I am a Mage chapter 1.2

A/N: This is the second part of the HP arc! I will publish the first part on Questionable Questing. After this I'm releasing Super Commander 8.

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(Hazel Potter) 

Cirilla was a peculiar woman; she looked so innocent and harmless, but Hazel felt that she was also a really determined and knowledgeable individual. The more Hazel heard her speak, the more she understood how caring and friendly she was.

The woman was angry on Hazel's behalf, and her opinion about Britain seemed to sink lower and lower the more Hazel spoke about her treatment at Hogwarts. Hazel has been disappointed by magical adults many times; only her aunt and uncle have been there for her and been upset on her behalf. The working of the Wizarding World Laws exploited by Dumbledore has made them powerless, though.

“Will you really… help us?” Hazel asked hesitantly.

The brunette replied right away, “I cannot in good conscience leave you alone and be preyed upon by those magico-anarchists you told me about. However, I don't want to hold your hands forever, so I think that I will teach you some magic. I find that the education that you have is quite lacking…”

Before Hazel could say anything, a flash of pain coming from her scar caused her to cry out. “Ouch.”

Cirilla narrowed her eyes and walked up to her. “Hmm. Miss Hazel, come here. I need to check your health.”

“Umm. Alright.” The young redhead gave her consent.

With a growing white hand, the brunette chanted, “Libra.”

White light rolled in waves all over Hazel's body from head to toes. Hermione, Luna, and Neville stared, mesmerized by the scene. When the light show stopped, Cirilla's face was shadowed with anger, and she started to swear in an unknown language. “@*&$#&%!”

Cirilla closed her eyes, breathed in and out to calm herself. When she reopened her eyes, it was to stare into the redhead's eyes. “I have bad and good news, which do you want first?”

Hazel sighed. “Start with the bad…”

An illusion of Hazel's body appeared next to Cirilla, the body was glowing green, and her hair was red. The lightning-shaped scar on the side of her forehead glowed black. It was fascinating to see. 

Cirilla explained what the pulsing black scar on the illusion was. “There's a piece of someone's soul in your scar; it virtually siphons 30% of your magic, affecting your mental faculties and your vision. There's also a risk of possession as it weakens your soul. Hmm, there's some kind of sacrificial protection laid over you that's delaying the process of taking you over as well.”

The brunette showed a special organ at the center of Hazel's chest, next to her heart. There was a golden aura around her entire body that the black thing in the scar was trying to dig into; small wriggling tendrils were fully visible.

“By Merlin’s beard…” Neville stepped back as he saw the representation of what was going on with Hazel.

The redhead now understood what Dumbledore meant about her connection with Voldemort. Hazel touched her scar, worried about what it meant for her. “What can we do?”

Luna was the first to realize what the sliver of soul feeding on Hazel was. “Isn't that similar to the Horcrux we're hunting?”

Hazel was a living horcrux, like Nagini. Hermione widened her eyes at the news. “Oh no…”

Hazel immediately turned to Cirilla and asked, “Can you get it out?”

The brunette nodded. “Now, the good news, I can extract the soul, but I need your permission to do the operation. Can I heal you?” 

Walking up to the brunette, Hazel pleaded, “Yes, please get it out!”

With a snap of her finger and a small word in a tongue unknown to her, a bed materialized. Cirilla laid the redhead on it, and next she conjured a transparent gem. Hazel suddenly felt her body grow numb as white light surrounded her. 

Hermione came into Hazel's field of vision as she looked directly at Cirilla and asked, “Can you explain what you're doing, Miss Cirilla? It would reassure us a bit…”

Cirilla smiled. “Of course. First, I numbed the pain receptors in Hazel's body. Now I am going to cover my hand with a small magical barrier.”

Oh, that was why Hazel's body had gone numb; it was interesting. Cirilla's hand was covered in green light, and then she started to explain as she looked at Hazel's face, “Next, I am going to fish the soul piece with my magic and pull it out.”

Hazel didn't feel anything as Cirilla touched her. Three seconds later, she had a black something in her hand wriggling between her fingers; Hazel could see some sort of tendrils wriggling from it.

“Ewww, it looks like a disgusting leech,” Hermione exclaimed with a disgusted tone.

“I agree with you, young Hermione. Look, now I am placing the soul piece in that diamond.” Cirilla did just that, and the diamond turned into a black one. 

Cirilla then turned it into a pendulum with a silver chain. 

Hazel was curious about what Cirilla intended to do with this pendulum. However, she needed to worry about herself first as she listened to the brunette operating on her. Cirilla's hand ceased to glow green as she said, “The next phase is the easiest. I am going to cast two powerful healing spells on Hazel to fix the soul damage and physical ills caused by the soul piece.”

A staff appeared in Cirilla's right hand with a flash of light, and she started doing some circular gestures with it.

“Basuna.” When she said the word, a brilliant light enveloped Hazel.

Despite her body being numb, the redhead felt as if she had become lighter somehow. Her vision sharpened, and the smells in the air became clearer. Cirilla started gesturing again. The numbness disappeared, and Hazel could finally feel her body.

“Renew.” With a pulsing soft green glow, light exploded in the yurt.

