What's up, everybody?
So, yes, I'm publishing a new story. Why? To see if my muse shuts up and allows me to go back to the ones I've already published.
With that being said, enjoy!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and The Originals belong to their respective owners.
Summary: In her search for a way to help Teddy bear his curse, Selene travels to New Orleans, where packs of werewolves have been gathering.
Selene stared in horror at the scene in front of her. Teddy – precious little Teddy – was being mauled by an adult werewolf who had come out of absolutely nowhere. They were returning from the movies and had decided to take the path that went through the park. They had been halfway through the enclosure when the cursed being attacked them. No, not them. It had gone straight for her little boy.
Tearing herself out of her terrified state, Selene cast an overpowered stunning spell with the elder wand and was relieved when the wolf slumped (for once grateful that the Hallows refused to leave her alone). She made her way to them and, very carefully – so as to not accidentally cut herself on the very sharp teeth – slackened the jaws that were clamped on her godson's shoulder. That done, she pushed the body away from her godson and picked him up, mindless of the blood soaking her clothes, trying to soothe the whimpering child.
She looked around. Thankfully, there was no one nearby to have seen her display of magic, which made things infinitely easier.
"Kreacher," she called for the old and grumpy house-elf. He appeared beside her not a second later.
"Mistress be calling Kreacher?"
"Yes. I want you to take them," she pointed with a hand to the still down-for-the-count werewolf and saw Kreacher's face contort in disgust once he realized what 'them' was, "and bring powdered silver and dittany to the nursery."
Kreacher's head snapped to her and he finally saw the blood she was trying to stem. Without another word, he disappeared, taking the lycanthrope with him. She followed soon after.
She stared at the scarred form of her sleeping godson, head in her hands. What in Merlin's saggy balls was she going to do now? Teddy was going to start Hogwarts come September, and there would be hell to come once – if – people found out he had been bitten. She could almost hear the crowd's cries demanding he be expelled.
Selene ran a hand through her hair. She would have to warn McGonagall. Certainly, she would not only be willing, but also able to deal with it the same way the staff had once dealt with Remus? She could only hope so. Hell, she would be willing to learn how to brew Wolfsbane and provide it to Teddy, if it was what it took. If it would be too difficult for them to transport him to the Shrieking Shack, they could use the floo to send him over and she would deal with his wolf herself.
Speaking of it, she now had a very apologetic and terrified female werewolf in one of the guest rooms now too deal with. And she also didn't know what to do with that situation. On one hand, the young woman – only old enough to have just reached majority – had bitten her Teddy and should be held accountable; on the other, werewolves were still very much ostracized. Selene doubted any 'upstanding' wizard would offer such a 'beast' a good-paying job, and her having to ask for leave every month would have her fired in the muggle word, so she surely couldn't afford the high price the Masters and, specially, the apothecaries set for Wolfsbane (it was almost like they didn't want the werewolves to have access to the potion). Selene had no doubt the girl was of the desperate kind; most werewolves were.
Sighing, she stood and made her way to her 'guest'. She knocked on the door and was bid to enter. She looked at the girl still on the bed. She looked so very small, drowned by the sheets as she was. Selene hadn't been able to get much out of her before other than tears and terror. When she had entered the room, she had been met with bravado and a snarled "Why did you bring me here?". It had soon faded and the wolf girl was left pale once Selene had explained exactly what had happened. Then, it had turned to fear once she realized who Selene was. She was still disconcerted from the scene the girl had made once she dropped to her knees and begged for mercy and for Selene to spare her life.
Selene really hated the image the public had concocted for her after the war. Apparently, she was this epitome of all that was Light and good and pure – the Saviour of Magical Britain – and it was her duty to purge the world of all that was Dark and evil and wicked. Every once in a while, she wondered if they had forgotten she was human, full of flaws and imperfections. She was good, sometimes. But definitely not pure. Or Light.
If there was one thing that the world had taught her after the war – and after she graduated Hogwarts – it was that reality was not made of the black and white that the British wizards liked to spout, but of so many shades of grey that she had been left dizzy when she had first realized it. So, she had done what she did best: she had adapted. And she had thrived.
