantial on these criminals, get the DMLE moving a little faster."

Felis made a non-committal mrow, belated realizing he didn't have to respond. The stranger didn't seem to notice anything off; his lips merely quirked up before he continued to explore the room.

They seemed to be in some kind of meeting room. Correspondence between the poachers and their clients were piled at the head of the table, as well as notes on their targets. A corkboard with a map of the forest hung on a nearby wall, with marks for common paths, beast dens, and other camps.

All things that the Pest Trackers already knew about, but it probably would be helpful to include in the report to the DMLE.

After casting Geminio to duplicate the letters, the stranger considered the map for a moment. He couldn’t duplicate it without taking all the pins and markers off…

Felis pushed a smaller map on the table towards him. The man looked down at it, grinned, and made a copy of it. He then marked the camp locations on it before stuffing it into another pocket in his cloak. 

They continued exploring the room. Felis noticed a letter sticking out from the top shelf and jumped up to investigate. He continued this for the other shelves, bringing relevant papers down to be copied. He even located a secret compartment in the wall, to the delight of his temporary wizard partner.

There was quite a lot of evidence in this room, now that he thought about it. Was it lazy or arrogant of poachers to just leave all this evidence lying around in a meeting room—?

Felis was snapped out of his musing when a hand entered his line of sight.

After a short moment, the man ran the hand along the kneazle's back. His smiled caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle.

“You’ve been very helpful,” he murmured. “Like a nature spirit helping a clueless protagonist on his quest. I suppose my adorable assistant doesn’t like poachers any more than I do.”

Felis tilted his head. The stranger's face contorted as he held back his laughter, and he rescinded his hand.

"Right, we've got what we came for." He patted the cloak pocket containing the nab-sack. “Now, why on earth would they keep a phoenix in a meeting room of all places—?”

“Birds are great for catching rats.”

The loud crack of apparition split the air. Both he and Felis whirled to face the door.

They could practically hear the gleeful grin covered by the poacher’s mask. The stranger shot a spell, but the poacher apparated backwards—they could see her at the end of the hall, holding her wand up. 

“Time’s up, you filthy pack hunter!”

Ah. That was the name the poachers used to refer to the Pest Trackers and Musketeers, knowing they were a group united to ‘hunt the Poacher Pack.’ 

The room was full of documents left strewn about. There were letters all along the highest shelves, poking out just enough to encourage a thorough search. The map was left pinned on the wall instead of spread out on the table—inconvenient to remove but too valuable to leave alone, so they'd spend time figuring out how to copy it. There was a secret compartment in a meeting room.

This was a trap for him, and a stranger had been caught in it instead.

He honestly didn't expect such a level of intelligence from poachers.

Although it wasn't all that good, either. Felis had infiltrated enough poacher camps to unofficially call himself a professional. The stability of a poacher's income came from their secrecy, and they did not make a habit of leaving important letters lying around just anywhere. If he had been able to transform into his human form, he would have noticed the strangeness of the room. Unfortunately being in his animagus form meant complex thoughts were a bit more difficult (and the stranger had been quite distracting). 

He could berate himself later. Right now, Felis had to get himself and the stranger—who had the phoenix with him—out of the tent alive.

Cat and wizard launched themselves through the door and into the hallway. The man cast a wordless Protego and tensed, expecting to be surrounded by poachers. 

But it was just them. All the woman did was wave her wand in an unfamiliar pattern. The man sent off another array of spells as Felis dived to hide under some crates.

The poacher dodged to her right and the spell impacted the wall behind her. She shot a Reducto from behind a table—the man rolled and sent a basic cast in the same moment.

It bounced off her shield and she shot a Levioso. Another shield sprung up and the spell deflected back to the poacher, and the man immediately fired a Stupefy.

Well, Felis assumed it was a Stupefy, but the color of the spell was different than what he was used to—with the same darker feeling as the stunners shot at him by the dark wizards he'd fought...

They exchanged more blows. Eventually the man was able to shatter the woman’s shield with Levioso. She let out a shout upon being stuck in the air, and the man readied his wand to dispatch her.

