21Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It must have started around the time when his uncle began acting strangely.
Well, perhaps 'strangely' wasn't quite the most apt word. Not if the constant, ear-to-ear smile that was permanently plastered on the man's face could be stretched to it. He was normally; emphasis on 'normally', uptight, abrasive, and more than a little unpleasant.
Okay, he was quite unpleasant.
He also normally snapped and spat at every little thing, but after the change, he was; to put it mildly, jolly. A little too jolly.
That wouldn't have gone unnoticed by anyone who knew the man long enough, but other signs of his…'changes' would manifest. Like buying of the neighbors gift baskets, bouquets, cakes, and even jewelry, much to his aunt's and cousin's chagrin.
They did not fail to take note of the change, and were more than a little ambivalent on the matter, before soon turning their suspicions onto him, badgering him on whatever 'spell'; his aunt's words, was placed on their patriarch. It would be the very first instance that she had ever slapped him across the face, when she normally just yelled at him, calling him a wicked child for good measure. A wicked, wicked child that should have died with her sister, while he could only cower away, crumpled into a fetal position.
His cousin didn't fail to follow his mother's example, slipping in a good punch or two instead.
He remained silent throughout their abuse, not even looking them in the eye, not even when the woman demanded it. By the time they were done, he was locked inside his dingy little cupboard. The following day, he was left alone in the dim room, alone with his thoughts.
Alone from the outside world.
Not that he had much to think about. After all, he was only five.
Or, at least he believed that to be his age. He could never really keep track of his birthday, and the rest of his family could care even less than they already did.
He was deprived of food for two days straight in hopes of drawing out a confession. No confession ever came, for he had no real reason to tell. He doubted they'd even believe him. Nor was he under any illusions that they would consider believing him consciously. He knew that they were only too eager to pile on his misery. Only now, they had a reason.
By the time the two days were up, all that his aunt could spare was a measly loaf and a cold glass of water, even more emaciated than he had already been, and he was only too grateful for any form of sustenance. The bread was stale, but delicious, and the water soothing to his parched tongue.
After he was done eating, his aunt came back and thrusted a spade into the hand where the bread had been, only crumbs remaining.
He was supposed to tend the garden.
Weakened, and not having bathed in those two days; or other bodily needs for that matter, he naturally refused, and it was there that his aunt seemed to explode in anger, fuming with her usual obscenities aimed towards him, alongside a slew of new ones that he had never even heard before. She threatened that he would be left to starve for a full three days if he didn't get on his feet and worked his chores, and that seemed to motivate him enough.
With a heavy heart, and even heavier legs, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled to the backyard, with spade in hand.
Only to feel a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened, believing that the woman wasn't done with him, but she grabbed the spade and walked in the direction of the garden ahead of him without saying a word.
His uncle would continue to act jolly, sickeningly so, but rather than treating him any better, the man acted… wooden, even a little robotic. With stiff movements, phrases that he would repeat every now and then rather than natural dialogue, even when alone, as well as spending less and less time at home.
Not that his aunt complained, nor did his cousin, the latter being more ignorant of what his father's absences might entail. He, let's call him Henry, continued to simply watch, and observe, hoping that things would, eventually, go back to normal. The kind of normal he was accustomed to, because even he was…disturbed by what he, and he alone, seemed to be aware of. It didn't take long for his cousin to succumb to what he would refer to in his mind as the "little nightmares", because really, he would only ever see such odd…creatures in his dreams, hiding around corners and shadows.
And they would watch him back.
One such entity that came to bother his cousin may well be responsible for the odd turn in his behavior. Normally a glutton who would gorge himself on his mother's cooking and the occasional sweet treat; meaning often, the porcine lad would begin to lose his appetite, eating less and less. This would go on for about a week. During that time, Henry would sneak some food from "leftovers", often untouched, for himself, but only enough to sate his hunger.
The first time, he feared that he would be reprimanded by his aunt and uncle, but they were blissfully ignorant, though in his aunt's case, she seemed to be operating on the opposite end of the spectrum from her husband, sporting a rather stony frown and being generally quieter than she normally was. She would do the chores without complaint, and when she was done, or generally lacked anything to occupy her time, she would stand like a statue in their room.
He refused to approach, much less touch any of them, for Henry feared that he too would come under their thrall. The one on his cousin, which clung around the boy's neck tightly, looked like a large black worm, its outward appearance coarse and lumpy, with a circular, suction-like mouth that stuck to the back of the lad's head, and it only seemed to be growing by the day.
The one hovering over his uncle was more humanoid, but no less monstrous. It had a gaunt figure, with a pronounced paunch for a belly, with bright red skin that would occasionally shift to a cold blue, and little to no body hair. Its face, however, never changed, scrunched into a perpetually tight scowl and hyperventilating like it was exhausted…or frustrated. Its fingers, sharp and gnarly, would softly curl and scrape against the follicles of his uncle's hair.