Unfortunately for her, Magical British had noticed it. And they had made sure she noticed they noticed. It didn't help that she was powerful and single. It seemed that her lack of interest in hooking up with someone made her 'pure image' all the more believable to the public. And she had never known them to have common sense, so here she was… stuck with another mold. As if that Girl-Who-Lived bullshit hadn't been enough. As if they hadn't made her life a living hell since she returned to the Magical World.
And now here she was, left with a girl who was scared to death, peering at her from behind a curtain of crimson hair and holding the sheets with a grip so tight her knuckles had turned white.
"You have calmed yourself. Good," Selene told her as she moved to the side of the bed. She raised her wand and, ignoring the girl's flinch, conjured herself a chair. "What's your name?"
"What are you going to do with me?"
She held back a sigh. Patience, she told herself. The girl had a right to be scared. If she had been anyone other than who she was, the little she-wolf wouldn't probably be alive. As it was, her worry for Teddy's situation was wearing her thin and it was taking all she had not to snap at the girl. "I haven't decided yet."
"Oh!" The werewolf looked down; her fingers had relaxed their grip and were now skimming over the sheets. She hadn't been expecting that answer. "Before you kill me, would you allow me to say goodbye to my brother?" Her eyes went back to Selene as she asked earnestly, and the witch set her jaw so she wouldn't let out a scream of frustration. Hadn't she just said she didn't know what to do? Why was the redhead so insistent she was going to die?
"I'm not going to kill you!" She snapped at the she-wolf, eyes flashing in annoyance, and held back the urge to pull on her hair when the girl flinched and turned her gaze away. Her submissiveness grated on Selene's nerves something fierce.
"I would prefer that you did."
And despite herself, Selene knew why. No matter what she had tried after the war, the system was still corrupt. And the she-wolf was a pretty little thing, with her fiery hair and amber-flecked green eyes. If Selene turned the girl in, she knew what would inevitably happen to her. And no one would care. No one other than Selene. Because the redhead would be considered a beast that attacked the community's Saviour's precious son. No one would hear nor care for the girl's screams. And that, more than anything, made her seethe. The hypocritical sheep would always make her blood boil.
And so, Selene made her choice and sealed the girl's fate.
Andromeda had been wrathful. No, wrathful wasn't enough of a description. She had been so furious that she tapped into the Black Family Magic and went straight for the kill. The only reason Pyrrha – the she-wolf's name – was alive was because of Selene's interference. As she was Lady Black, Andromeda had had to find a way to redirect her spells once Selene put herself between the raging grandmother and the cowering werewolf, lest the Family Magic punish her for attacking her Head of House.
Explaining to the Black witch why the girl had not been turned in or killed had been a headache and a half. But when the older woman started spewing venom about half-breeds and the like, Selene lost her patience and slapped the woman, then reminded the woman in a voice that was a mix of growls and hissing that she didn't care for her Black-influenced spiels, but if Andromeda so much as uttered that word again (it didn't matter if it was in her presence or not! Selene would not tolerate bigotry!), she would kick her out of the family again, despite being the one to reinstate her.
Seeing a colourless Teddy – all white hair and pale skin and eyes – from the angle her face had turned from the force of the slap seemed to drive the message home, for Andromeda composed herself and apologized for her atrocious behaviour, even if she couldn't help herself from sneering every time she caught sight of the redhead. Still, Selene was grateful for small blessings.
The peace, though, was almost broken once Wolfsbane was mentioned.
"I refuse!" Pyrrha snarled, and it was the first time Selene saw the temper that was rumoured to accompany every lycanthrope.
"You are not in a position to refuse, girl!" Needless to say, Andromeda was not taking it well. "Do you wish to see more families destroyed?"
It was a low blow, Selene admitted. But she also knew that, unless a reason was given, she would remain on Andromeda's side.
Pyrrha, to her credit, recovered herself quite swiftly. "I refuse to poison myself just so I won't offend your delicate sensibilities!"
Selene stiffened, attention caught, and even Andromeda was taken aback.
"What do you mean: 'poison'?" She didn't shout her question, demanding attention the way her younger self would've done. Didn't need to. In fact, she could say with certainty that she was the calmest out of the three of them. That wasn't to say she couldn't draw attention to herself and hold it if she so desired. Selene had learnt in her fifth year that she had a knack for capturing others' attention. It had served her well in that sham of a trial. And it would serve her now, for she would be damned if the redhead wouldn't answer her.