A freezing dread suddenly fell over Felis, as if he'd fallen through the surface of a frozen lake.

She’d set the dementor free.

So that’s why it was there.

Felis shivered. The spirit hissed as it turned the corner of the hallway directly behind him, but it passed over the kneazle like a cold breeze. The poacher had started cackling as the wraith rushed towards the alarmed wizard—

—But it flew past him, too.

Her laughter quickly turned into screams as the dementor latched onto her.

Foolish woman. Dementors weren’t mindless beasts that attacked the first thing they saw. They ate happiness—her glee at having caught them was likely irresistible, compared to the intruders whose cover was just blown.

Also, dementors only followed the orders of the person who promised the most happiness for them to consume. She had imprisoned one without making this deal, evidently. (She probably would have made far more money off a cage that could trap a dementor than any poaching.) 

Felis was a embarrassed to have fallen for a trap set by such a fool.

The wizard stumbled backwards, likely disoriented by the dementor’s influence. The confident calmness he'd displayed during his duel with the poacher was completely gone. Cold sweat was already trailing down his face. He only managed to tear his eyes away from the screaming poacher when Felis meowed urgently at him.

They needed to leave.

The man’s hand was trembling just slightly as he held out his wand and yelled, “Expecto Patronum!”

A flickering thread of light came out of the wand, before fading into nothingness. 

The patronus charm was a difficult spell. Being able to cast even the weaker, non-corporeal form was a sign of great magical prowess. The main purpose of a patronus charm was to ward off dark spirits such as dementors, but they certainly weren’t common creatures to encounter. As such, many wizards chose not to learn it. 

But... the stranger had infiltrated a poacher camp.

He was clearly experienced in dueling—he hadn't been tired at all, dueling the poacher before the dementor appeared. Every spell he used had been wordless and with minimized wand movement. Yuder had only witnessed it for a few moments, but he could tell the man's skill was near that of the senior aurors he'd witnessed in action. This man was magically powerful. 

So to struggle to cast even a non-corporeal patronus? Barely even a wisp of light?

(“Dark wizards can’t cast the patronus charm,” Enon had mentioned once, during their summer training. “It’s part of why dementors are used to guard criminals. The… mental toll that the Dark Arts takes on a person renders them unfit to cast the charm. That same mental toll makes them highly sensitive to the dementor's influence, too.”)

The man took a sharp breath and tried to cast the spell again, with a similar result. Giving up on the spell, he instead turned to rush down the corridor the dementor came from.

But by then it was too late. The man had only just managed to reach the end once the dementor was finished, and it immediately turned towards him. He stumbled once again as the dementor approached and sucked out whatever happy memories remained in him. The toll was so great that the man slumped against the wall, desperately scrambling backwards as the wraith approached.

Felis leapt out of his hiding place. (The need to keep his secret never crossed his mind.)

It was with practiced ease that Yuder rolled into his transformation and stuck out his wand.

He thought of the night he and his friends had first transformed into their animal forms, tumbling over each other and laughing at how free they felt; he thought of seeing Enon emerge from the rubble of the Keepers’ Caverns, worried and injured but alive; he thought of the first time Ember had cuddled into his lap after taking a Killing Curse for him, allowing Yuder to wrap shaking arms around him.

Immediately, a white light flooded the dreary corridor.

A silver kneazle rushed down the corridor with a yowl. The dementor screeched (a horrid sound that made shivers run up his spine, like hearing nails on a chalkboard) and fled from the pouncing patronus as quickly as it came. The kneazle chased after it for a while, before returning to approach the stranger who slid to the floor.

Golden blonde hair positively glimmered as the light of the silver kneazle bounced off it. A large hand hesitantly lifted, as if to touch the creature, before dropping back onto the man's leg. Sweat was trailing down his extremely pale and handsome face.

Ah—he had been wearing some sort of glamour enchantment, earlier, instead of a mask. It must have deactivated during the stress.