The one by his aunt was the most ghastly of them, like a cross between a man; a morbidly obese man to be exact, and a slug, which towered over her by at least a full meter. Its overall body was slimy and translucent, almost like living jelly, and when it moved, it left a trail of slime that his cousin actually slipped on a few times.
These…things were the reason that each of his relatives began to act the way they did. Yet, for some reason, these same creatures would ignore him, or were yet to set their sights on him, and he dared not test to see if they would. He continued to avert his eyes to all of it. Both out of fear, but also because, deep down, he was just glad that he was eating better, and that they no longer…
An additional week would pass, and his cousin was all but unrecognizable to him, having lost a solid chunk of his weight, to the point that the two of them were hardly distinguishable from each other save for him being the opposite, having staved off his previous malnourishment. What struck him as odd was that he never seemed to complain or make a fuss, his bratty demeanor replaced with a gloomy, perpetually depressed countenance. He had tried to strike conversation with him a few times, albeit in soft whispers so as to avoid provoking the worm-like creature, but like with his aunt and uncle, his cousin would not be in the right frame of mind.
They were graced by the occasional visitor, much of those visits being his cousin's teacher from school. His aunt would simply nod along with whatever the man discussed with her concerning her son's academics, but Henry knew that she was hardly; if even, listening. Once, before departing, the teacher remarked on how he was glad the boy was actually improving in his studies, and was phenomenally more well behaved and civil, even to Henry.
This would go on for a few more days until he made a mistake. A mistake that he could never really bring himself to forget in the ensuing years.
The day was like any other, and he decided to be the one to cook breakfast out of concern, and some guilt over failing to help them. Despite their…treatments of him, they were still his family, and he was still at an age where he hadn't quite mustered enough resentment in his heart. If anything, he wasn't good with his emotions, though through no large fault of his own.
Not since he learned that any showing would land him some form of punishment. If he cried, he would be deprived of food, among other essentials. If he expressed any sort of grievance or complaint, he would be reprimanded. Harshly.
If he was happy or smiling in any way…well…
Emotions never yielded anything good for him, so he learned quickly to keep them at a minimum. He crept close to his uncle first, a hot pan with sizzling slices of ham ready to be slid onto the man's plate. It was only a year ago, through instruction from his aunt, that he had learned to cook. Admittedly, he could only do the basics like ham, eggs and toast.
"I thank you greatly!"
Henry flinched, refusing to steal a glance from the man, fearing it might set any of the creatures off. Pitching a glance at his aunt for the briefest of a second allowed him to catch a glimpse of her from the backyard, the woman working since yesterday without rest. Even if there was nothing in the house to attend to, she would find anything; literally anything, to consume her time, like repainting the roof. She even went and tidied up his room. He tried getting her to stop, fearing that whatever may be affecting her would wear off, and he would face the woman's wrath, but any and all calls would fall on deaf ears.
Henry swept his gaze over the table, noting there to be a distinct lack of his cousin, who hadn't risen out of bed in two days, his anorexia having worsened. It was another reason for his guilt. Each of their circumstances hadn't improved or reverted back in the slightest. If anything, their afflictions only seemed to worsen, and he was clueless in what needed to be done. He had previously asked for some outside help, but it was like their neighbors made it a point to keep their distance, refusing to even set foot near their little corner of Privet Drive. The only one who still acted with some semblance of functionality; if one ignored much of everything else, was his uncle, who was eagerly finishing his meal. Henry watched with morbid fascination as the man seemed to bend his arm that held his fork at an awkward angle to pick at his ham, and the boy could only wince as he heard the telltale sounds of joints creaking, but it was like the man had become impervious to pain.
"Mm! Magnificent! Excellent!" His uncle exclaimed with a wide, toothy smile, his gaze and words ringing hollow, baring his teeth in the way he chewed after placing the ham in his mouth. "I've never consumed any food such as this. My compliments to the kitchener who prepared such a fine foodstuff."
Henry cringed, unnerved by the bizarre manner in which he spoke. It was the same with others who've had the honor of holding a conversation with him. It sounded unnatural. Fake. On reflex; for his young age continued to betray him, he lifted his head up to glance at the man's face, and he paled.
It was looking down at him, its perpetual scowl even more menacing. Labored breaths filtered through long sharp teeth that were bared, the canines curved at an outward angle. Its eyes were smoldering with an unknown rage behind them, and it seemed to creep its head closer forward, whose irises he could now see were a bright yellow, crawling down his uncle's body in a spider-like fashion. It stopped just inches apart from his face, and his nose wrinkled from the stench of its breath, which bore something of a resemblance to his uncle's odor. Cigarettes, coffee and a distinctly metallic scent. Henry only had a moment to avert his gaze, backing away slowly.