Hazel felt better, little by little, as if she had a day at the spa with her aunt. The little scar and scrapes disappeared from the skin on her hand, and the slight kink in her shoulders that she got since the end of the Triwizard tournament disappeared. The redhead sat up, looking at her hands, closing and opening them. 

Her calluses from Quidditch had disappeared completely, but she was still toned, athletic. Hazel looked up at Cirilla, who had a proud smirk on her face. Hermione and Luna swarmed her, asking questions and touching her.

“Hazel… how do you feel?” Luna said with curiosity and a dreamy look. “Your Wrackspurt infestation has completely disappeared!”

Hermione asked urgently by shaking Hazel’s shoulders, “Hazel, how do you feel?!”

Neville asked as well, “Are you okay, Haz?”

The girl finally answered after taking her bearings, “I feel… I feel as if I have gotten a new lease on life.”

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

Back with Cirilla…

The next day, the children were making themselves busy as they packed up the yurt and hid their tracks. The sky was still downcast, and there was a slight chill in the air. The trees’ leaves were slowly turning orange; fall was upon us.

I took guard duty while they were packing up. The scanning spell that I deployed over the forest allowed me to check for human magic users. There were some at the edge of the forest, and some coming from the north.

It was almost time to skedaddle; the magic I used might have been acting like a beacon for the corrupt anarchists. I've been acting low-key to not frighten the children, but I might have to do some feat of magic that they might deem impossible; however, I wanted them to grow and learn from my example.

Hermione shouted, “Done! Finally, let's get out of this bloody forest.”

“Cough. Very good, children. Come, we need to discuss where you want to go.” I walked up to them, my staff in hand. “I am offering you four choices: France, North America, Australia, and Japan.”

Luna giggled and said with a twinkle in her eyes, “I always wanted to go to Australia and Japan! Those are two places where Dad and I didn't search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkaks yet.”

Hazel looked as the blonde-haired girl jumped in joy. “No, Luna… It's not the time.”

Neville interjected, “MACUSA might be a good location too.”

The Magical Congress of the United States of America (often abbreviated MACUSA) was the magical body in charge of governing the wizarding community of the United States of America. The place was supposed to be better than Britain and France, but the American magicals were more hands-on with their population. 

Hermione raised her hand as if she were in class again, and I pointed at her to allow her to speak. “France might be our best bet; it will also keep us closer to the action.”

“I am with Hermione, France will keep us close to the situation.” Hazel added immediately.

The children looked at each other and began arguing. I rolled my eyes. Those kids were going to lose us daylight. “You have five minutes to decide.”

I sauntered away and jumped into the sky, and bent light around my body. Trees stretched all over the horizon; the kids had hidden deeply in this forest. 

“Hmm.” I detected a spike in the local magical field.

So that's what it feels like when a group of people uses Apparition? I teleported to them and watched five grown males in black clothes and white masks stumble in the forest. They looked quite funny, a bit like those silly masks from the Day of the Dead that I saw in my previous life in Mexico. 

Without even breaking my invisibility, I struck them with a sleep spell and shunted them into my dimensional prison. We will be interrogating them later; well, I say interrogation, but I will just take info from their minds.

Teleporting back into the clearing, I broke the veil of invisibility that I was under and reappeared behind Hermione. I poked her shoulder and she whirled to face me, wand in hand, a spell on her lips. 

But she didn't activate the magic, fortunately for her. She breathed in relief, then glared at me, “You startled me!”

I smiled at her. “You're on guard, that's good. So, have you decided?”

Hermione breathed in, calming herself down with a hand on her chest. “Yes… We're going to France. I know the country, I’ve been there with my parents before.”

I nodded. “Then this is where we will go, the forest is crawling with what I assume to be Death Eaters. We must hurry.”

Even now, the parties were searching for us. Hermione gasped, “Death Eaters! Here?!”

I nodded, then made one of the anarchists' masks appear in my hand. Hermione's face blanched, and she hollered, “Guys! We must go!”

At the same time, I turned southward; using my magical senses, I scryed the way out of the forest, out of the island of Britain, and finally had my eyes land on the European continent, France in particular. I blatantly ignored the north, there was a place I always wanted to go in my previous world, and it was… southern France, to see the Mediterranean sea!

My eyes focused on a city in the region of Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur. I've always seen them in postcards or on TV. Saint-Tropez is 68 kilometers west of Nice and 100 kilometers east of Marseille, on the French Riviera, of which it is one of the best-known towns. 

I locked on the image and spatial coordinates of where I wanted to land. Just in time… Hermione asked me, “How are we leaving, Miss Cirilla? 

“Hmm… like this?” I turned and… punched a hole in space, creating a similar portal that brought me into this world.

“Bloody hell…” Neville exclaimed as the portal formed and stabilized.

“Come on, go in.”

Hazel nodded and straightened her bag on her back and jumped in, followed by Luna and then Neville. Hermione was more terrified than she let on, but she jumped in as well by closing her eyes. I chuckled. She will regret that when she lands.

I followed them, already making plans to obtain money and identification. 

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

(Overview General)

The small group ended up in Southern France in a deserted alley smelling of trash and urine. With a snap of her fingers, Cirilla sanitized the alley, the trash disappeared, and the smell of fresh air hit her wards. The children thanked her and asked where they were.