Pyrrha looked at her, and she saw how the redhead's breath caught on her throat. "It dulls our senses and kills us slowly," she squeaked, and her behaviour was so different from the one she had been displaying just a few moments before that it took Selene an instant to process what she had been told. She wished she hadn't.
"What?" She asked weakly. Her memories taking her back to the best Defence professor she had had, also the kindest man she had ever met. She chanced a look at Andromeda. The older witch looked as troubled as she felt.
"The Wolfsbane potion doesn't just make it possible for a werewolf to keep their mind during the full moon," the redhead started explaining, still somewhat subdued. "It suppresses the wolf completely."
"Isn't it a good thing?" Selene was sure that the only reason why Pyrrha didn't lash out was because Andromeda seemed to be genuinely confused. As it was, she still pursed her lips in irritation.
"Is any of you an Animaga?" She asked instead. Andromeda nodded, Selene shook her head. While she thought being an Animagus was amazing, she was intent on studying the Old Ways and learn how to shapeshift. She had been reading some of the old texts about how one became an Animagus and chanced upon one complaining about it. Apparently, shapeshifting was quite the complex piece of magic (not that she had ever doubted it). It fell out of favour for being considered too difficult to master. Instead, people decided to settle for partial transfigurations, glamours, potions and what became known later as Animagia.
Basically speaking, Animagia was the process in which magic examined the user – the soul, the personality… everything that made a person, them – and picked up the most fitting animal that would become their 'animagus form'. Quite simpler than studying – either by magic or books – the anatomy and particularities of another being so you could assume their form. For someone whose face was continentally known (she really doubted that she was more than a footnote in the countries not affected by Tom), being able to change her features would be more than welcomed.
"Did you gain anything from your transformation? Better hearing? Better vision?" Pyrrha asked the older witch, who nodded hesitantly. Selene knew, of course, that something of the animal passed to the human (Sirius' barking laughter came to mind), but she hadn't known about the senses. After all, McGonagall wouldn't be needing her glasses if she had cat-like vision, right? "Now imagine those senses dulled to the point you feel like you have cotton in your head. Your once sharp vision, blurred; your hearing, impaired; your nose, useless. This is what Wolfsbane does to us. The transformation is more painful, and the wolf eventually gets sick—"
"Until you end up dead." Selene thought she was going to be sick. Andy didn't seem to be fairing any better than her. "But I knew a werewolf who drunk Wolfsbane for years!" She said, desperate, because what would this mean for Teddy? Her little man had been so excited about Hogwarts…
"And have you ever seen him looking healthy? Aconite is poisonous to us. How do you think it got called wolfsbane?"
And Selene slumped her shoulders, defeated, because Remus Lupin had always looked way too tired. It had been definitely worse after the full moon, when he had definitely looked sick. Always looking too old for his years… Pyrrha, on the other hand, was fine. Sure, she had been tired the day after her transformation, but by lunchtime she had been okay. She didn't demonstrate any of the bone-deep weariness nor did she look older than she actually was. When she had seen Greyback – healthy and muscular and undoubtedly wolf – she had thought nothing of it, as he was known to rejoice in his wilderness. But what if he had had a point?
She ran a hand through her hair, distressed.
"Minerva won't let Teddy attend Hogwarts if he doesn't take the potion," Andromeda stated what was on her mind, and the pained look on her face was undoubtedly mirrored on Selene's.
What they were going to do?
(In the back of her mind she realized that, indeed, the Potion Masters didn't want their potions to sell. Because while they would, undoubtedly, be able to brew many kinds of poisons, many of them wouldn't want to be known for that particular specialty.)
In the end, they hadn't had a choice. It was either the potion or being homeschooled. And they loved Teddy too much to deprive him of the experience that was Hogwarts. He was the heir presumptive of House Black, after all, and would need all the friends and contacts that would come by attending the premier magical school in Britain. He didn't deserve to have his political career (because he would, inevitably, have one) start a fiasco the same way hers had.
The only thing that had Selene afloat – once she had realized she was nobility and, as such, had obligations – had been her fame. She had never been so grateful for it as the moment she realized it was the only thing giving her the minimal amount of leeway from the masses. It was not the fact she was a muggle-raised orphan whose legitimate magical guardian had been illegally incarcerated (no, not that. That would require logic!) that was the reason for their tolerance, but the fact that she had defeated You-Know-Who too many times for her to count (not that the public knew that. Perish the thought! They were annoying enough when they thought she and Tom had only battled four times). They were sure she would know what to do independent of the situation.