The man closed his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing heavily. Yuder canceled the spell, the patronus dissolving into nothingness.

Ruby red eyes met Yuder’s violet ones.

Something deep within them stirred—a missing piece slotted into place, an emptiness filled, a satisfaction as if something had been waiting for this for a long time.

(“Laurel wood and phoenix feather core,” Ollivander had mumbled under his breath. “You are destined for great things, no doubt. I never thought I’d see this wand choose a master in my lifetime.”

“Why not?” Yuder had enquired.

“I sold its brother just over a decade ago,” the old man responded, “which is quite unusual for those kinds of wands. Brilliant young man, that one is—perhaps you’ll cross paths with him someday.” )

“You’re—” the blindingly beautiful stranger bit out between his gasps, ”—hired.”

Yuder blinked.

"What?"

The man took a deep breath without breaking eye contact. “Hogwarts is still in need of a Defense professor,” he elaborated. “A career of poacher hunting makes for quite the resume, no?”

Whatever Yuder was going to say in response was cut off by an earth-shattering roar. 

So the poachers had caught a dragon. Yuder could only assume Kanna and Gakane had freed it in their quest to collect evidence. Rather out of character for them—the dragon would have been freed by the Ministry later, if they got out undetected.

“Perhaps we can continue this at a later time,” the handsome man said.

Yuder helped him to his feet, and they retraced their steps through the maze of cages. Most of the poachers had been drawn out by the rampaging dragon, so they didn’t run into anyone. 

At the tent’s exit, they encountered Gakane and Kanna, as well as a red-skinned man—a friend of the stranger, evidently, seeing as their eyes met as soon as they spotted each other. 

They had no time to speak as the enraged shouts of the poachers rang out from behind them. The group of five ran as fast as they could, the two strangers following the lead of the Musketeers as they navigated the forest with far more familiarity. 

The sky had only just lit up with the amber hue of dawn when they reached a safe clearing to rest.

“Please please please tell me you got the phoenix,” Kanna groaned as she pulled her mask down to breathe. The edges of hers and Gakane’s cloaks were singed, as was the attire of the other stranger. 

Yuder pulled his own mask down and pointed to the handsome stranger. He got the hint and showed off the nab-sack. 

Gakane slumped onto a log in relief, his own mask pulled down as well. “Oh thank Luma. That was horrible. How did you two survive freeing a dragon the first time?”

“Poachers stole her egg,” Yuder deadpanned. “So we gave it back.”

Kanna shook her head. “We were also very reckless and stupid, and got lucky that she didn’t just eat us alongside the Ashwinders.” 

(He and Kanna had infiltrated Horntail Hall, back during their fifth year, and the young Ravenclaw had been quite exasperated with his determination to free the dragon from the poachers’ clutches. 

She later understood his fervor, as Yuder confided in her during their search for the golden snidgets. 

There was a kneazle den near his cottage that he used to visit often, especially after his grandfather passed. The Poacher Pack had killed them all for their fur. He stumbled upon them gutting a kitten’s corpse—

That was the day Yuder performed his first ever bout of accidental magic.)

The two strangers shared a look, before the handsome stranger addressed his friend. “Freeing a dragon was not a part of the plan.”

“We didn’t have much of a plan in the first place,” the other man huffed. “I was searching for the main office when I ran into these two. We hid in a room together, and they promised to share their evidence with me.”

“We had just come from the leader’s office,” Gakane said, knowing Yuder was listening as well. “We were going to make our way out then, but then the amount of poachers suddenly heightened out of nowhere—we had to cross in front of the dragon to sneak past, and it must have smelled us because it started thrashing.”

“The poachers would have seen us if we didn’t do anything,” Kanna continued, “so we pulled the chains and ran. We escaped as the dragon breathed fire all over the room… Just at the poachers, thankfully.”

Yuder pursed his lips and nodded. “They’re going to scatter soon,” he warned. “The phoenix was bait for a trap. One of the poachers tried to feed us to a dementor. They’ll know the trap failed as soon as they find the corpse—or if the dementor finds them.”