Out of nowhere, Cirilla produced a postcard and handed it to Hazel. The girl was suddenly Enlightened about their location. The older brunette told them to stay in the alley and wait for her; she was going to go on a walk and search for resources and a place to stay, as there were none of their wizarding magic alleys in this city.  

While wandering under a veil of invisibility, Cirilla used her magic to find drug dealers, thieves, and pickpockets, proceeding to relieve them of their stolen and illegal money and call on the Gendarmes on them with their poisonous wares for all to see.

One hour later, she got back to the alley where she had left her charges and found them sitting on chairs that they had conjured from the empty trash cans. Cirilla became visible again and bade them to follow her; after some quick search, Cirilla brought Hazel and the others to a five-star Spa/Hotel called Lou Pinet and paid over 10,000 Francs to stay there for a week.

The girls were to stay in the Prestige Suite while Neville stayed in the Superior Suite. Cirilla paid in full for the spa service to allow the children to de-stress. Hermione and the others were relieved to be out of the country, but felt guilty that their people were suffering while they could experience a break from the horrors happening in Britain. 

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

(Don't call me Nymphadora - Tonks)

November 20th, 1997
Britain
London
Islington
Night

While in the library, Tonks started to pace; the Metamorphmagus stared at the magical mirror, waiting for Hazel and her friends' daily check-up. Things were getting worse out there for anyone who wasn't pure blood; Tonks herself had been dismissed from the Aurors because of her blood status.

That toad, Umbridge, was having the time of her life spreading misery over the population. She should have gotten the kiss or the veil, but those bastards on Malfoy's payroll in the Wizengamot only sent the toad for life in Azkaban, where You-Know-Who had started recruiting since his return. They broke her out of prison and, since then, put her to work in the ministry to “put the mudbloods” in their places; the laws that she helped pass furthermore turned the muggleborns into slaves and unable to hold possessions in Britain.

Tonks looked at the scar on her right arm inflicted by Bellatrix Black when she assaulted her family's house with a group of Death Eaters. Fortunately, she extracted her father and mother successfully with some of her pals who were dismissed from the DMLE. The ministry is a lost cause; the Death Eaters didn’t even have to do much; their people had been infiltrating it for years, and many of them had been in place since the first war. With Voldemort’s supporters already entrenched in the Ministry and the Wizengamot, all it took to take over the entire country were a few key ‘disappearances’ and liberal use of the Imperius Curse.

The coup was virtually silent. Those who would resist were swiftly dealt with, and the rest just kept their heads down and tried to go about their lives.

Shacklebolt had already moved his own family into Grimmauld for their safety, and some of the people from the order had mimicked him, but they were running out of space quickly.

The rooms were getting filled with the families of the members of the Order. They also came with their house elves and whatever clothes they had on. Food was getting hard to get as the snatchers in the alley looked for them. 

It may be time to think of solutions to escape this bloody country. Tonks thought.

She grabbed her wand from its holster and chanted, “Tempus.”

The time of the day appeared in the air. It was 9:00 PM! Her hair turned white as she worried about the kids. “They're late…”

As she thought, Hazel, Hermione, Luna, and Neville should have stayed and not done whatever task Dumbledore had given them, which didn't matter at all.

Brrrrr. The mirror began to vibrate, signaling that the other pair was being used. Quickly, Tonks touched its surface and injected some magic into it. The cloudy reflection on the mirror's surface cleared, and the face of Hazel Potter appeared. She wore some kind of pajama with a floral motif.

“Finally, cuz! What's happening? You're late, kid.” Tonks felt relief at seeing the redhead. 

Still, she found it weird to see Hazel without her glasses, though. The young woman looked guilty as she said, “There's been a development…”

Tonk feared for the worst. “Did the snatchers try to get you?!”

Hazel nodded, a bit of fear on her expression, and her relief was palpable. “Yes. But thanks to our new friend, Miss Cirilla, we escaped their encirclement.”

Tonks frowned. That sounded like a girl’s name. “Who is this, Cirilla?”

Leave it to Hazel to be lucky and find someone to help her at the most opportune time. The redhead scratched her cheek as she said, “Um, she's not a Witch, she says she's a Mage. It's hard to explain, or I don't think you'd believe me… but suffice to say that Cirilla helped us out by portaling out of the country.”

This was news to Tonks; she was so shocked that her hair became a shade of midnight blue. “What? Where are you?!”

“In Southern France, in a hotel.” Hazel informed the Metamorphmagus. 

Tonks reeled in shock, her hair cycled through a couple of colors before settling back on pink. “H-how did you get there?! Portkey?”

Is Cirilla one of the people who escaped from the Ministry and could craft a Portkey? Tonks thought that those people were already under lock and key. With a look of frustration, Hazel replied, “I just told you, she portaled us there.”

Portal? “What's a portal?”

Hazel explained, “It's like… a wormhole of light between two points in space. You know, like in Star Trek but with magic.”  

That kind of thing shouldn’t be possible unless…“She must be powerful then.”

Hazel chuckled as she scratched behind her head. “You have no idea… Dora.”

Tonks angrily replied, “Don’t call me that, Haz!” Her anger gave way to realization when she asked the redhead, “Wait, if she can do that portal thing, can she help us? Grimmauld is overcrowded right now.”