Unfortunately for her, she didn't. Dumbledore's machinations hadn't allowed for a politically competent sacrificial lamb. The less she knew – and the less she was encouraged to research for and by herself – the easier it would be for him to plan the path that would lead to her death. And he hadn't needed to do a thing to inspire that behaviour in her; the Dursleys had done all the work for him.
Needless to say, she had been desperate. For she had known that politics was one of the most dangerous arenas in which she would have to fight (even if she hadn't known yet just how dangerous it was), and that no one would teach her without taking advantage of her lack of knowledge.
In a bout of inspiration, Selene had turned to Andromeda Tonks, who had been raised a Black and would certainly know what to do. They hadn't been close then, and Selene was sure that the older witch had only accepted because Selene had promised to reinstate her, her daughter and grandson (though it could have also been when she had mentioned the possibility of making Teddy the Black heir). Once she had been taught the ways of a Black Lady, it had become easier to muddle her way through the many books in the Potter library that explained what it meant to be a Potter and how one should conduct oneself.
And so, she did what she had always had done to survive: adapt. And while that was a skill that her little wolf would need if he was to succeed, his life needn't be the rollercoaster hers was.
At least Teddy would have a friend at Hogwarts (that wasn't a Weasley). After making it clear to Pyrrha she wouldn't kill or brutalize her, the raven had been able to extract some information out of her: she and her little brother, Achilles, were orphans, and she did the odd job to keep them fed and clothed. Selene's heart went out to them, and once she had managed to get Achilles' location out of the stubborn she-wolf, she brought him to Grimmauld Place. He was as red-haired as his sister and possessed the same green eyes (sans the amber, indicating he hadn't been bitten), but, unlike her, was a complete sweetheart. Selene swore she spent as much time cooing at him as she did Teddy, much to both boys' embarrassment. Fortunately, they got along like a house on fire.
So, she didn't think anything of it when she decided she would sponsor Achilles so he could attend Hogwarts.
She hadn't expected the tears that would surge when she announced it one day at lunch. But she had expected the hugs. And the grins and lit up eyes. She cherished it all and knew she had done the right thing.
Come September 1st, she side-apparated all three of them to Platform 9 ¾. A feat, she was proud to say, didn't take any effort from her part. She led the kids to the middle of the train and helped the boys stow their luggage in an empty compartment. That done, she turned to them.
"Now, don't forget, Teddy, of the deal we made with Madam Pomfrey," she told him sternly. When making the arrangements for him to attend Hogwarts, she came with the idea of him being interested in the Healing Arts (which, thankfully, both boys were), and have him helping her in the Hospital Wing every once in a while, after classes to cover up his disappearances during the full moon. It was a better disguise than the one Dumbledore had created for Remus. Anyone with a functioning brain would become suspicious if Teddy were to always 'get sick' during the full moon and put two and two together. Achilles going with him would only help their ruse.
"I won't, mom," he promised her, smiling brightly. And damn him for always making her melt every time he called her 'mom' or any variation of the word. Especially when he settled his appearance on messy black hair and her chartreuse-green eyes.
She turned her eyes to Achilles. "Please, keep an eye on him."
"Don't worry, auntie!" He smiled good-naturedly, and damn him too!
"Come here, you two!" With her eyes stinging from the tears that were threatening to fall, she pulled both boys to her and hugged them for all she was worth. She relished in the feel of two pair of arms hugging her back with equal force. "I'm going to miss you so much!" She squeezed them one final time before letting go. She ignored their shiny eyes the same way she ignored the feeling of her about-to-overflow eyes. "I don't care which house you'll end up in. Each one of them has its pros and cons. All I care is that you're happy, okay?" She told them seriously and watched as they nodded solemnly. "Good."
She stepped back and watched them say goodbye to Pyrrha. Unlike her, the redhead was already crying while she hugged the boys and wished them good luck. Seeing her state was enough for them to start crying too.
Selene kept on observing the kids she called her own. She smiled even as a tear slid down the side of her face. This moment was bittersweet. This was when she realized that even though the boys were going away from her, they were going towards their future.
"We'll be back for the Yule holiday." Her arms were suddenly full of Teddy. She stood motionless as he lifted a hand and whipped her tear away.