(The red-skinned stranger looked over at the handsome man in alarm, knowing his capabilities. The handsome man’s reassuring smile was more of a grimace, and he knew there was a lot of chocolate in his future.) 

“A dementor in the Forbidden Forest? The centaurs will be livid.” Kanna sighed. “Did you take care of the cages?”

Yuder nodded. He made it a point to disfigure the cage locks in each room he passed through. They only looked stable at a glance—if the poachers tried to apparate away with the cages, they would easily give way under the strength of the startled creatures.

The handsome man straightened up suddenly, looking at Yuder in realization. “Black cat,” he breathed. “So you were who Hellem was talking about.”

Gakane perked up. “Hellem sent you? You’re new Hogwarts staff.” His expression gradually became horrified as he registered the appearance of the handsome stranger. “Luma’s luscious locks, you’re Kishiar la Orr.”

“Oh.” Yuder tilted his head.That was the name of the new Hogwarts Headmaster. “So that’s why you offered me a job earlier.”

“He did what?”

Kishiar beamed. “That offer still stands. We’ve been having trouble finding qualified teachers lately. I don’t suppose either of you are interested in becoming professors?”

Yuder’s friends gaped at the blindingly handsome man before them. 

It was Kishiar’s friend—Nathan Zuckerman, as Yuder later learned—that spoke up. “He’s skilled with transfiguration.” He gestured to Gakane. “He made many intuitive distractions with transfigured mice, and could undo the spell with the flick of a wrist. Also, he’s an animagus. I could smell it,” he added when the Musketeers narrowed their eyes at him.

“Are you an animagus?” Gakane enquired. “You sort of smell like a dog. Not, as an insult—I meant, in the same way that I assume I smell like a dog to you—”

“No,” Nathan said shortly. “I’m not an animagus.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but for just a moment, his eyes had flashed amber. Gakane must have seen something, though, because eyes widened for a moment. He just as quickly relaxed, though, and smiled. “You were pretty amazing yourself. I barely noticed you moving. I've never seen someone take down poachers so silently and efficiently.”

Nathan said nothing, but his darting eyes suggested he hadn’t expected the praise. 

A tentative silence fell over the group as they rested from their sprint. The sun had only just begun to peek over the horizon when Kishiar spoke. 

“We should get the baby phoenix to Hellem.” He patted his cloak. “Even if the poachers run, we’ve collected a lot of evidence. There are plenty of names on these letters. We got the locations of other camps as well. We can turn it all in to the aurors to have arrest warrants issued.”

Kanna quietly offered to add her own copied letters to the evidence pile. 

It dawned on them just how exhausted they all were. The Three Musketeers, for one, had gotten minimal sleep before enacting their plans. The adrenaline of their sudden grand escape finally dissipated, and they were all looking forward to sleeping the morning away. 

Nathan took the lead in navigating them out of the forest, wary eyes scanning their surroundings, while Gakane occasionally gave him directions. Despite their tiredness, the group stayed vigilant, as the Forbidden Forest could surprise them at any moment.

Kishiar turned to the remaining two Musketeers with a smile. “You mentioned you’ve rescued a dragon before. Care to share that story?”

“You can probably read all about it in a history book.” A thought crossed Yuder’s mind. “Kanna, since Binns is obsessed with goblin rebellions, do you think he might actually cover our escapades…?”

The comment sent Kanna on a tangent. 

Her irritation came out in full force due to her exhaustion, and as Yuder expected, Kishiar paid rapt attention to her. He occasionally probed her with more in-depth questions, such as what exactly did you dislike about the textbook, what do you think a professor should act like, and how would you do things if you were the professor?

The two groups had entered the Forbidden Forest intending to save a phoenix. 

The Three Musketeers exited with appointments for job interviews, and the newcomers with three potential new colleagues.

And if Yuder kept glancing curiously at the new headmaster when he wasn’t looking, that was his business.

(Kishiar la Orr sent his own fascinated glances his way.)