“One moment, Tonks. I'll ask…” Hazel nodded and turned her face to the left. Tonks heard her speak to her other friend. “Do you think she can, Mione?”

“...”

“You're right. It doesn't hurt to ask her.” Tonks heard Hazel say.

Tonks said out loud. “I'm waiting~.”

Hazel didn't say anything for over a minute before she finally addressed Tonks again. “Miss Cirilla asked how many people she needed to transport?”

“Over 50 people.” Was the immediate answer.

Hazel gasped, turned her head, and seemingly voiced the numbers. For over two minutes, nothing was said between Tonks and the redhead until the ex-Auror was informed of the next steps of the plan. “Miss Cirilla says that she needs to prepare a place to receive everyone first. She said to give her two days to find some land and build a sanctuary. Whatever that is.”

Tonks’s eyebrows raised till they touched her forehead, her hair turning yellow in surprise. “Two days? That fast?”

In two days, they could gather the entire resistance and leave; maybe even tell everyone what’s happening in Britain and gather help from the ICW. Tonks’ train of thought was interrupted by Hazel’s nervous chuckle. “Miss Cirilla is… built differently. She kind of acts like Luna but in a more serious fashion.”

The Metamorphmagus gave Hazel a knowing look. “Oh, like Mrs Lovegood then. I know the type…”

The woman and her husband were in Grimmauld and lifted the spirits of everyone by being weird and making strange jokes. They were good people…

“Yeah, really weird… but don’t worry, Miss Cirilla, she's good at magic, she invented her own spells!” Hazel attempted to reassure Tonks about her savior’s good intentions and capabilities.

Just the fact that the Girl-Who-Lived endorsed the woman was enough for Tonks, though…

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

Back with Cirilla…
November 21st, 1997

I've been volunteered by my charges to help some British people members of a resistance movement escape, which sped up my plan to obtain land and build a sanctuary. I was a bit annoyed with Hazel, but I decided to listen to her argument about having to save Tonks’ group and be able to continue their mission without worries.

That is why I decided to go to France's magical bank at Place caché and use their service, but before that, I needed resources. A big fortune, enough to fund the war machine to retake Britain and rebuild it later, I think.

I liked the children, and I wanted the best for them. So I let them stay at the hotel while leaving a small enchantment which would alert me if they were in danger. It wasn’t something complicated to make, and the elements to craft it were readily available. I simply placed a magical formation around the hotel, which will alert me if anyone who is a marked Death Eater is in proximity or enters the hotel. 

With a scrying and a Gatom spell, I found myself appearing in Place Cachée, right in the middle of the road. I lowered my head, avoiding a flying little person; was that a pixie passing over my head?!

My surroundings were quite chaotic and confusing. My staff appeared in my right hand and I started walking; I had already scried where the bank was. I passed many shops that attracted my attention, there was a wand shop, one that sold headwear, a bar, and a café right next to each other as well. The place was clean, and there wasn’t anything unpleasant besides the display of magic of the people who either apparated or watched performers.

I noticed that they didn’t use the same currency as the British magicals; they used bills and coins, a sign that they were living with the times. The bank was at the end of the alley, it was a blocky grey tower lined with gold used in the fresco adorning its walls. 

*It’s really beautiful in a sturdy way, and I was surprised that no one tried to take some gold flecks off of it for easy money.

I was truly in a Harry Potter fanfic; nothing was like I expected it at all. Even the people around me were displaying their magic to do mundane tasks, and I saw smiles and people moving with purpose. Place cachée was more like a small town inside Paris; when I scried it earlier, there were at least five thousand wizards and witches gathered in total. The rest were all scattered all over France, but there were other magical races present, such as the elves, orcs, and beastkin. 

Yeah, this world was a complete alternate universe of Harry Potter. I stopped before the tall building and noticed that there was a bell next to the door. I also saw the little hammer to make it ring.

I used the hammer, and the bell rang, then I felt myself being scanned by many diagnostic spells. There was a pregnant pause when the diagnostic spells were silenced and the stone doors opened. A short, stocky man with a white beard wearing a sharp black Italian suit appeared. This was obviously a dwarf; the earth magic he emitted was a sure sign of that.

“Welcome to the Dwarven bank of Paris, Miss. What can I do to help you?” He spoke eloquently and clearly in French. 

I responded in the same language, “Hello, Sir. I am Cirilla Andromeda, and I've come to open an account and make a deal with the Dwarven enclave.”

The dwarf looked at me for a long time. He gulped and said, “Well met, Miss Andromeda. Please follow me to one of the offices, we will be able to talk more freely here...”

I nodded. “Show me the way, kind sir.”

The small diagnostic spells this place used must have shown that I was half-Demon Demon and that's why the dwarf was suddenly afraid of me. Nifty little spells they have here, I will copy them. I followed him in the simply decadent interior of the bank; the spatial expansion magic made it look like we were in a space the size of a football field at least.

Despite the place being well lit, I could feel a somewhat austere atmosphere; our steps echoed on the richly carved black marble floor, and we watched the other people, wizards, vampires, veelas, and other magical beings going about their business in the bank, waiting for their turn to speak to the tellers behind counters. 