She smiled. "You better." The whistle blew, and she kissed each one on the crow of their heads. "Make me proud."
They nodded and got inside the train. She put an arm over Pyrrha's shoulder and felt the girl leaning into her. The both of them watched as the boys waved their goodbyes from the window. They waved back and stood there until the Express made a curve and disappeared. Only then did they apparate back home.
It was time for her to start researching werewolves.
Werewolf myths, Selene discovered, were a pain in the ass to research. There were just so many stories of how they came to be in Europe that she felt like pulling her hair in frustration: the úlfheðnar, Lycaon's curse, the revenants... These were just a few of the European legends. It became even more obscure when you researched for them in other continents, because Selene's life can never be easy. So, that was how she discovered the existence of other 'weres': weretigers, werehyenas, werejaguars…
She also discovered that the North-American werewolf packs originated in a single place. A single curse, cast on a Native tribe.
Needless to say, she was this close of screaming her frustration for all to hear.
It was only through sheer dumb luck (because that was definitely her life) that she found something that could possibly help Teddy and Pyrrha. One day, she was in Potter Manor (and wasn't that a funny thought? The Potters had a manor! Of course, everybody but her knew this, and she had only found out about it and all her other properties at the same time she had found out about her titles! Bloody wankers!) going towards the library so she could continue her research when one of the portraits stopped her.
"It's rare to see such dedicated pursuit of knowledge nowadays! My descendants could certainly learn something from you!"
Selene had stopped as soon as she heard one of the portraits speaking to her but was left blinking because while the man depicted was certainly a Potter – as made obvious by the messy hair (which she was starting to think was a family curse) – his accent was definitely American. And wait! Did he say 'descendants'? Did it mean she had family still alive?
"May I inquire what it is that you're searching for?" And just like that, her excitement was quenched. Because she would only search for distant relatives once she found a way to help her children.
She ran a hand through her hair and answered. "Either a cure for lycanthropy or a way to help the werewolves deal better with it." She sighed. Months searching for something that could help her and she found absolutely nothing.
"Ah, help for a friend. I see."
And Selene raised her eyes to stare at the portrait, for that wasn't the reaction she had been expecting. The Potters were, after all, purebloods; and all purebloods were prejudiced (some less than others but prejudiced all the same. One just had to find what was it that each person thought to be despicable. Squibs, muggleborns, magical beings… the list went on). This man's attitude was refreshing!
"What do you know about vampires?" He asked her. More than I've ever wanted to know, was the answer that came to mind, but she didn't say it, preferring to shrug in response. No need to be rude with someone who seemed willing to help her. "Do you know about their origin?"
"One of the witches who dealt with the Spirits cast a spell in order to protect her children and husband. It backfired spectacularly when they found themselves hungering for blood, burning in the sun, allergic to vervain and unable to enter any house unless previously invited. Though I can't say the spell was a total failure, can I? They did become stronger, faster and more resilient than everyone else, didn't they? Ant they have also become immortal," she finished with another shrug.
"Well," he continued, raising a hand to stroke his perfectly trimmed goatee, "when I was young, I became a part of the Hunter's Guild of the United States. It was a way to collect fresh ingredients without having to wait for them to come in and pay the exorbitant prices of the rarer ones, and a way to satisfy my wanderlust," he explained once he saw her interested gaze. "In one of my many travels, I came across a pack – the no-maj kind, mind you – and became curious. You see, the no-maj werewolves, just like ours, try to integrate themselves in their society, but because of the no-majs' ignorance to everything magical, they are more successful." By this time, she had conjured herself a chair and was hearing avidly what he had to say. "Anyway, I crossed paths with this pack… they had this legend in which one of their alphas fathered a child with a powerful witch. This child, a son, was later transformed into something werewolf and vampire."
"The Original Hybrid," Selene breathed, astonished. There have been tales of him abounding since the time he broke his curse.
The man in the portrait seemed as surprised as her, but it seemed to be from her quick deduction rather than the revelation. "… Uh… Yes." He blinked before regaining his composure. "But that was not why I told you that. There were rumors in that pack that the witch created a ring for her lover that would protect him from the moon the same way a daylight ring protects a vampire from the sun."
Selene's breath caught in her throat, because while that wasn't a definitive cure, it was certainly better than anything she had been able to found (which had only been ways to subdue the werewolf so they wouldn't be a danger to anyone). "Do you know if they have settled anywhere?" She asked him, daring to let herself hope.