I was led to a door with a sign inscribed with runes, and my eyes immediately translated their meaning. ‘Chief-Councilor Holaf Brighthammer’ was the name written on it. The dwarf seemed to be an important banker. I was flattered that he came to find me at the door; this meant that he thought that I was dangerous.

The dwarf opened the door, and I saw a richly decorated office with weapons and shields with coats of arms on the walls, as well as shelves filled with boxes and books.

“Please take a seat, Miss Andromeda.” The dwarf offered.

Wordlessly, I sat on the expensive-looking leather chair; it was comfortable. 

“So what was this offer that you had for the Dwarven Enclave?” Director Holaf asked with skepticism. 

I smiled and leaned forward. “I heard that you dwarves liked Meteoric iron.”

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

Cirilla’s vault…

I opened a large portal that led into the asteroid belt, a magnetic field enchantment combined with the portal to contain atmosphere or other gaseous substance, protecting me from the void of space within the vault.

Cutting a chunk of asteroid the size of a football field, I brought the piece of rock into the sizable cavern that the Dwarves have tentatively attributed to my vault. I started harvesting the minerals present in the huge chunk of meteor: gold, meteoric iron, silver, platinum, diamonds, and other rare earths. Separating my mind into multiple threads of thoughts, I started processing the raw ores and gems with my magic, which was a mix of alchemy and telekinesis to work on matter at the molecular level.

Copper, gold, silver, they all were turned into ingots of tremendous purity that I marked with a rune mark and stacked on pallets of wood. I continued piling up the ingots until nothing was left of the football field-sized space rock. It was hard to estimate the monetary value of everything, but I can easily say that it was enough money to fund a war.

The portal was dismissed, and the magical formation dissipated. When I turned toward the Dwarves at the vault’s entrance, they looked at me in shock.

“Miss… no, Lady Andromeda. Can we… check your assets?” Holaf Brighthammer asked her with awe in his tone.

At his side were two other dwarves wearing similar neat business suits to Holaf. When I moved toward them, they stepped back, which confused me; they acted as if I were some kind of dangerous beast.

“Feel free to do it.” I replied with a smile.

The employees at his side made a beeline for the gold and the meteoric iron. Holaf invited me for tea after this, and we began talking about investment. I liked this Harry Potter world so far, I wouldn’t mind staying there and making it my vacation spot when I’m not saving other worlds. It was 1997, and I knew enough about the companies in the mundane world that would rise up like Google, Amazon, Netflix, AT&T, and Apple.

Holaf swore that he would take care of everything for me; as a result, I was given a kind of small magical bag made of Mokeskin that was used for storing items, a credit card that could work anywhere, and a bunch of paper. The dwarves even had an ATM kept in a magic null area to allow the electronics to work. It seems that France’s magical communities are already adapting to the mundane world and coming up with magitek. That’s good, compared to the British, who are still stuck in the 1800s.

Back to more important things, while I was in the bank, I asked to buy some land in southern France; I specified that it needed to have a powerful leyline node, a river, and not too far from a city or village. Holaf called for someone; this time it was a female dwarf wearing an Armani pantsuit and adorned with a lot of jewelry; her name was Brigid Wyrmhunter, and she showed me an interactive magic map of France that showed me a comprehensive list of locations matching my wishes.

In the end, I settled on a large patch of land between the city of Marseille and the Massif de l’Etoile, bordering a river. I snapped up that piece of land; it only cost me ten million Francs; jeez, I can’t wait till everyone uses Euros again. I don’t like to have to convert the sum in my mind all the time.

As I took a sip of tea, Holaf interrupted my current thread of thought by placing a large manila folder on the desk. “Those are the deeds for the land, Lady Andromeda.”

I grabbed the folder, opened it, and indeed, a large area of 7.6 square kilometers in diameter and thirty kilometers away from Marseille was in my name. They even gave me the accurate coordinates to my new land. Raising my eyes to Holaf, I nodded in thanks, “Thank you, Director.”

Holaf waved his hand and gruffly replied, “You’re welcome, Lady Andromeda. Is there anything else that the Dwarven bank can do for you?”

I shook my head. “Not at the moment, no. But I will continue to use your services, you’re way more agreeable than those goblins in the UK.”

Holaf laughed and slapped his mahogany desk’s surface. “A low bar to reach.”

Standing up, I took the folder in hand and put it in my mokeskin pouch. “Thank you again for everything.”

After this, I was led outside the bank, where I used Limnet: A spell that projects images of remote locations onto a screen. On the fifty-inch magic screen that materialized before me, I saw a large meadow bordering a river with woods on the other shore. “I can work with this.”

With a Gatom spell, I teleported to the coordinates. I ignored the snooping of the people watching me disappear in the octagonal Magical formation under my feet. Standing in the meadow I’ve been looking at with my Limnet spell, I started surveying it to look for the perfect location for my home in this world.

I assumed that I had years to stay here, and despite having the power to throw down with gods, I wanted to have the original people supposed to take care of things to help save the world.

Finally, I found a part of the meadow where I can put the foundation for a large town. Raising my hand, I incanted, “Grega.”

A small scarlet flame came to life, hovering over my right index finger; this was the lowest grade of fire magic. I threw the flame at the grassy meadow, and it instantly caught on fire. I deployed a magic shield over the area in the shape of a dome, trapping the heat and slowly starving the fire of oxygen. 