The man shook his head. "Alas, I do not. But I do know they are known as the North East Atlantic Pack."
"Don't worry…" she trailed off, realizing she hadn't asked for his name. By his suddenly aghast expression, he had also realized that introductions hadn't been made.
"Where are my manners?! Augustus Potter, at your service!" He declared and bowed elegantly.
"Selene Potter." She stood up and curtsied, feeling rather clumsy in comparison to his obvious refinement (it didn't matter that he was a portrait; the paintings, after all, mirrored the people they represented. And graceful had never been a word used in regard to her). "Your help was more than I could've hoped for. You have my thanks!"
Augustus just grinned, very much pleased he had been able to help.
Two and a half years passed since that day. Two and a half years since she met the portrait of Augustus in one of the many corridors of Potter Manor. Two and a half years trying to find the North East Atlantic Pack, forcing herself to keep going, to not give up… to no avail. The muggle werewolves were more careful than the magical ones, doing their best to be either in uninhabited areas or locking themselves during the full moon. And seeing as they had no magic to mutate their curse, there was no sudden increase to their numbers to help her locate them.
During this time, she had noticed that Teddy seemed more and more tired each time she saw him. And while she was thankful he wasn't sporting scars like the ones Remus had had, she wondered how long it would take for the Wolfsbane to start doing more and more damage to him.
At least there had been some good things to balance the bad: she had met the Potters that lived in the States, and they were amazing people, easy for her to get along. And once she had explained she planned to track the American pack, they had promptly offered to help; and the one time she mentioned in passing she wanted to homeschool Pyrrha on the magical subjects, she found a list on her desk, mentioning whose Potter was good in which subject. When she showed it to the redhead, the girl insisted on making a small get-together so she could personally thank each person that was involved. It went without saying that she always did her best in all that was being taught to her. Even though she shined more in some subjects than others, all of her teachers were very proud of her.
Selene had also found herself the originator of a werewolf sanctuary. How that came to happen, she still had no idea, but it seemed rumours had appeared in the werewolf communities that she was researching lycanthropy and if there was a cure for it. Next thing she knew, wolves were approaching her with those sad-but-hopeful amber-flecked eyes, and she just couldn't say no. Damn them for having mastered the puppy eyes!
And it seemed that all that was needed for her image as a 'bastion of Light' to take a hit was to fight for the rights of other beings.
Not that she cared about it. (Screw them!) The public's opinion of her have been shifting since she entered the Wizarding World. She had been expecting it for a while now.
It was as she was mulling about her life that the fire in the fireplace turned green and the head of her cousin, Alistair Potter, appeared. "There have been rumors about the no-maj packs."
Selene hurried to him and settled herself in front of his floating head.
"They say that most of them are traveling to the French Quarters in New Orleans." Before she could open her mouth to ask why, he went on. "It seems that Niklaus Mikaelson managed to impregnate a werewolf and the packs want to be there to see the 'miracle baby'."
Selene sat back at that and blinked. "Blimey, I thought vampires could only have kids with our kind of witch!"
She could almost see his shoulders moving in a shrug. "According to hearsay, it was a loophole, seeing as werewolves can reproduce."
That made absolutely no sense to Selene; part werewolf or not, Niklaus was still a vampire.
It was irrelevant though. What mattered now was that the North East Atlantic Pack would, undoubtedly, make its way to New Orleans as well. The baby would, after all, be a part of their pack, whether the Original Hybrid knew it or not.
And just like that, her hope was rekindled. She turned to Alistair and beamed. "Thank you!"
He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "As long as you don't forget to bring me along when you go."
She nodded her acceptance and watched him disappear. Then she jumped into action. She needed to pack. Then she had to inform the others of where she was going. It was a given that Pyrrha would go with her, but Teddy and Achilles were still at Hogwarts, and she doubted Andromeda would want to go. All her other friends would be occupied as well, but it didn't mean they wouldn't realize if she were to leave without saying anything. So, letters. She would also need to buy a gift for her cousins…
So many things, so little time…
Two days later, Selene and Pyrrha were stepping inside the fireplace, going to the Potter Villa, where they were received by Victoria Potter, Alistair's little sister.
Next step: New Orleans' French Quarter.
Thanks for reading.