Once the fire was out and no flowers, small trees, or weeds were gone, with a snap of my fingers, the ground flattened, and I conjured rocks and created cobblestone to cover the surface of the burned-out land.

It was like playing Civilization with magic.

My eyes fell upon the center of the cobblestone area, and I started imagining what my house should look like. A grand manor with marbled white walls and blue roofs and towers; a large garden with a magical fountain and some trees, bushes, and flower beds.

“Iris.” I chanted a spell, and a large magical circle appeared on the ground. 

Iris can be used to create various things, from large castles to jewelry and articles of clothing. The key to using Iris is not focusing on an object's outward appearance, but on its inside. For example, if someone wants to create a sword, they must consider its inner structure for it to have any durability.

A large mansion rose from the ground under my eyes. It was large enough, it has 14 bathrooms, 18 bedrooms, and 3 entrances/exits. There was a central magical tower that gave access to a workshop and personal living space.

Looking at the fountain, I watched as it filled with water; the garden, which had been empty, filled with greenery. I modified the magic shield around the area and linked it to the Heart Stone inside the mansion and started enchanting it, anti-divine, anti-scrying, sense hostility, detect brainwashing, barrier defense, multi-dimensional defense. I also made my budding home unplottable and denied the use of flying apparatus such as magic brooms and carpets, and I slapped what the locals call a muggle-repellent enchantment around the area.

I went into more detailed enchantments, such as anti-undead and faerie; I don’t want to have any pixie or vampires able to come here.

My experience also told me to add a guardian ward array, linked to magical statues in the form of knights and angels inside and outside the manor. They were golems created for the defense of this place, and they were enchanted with anti-magic matrices on their bodies and weapons. Spells or any type of magic and physical threats would barely put a scratch on them.

I was done with the outside, now it was time to use Iris to craft the furniture and decorations… I hope the kids will like my efforts to keep them safe…

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

(Hermione Granger)

The same day
Late Afternoon

After a flash of blue light, Hermione and her friends were no longer in the hotel they’d been huddling in and were now facing a large palace, which made Malfoy Manor look like a patched hut. Hermione didn’t know how to describe what she was seeing. Was this always there? She remembered that Cirilla had said that she would buy lands, not a house.

Speaking of the devil… Cirilla twirled on herself and, with a ‘tada’ gesture, said, “Welcome to Little Spira, children.”

The odd-eyed woman gave the Hogwarts dropouts a warm smile. The air was pure, and the sounds of nature made the atmosphere idyllic. Hermione looked at the river five hundred meters away. There was an Embankment and a bridge leading to the other shore of the river, where there was a forest.  

“Wow.” Hazel looked at the large manor with a shocked expression, her mouth was agape.

The lifelike statues wearing dark and silver armor and armed with swords, shields, and flails dotting the garden were strange to Hermione. What's more, she could feel magic emanating from them.

Hazel said, “It looks better than Hogwarts.”

Hermione turned her head to her best friend; she knew that she hated the school because of everything that had happened to her, but didn’t she have at least a bit of wonder left in her about the magical moments she witnessed? Her eyes went back to Miss Cirilla’s home, and the brunette asked herself how the woman got such a prestigious-looking home in half a day.

 “Hogwarts is old, this looks more… modern.” Hermione conceded, but she hoped that there was a library in this house. 

“It's shiny.” Luna giggled. She turned her head toward one of the statues and waved at it.

To Hermione's surprise, the statue waved back. What the bloody hell…?

“How much did this cost?!” Neville asked with shock at the sight of the entire property.

Miss Cirilla smiled. “The land? 10 million francs. The manor? Nothing, I built it with my magic.”

“There are spells for that? Wait, Manor? Not a palace?” Hermione asked many questions, unable to silence her curiosity.

Miss Cirilla was patient with Hermione and replied to each of her questions with a mirthful smile. “Yes, there's a spell for everything, Hermione. In my world, there are no poor Mages. We can have shelter and everything we need with a snap of our fingers.” Cirilla pointed at her new home with a finger. “To me, that’s a manor, a castle, or a palace would be too much for our current uses.”

Hermione laughed awkwardly. “I think our sense of proportions is different, Miss Cirilla.”

Miss Cirilla shrugged. “Follow me, I will assign you rooms. Oh, and don't be afraid, I contracted some spirits to clean the place and make food for us.”

“Spirits?” Hermione asked as they slowly followed Cirilla inside the manor.

The brunette asked herself if those spirits were like the house elves. What was it with magic users and slavery?

“Beings from a higher dimension that contract with powerful Mages. They feed on their mana in exchange for their services.” Cirilla explained.

Hermione stayed silent, apparently she was wrong, those spirits were there of their own volition. When they entered the hall, they saw two white haired children wearing clothes made of sheer material and leather standing there. They helped Hermione and her friends with their coats and jackets, placing them on hangers. 

Then the spirits disappeared when Hermione blinked. Hermione looked right and left, but the two spirits were gone. “Miss Cirilla… Why do they look like children?”

Cirilla laughed at Hermione and patted her shoulder. “Hermione, my dear… they're older than you by a millennium.” 

“Oh…” Now she felt like an idiot; she should have stopped assuming that everything was like in the mundane world. She's been burned for her assumptions before…

Miss Cirilla continued to say with a more serious tone, “They're also more powerful than any wizard or witch. Don't piss them off or disrespect them.”

Cirilla looked at each of them. Luna was the first to say with a chuckle, “I'm not a stupid pureblood who doesn't respect magical creatures.”

“Me neither.” Added Neville.

“I’m not going to disrespect people feeding us and cleaning for us…” Replied Hazel as she straightened her fake glasses.

Hermione had nothing to say, but she nodded, agreeing with her friends.

“Very good,” Cirilla said with a satisfied expression. She continued to lead them inside the manor. Until they went up the staircase and reached the second floor and the left wing of the manor.

Cirilla stopped before a bunch of doors. “Girls, each of you get a room near my workshop. Neville, get a bedroom near the garden, three doors over, he likes plants, right?” 

Neville smiled and said, “Yes, I'd like to be close to nature.”

Miss Cirilla was being considerate of them. Hermione pushed open the nearest door and… saw how big it was inside, there were a lot of books, a study, and a bed. Hermione thought that it was a bit dark when the entire room lit up.

Cirilla chuckled at Hermione. “You can use mental commands to regulate the lighting in your rooms or get something cleaned. Oh, and there's an individual bathroom and a walk-in wardrobe attached to your room.”  

Hermione tested that and focused her mind, and the lighting came on and off each time she blinked. “Sweet. Is it some kind of charm or enchantment?”

“Something like that, Hermione.” Miss Cirilla said cryptically.

She turned to Luna and Hazel, who had done the same as Hermione and were looking inside their room. “Excellent, you found your own space, now…  put down your things in your rooms. After this, we’re going to have some dinner.” 

Neville asked with a spoiled and whiny tone, “We’re going to have more French food?”

Hermione remembered all the times she heard Neville complain about how different French food was; he got used to Hogwarts and his grandma’s home cuisine. In her opinion, French dishes were more delicious and balanced than the British equivalent, but she wasn’t going to voice it to him.

Cirilla nodded. “Yes, or you could ask what you want to the spirit, they’ll make it for you.”

Hermione tilted her head in confusion. “It’s surprisingly similar to how house elves do it.”

House elves are like the legend of the Brownies from Ireland. A little friendly spirit/fairy creature that would come out at night and do chores for you in exchange for food (usually milk or bread). But if you piss them off, they'll make a mess.

If you ever left them clothes as a gift, then they'd put them on and disappear forever. That's why Hermione had attempted to free some of them by leaving clothes around in Hogwarts. An action that made her quite a few enemies amongst the Slytherins.

Cirilla once again destroyed Hermione’s assumptions. “House elves need to train their culinary skills, Wind Spirits don’t… they’re always good at everything because they can pull knowledge from humanity's general pool of knowledge.”

“Interesting.” Hermione took notes of this; she would need to interrogate one of those spirits later.

Miss Cirilla stopped Hazel from entering her room and asked, “Oh, Hazel, dear. Could you lend me your magical tent?”

What is she going to do with the tent? Hermione had noticed how Miss Cirilla kept breaking magical laws as if it were normal. Was she again going to destroy Hermione’s common sense?

“Huh, what for?” Hazel asked while her white owl landed on her left shoulder. The snowy white owl started to affectionately rub herself against Hazel’s cheek.

How did Hedwig get here? Wasn’t she supposed to have been released in the UK because she’s too distinctive? Hermione was baffled for a moment until she saw Cirilla manifest treats from her hands and feed them to Hedwig.

Ah, it’s Miss Cirilla’s doing… Hermione realized that Hazel might have asked the mage

“I'm going to duplicate it to accommodate the people you've asked me to transport.” Miss Cirilla replied as she showed an example by duplicating a plush chair right under their eyes by conjuring some kind of magic circle.

“Oh!” 

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

(Hazel Potter) 

1 day later
United Kingdom
London
Borough of Islington 

Hazel was happy to have gotten a break from the Horcrux hunt; as long as they stayed in France and under Miss Cirilla’s heavy wards, which she called a Sanctuary, they were as safe as could be. From the lavish living room of Miss Cirilla’s manor, they teleported on top of a building as it was late morning, and Cirilla didn’t wish any Muggles to witness them appearing out of nowhere.

The bespectacled redhead remembered the plan: They had already communicated with Tonks to prepare to leave Grimmauld Place. The Order of the Phoenix and the Resistance members were all ready.

“Where’s that Grimmauld Place you spoke about?” Miss Cirilla asked after poking Hazel's arm.

Hazel turned to Miss Cirilla, the beautiful woman had changed her outfit slightly today; she had decided to look more witchy. Hazel feared that her benefactor might start a new fashion trend in Magical Britain.

“Two streets from here at Claremont Square, Miss Cirilla.” Hazel said as she remembered the place, which she had explored with Ron and Hermione. Claremont Square is a square in the Angel part of Islington, London. Its central green mound, hiding a reservoir, is dotted with mature trees on all four sides.

“Limnet.” The Mage used a spell that generated a floating magic screen, which surprised Hazel. On the screen, she saw the streets where Grimmauld Place was supposed to be.

“Mhm, there's some kind of magic occlusion on those buildings.” Miss Cirilla said.

With a thump sound, Hazel facepalmed. “Ah, the house is hidden by something called a Fidelius Charm. A spell used to hide things or places, or to conceal secrets. At least that’s what Hermione told me. Ah! I forgot that you don't know the secret!”

Cirilla tilted her head as Hazel explained in more detail about what the Fidelius Charm did. She was thoughtful as she said, “Oh, nice little piece of magic. But thankfully, it doesn't work on me.”

“Huh?” Hazel couldn't process what she just heard.

However, Cirilla proved it by showing her how Grimmauld Place appeared on her magic screen. “Here, I found the house. Let's go, Hazel.”

Cirilla walked up to the access door on the roof and turned on the light. “The stairs are slippery. One moment, here they're dry now.” She snapped her fingers, and a wave of warmth descended in the building.

Hazel couldn't help but say, “I want to know how to do that.”

“Haha.” Cirilla just laughed at her as they descended the stairs.

The building was abandoned as it seemed that it would be demolished sometime soon. It was a brownstone that seemed to have seen better days forty years ago. Hazel used the Alohomora spell to open the locked door to go outside once they reached the ground floor.

Hazel placed her wand back in its holster at her arm. Cirilla looked at her and said, “We really need to start on wandless magic. You waving that stick all the time is making me want to break it.”

“No! That's my wand! I like it…” Hazel hugged the wand to her breasts.

Cirilla tatted. “A wand should only be used for precision work.”

Hazel stopped walking and complained, “But… I don't know any other way to use magic…”

Her benefactor turned to Hazel, focusing her odd eyes on her. “When we get back, I will make you and the others my apprentices.” 

The redhead gaped at her, shocked by what Cirilla had just said. She didn't offer; the powerful woman just told her what was going to happen, but before she could buck against Cirilla’s authority, the odd-eyed mage frowned. “There’s something up.”

With her mutinous expression clearing from her face, Hazel asked, “What do you mean?”

Cirilla pointed at the empty street. “There’s no one in the streets.

A voice rang behind them, full of insanity and mockery. “Hahaha, for once, there’s someone sharp accompanying you, Potty!”

Both of them turned only to see a group of people wearing black and white masks, and only a woman with wild curly hair bared her face, and Hazel recognized her.

“Bellatrix Lestrange! How are you here?” 

ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ

(Bellatrix Lestrange)

They've won! They are now controlling the Ministry and are taking steps to eliminate the taint of the mudbloods upon the tapestry of magic in Britain. The pockets of resistance were slowly being taken care of, and the neutral party in the Wizengamot was made to… see their view.

But to truly break the spirit and hopes of Britain's people, they needed to destroy their symbol of salvation. They need to kill Dumbledore's legacy! And there's nothing better than to kill Hazel Potter to do so.

This is why she's been waiting at this particular location; Bellatrix remembered the general location of Grimmauld Place despite the Fidelius placed on it as its defense.

And crikey, would you look at this? Potter and one of her mindful guardians were seen walking in the vicinity. So she immediately took her husband and her brother-in-law, as well as some foot soldiers, to capture the two.

Bellatrix called out to the other two women on the street, “Hahaha, for once there’s someone sharp accompanying Potty!”

The two girls turned to them, and Hazel Potter's eyes opened in shock. “Bellatrix Lestrange! How are you here?”

Bellatrix swaggered forward and said in a mocking tone, “Did you forget that I was a Black before being a Lestrange, Potty? That’s stupid, even for you. Grimmauld might be under a fidelius, but I still knew the area where it was still located generally.”

The woman with disheveled hair then stared at the older girl with odd eyes at Potter's side and pointed her wand at her with a grin, “Avada Kedavra.”

The green and lethal spell shot out of her wand, Hazel Potter shouted as she heard it. But something strange happened, the other girl's eyes started glowing, and the green spell completely disappeared as if it never manifested.

The odd-eyed girl walked forward. “You're all a bunch of weaklings relying on weak soul spells.”

She raised a hand and said calmly, “Gresde.” 

A black flame appeared in the girl's hand, and she shot it at them with incredible alacrity. 

Bellatrix jumped out of the way, just in time. The screams of her husband and the Death Eaters she brought with her started echoing in the street. She stood up and looked with anger at the girl, who looked rather unconcerned by what she did.

There were only small mounds of ash left on the pavement where her husband and her brother-in-law had stood with their minions.

That was not normal; usually, Potter was surrounded by goody two-shoes unwilling to kill others. Bellatrix raised her wand and shot a bone breaker curse at the girl.

Once again, the spell dissipated as if it had never formed.

“You, what are you?!” Bellatrix demanded, a rictus of fear etched on her face.

“Demond.” Purple lightning crackled around the girl's hand, and she shot it at Bellatrix, who got hit by it and started to seize as demonic lightning coursed through her body.

But through sheer will, Bellatrix raised her wand and pointed it at Hazel; she at least needed to take the girl who lived with her. “AVADA KEDAVRA!!”

“Reflect.” The green beam of soul magic bounced from Hazel as a transparent wall bounced the magic back at Bellatrix. 

She died instantly when the green beam of death was reflected on her, and everything went black forever.