The creature's eyes followed, as if watching him in curiosity…or hunger. Did it wish to do harm to him? He feared that that was its intent. Its breathing continued to be labored, though he sensed it rise slightly, and upon stealing a glance from it again, he began to take note of one small detail.
It was…trembling.
His brows furrowed as he now found himself unable to take his eyes off of the beast in spite of the fear wracking his entire body, wary that if he let it out of his sights, it might lunge at him.
He had only ever seen such behavior once before.
From a cat his cousin harassed that one time they were at the park.
Was it…trying to scare him away?
Shaking his head, he collected his bearings and continued to retreat, when he stopped upon colliding with the wall. The monster's skin shifted between red and blue, with smatterings of purple that made its appearance mesmerizing the longer he stared.
The kaleidoscopic creature then did something that made a chill run down his spine. It lifted its upper body and sat on his uncle's stomach, and that was when Henry realized that the man had gone still as a statue, sporting that wide grin painted on his face. He almost resembled a mannequin. The creature stared at him for longer, when it slowly raised its arms, pausing in place, before it swung down and dug its hands into his uncle's stomach with a sickening squelch.
Henry wasn't sure what he was seeing, his childlike curiosity overriding his fear as the creature continued to just…sink into his uncle's body, rooted to the spot until it was engulfed entirely. Not long after, he watched his uncle's expression change. For the first time in days, his smile was disappearing, slowly as the rest of his face morphed, twisting and scrunching. His chest began to rise and fall as his breathing was becoming more labored, his pink skin darkening into an angry mix of red, blue and purple. His brows crinkled into a scowl, his eyes changing from a chocolate brown to a demonic yellow, his irises visibly contracting into slits.
Henry couldn't have moved out of the way fast enough when his uncle pounced on him with surprising speed belying his age and build, and with unseen agility, crawled and clamored through the floor with spider-like movements as the boy didn't stop and ran down the hall towards the backyard. The man gave out an inhuman, high-pitched roar that was like a cross between a pig and a bear. With agile dexterity, the man scaled the wall and overtook his nephew before he could reach the door, his bulk blocking the exit entirely before the boy's hand could grab the doorknob, belting out an intimidating hiss. Henry recklessly spun around, his feet dragging against the carpeted floor that he almost fell forward, but desperation kept him aloft, praying that his hand-me-down shoes, loose-fitting as they were, would not fail him.
Alas, that prayer would fail to be answered as his right shoe slipped right off midway in his sprint to the front door, with his uncle still hot on his trail.
"FREEEEAAAAAAK! " His uncle roared, his mouth outstretched in an impossibly grotesque length. It was often what his uncle would address him as instead of his actual name, and it came to be what some of the neighbor kids; particularly his cousin's friends, would call him as well. At five years of age, it barely registered as an insult, perceiving it more as an odd nickname. But being insulted was at the very back of his concerns as he continued to run for dear life, desperate to reach the door in spite of the unevenness of his footing.
But he had slowed down, allowing his uncle to catch up and nearly tackle him to the ground had he not evaded, ducking down and subsequently letting his other shoe slip off. With this, he picked up speed, making a mad sprint for the door, now even more confident of his escape upon it coming into his sights. This confidence would be dashed when he saw the door open, revealing the ghastly figure of his aunt, her dress caked with clumps of soil and filth like she had been rolling in it, staring straight at him with her scowl having deepened…and her right hand brandishing a spade. She immediately rushed him, her arm drawn back in preparation to stab the tool into her nephew. Henry pushed his body to the side, dodging the woman by a hair's breadth, but this only caused his feet to trip against the foot of the stairs. Disoriented, but only briefly, he snapped his head up just in time to see his aunt and uncle now converging on him from both sides. Like an animal on all fours, his uncle lunged at him again with both arms outstretched, while his aunt drew her arm back for what he feared would be a killing blow.
Time seemed to slow down as his life flashed before him, and in such a heightened state, he could see…darkness.
A shadow.
He blinked, and the world around him went dark.
Elsewhere…
"Ah, jolly ol' England, fish and chips, Big Ben, cheerio and all that jazz," a feminine voice mused as she was riding down the road on her motorbike, feeling the chilly winds on her face despite the goggles and helmet she sported, her black leather jacket providing her ample warmth. "The first country I get to, and it's just 'burbs for miles around." She sighed. "I guess asking for a little excitement is too tall an order for a dropout like me." Or maybe a better tourist trap.
The girl sighed, second thoughts running through her mind over leaving Japan behind. It wasn't like she had anything left keeping her there. She had been resolute, having planned on leaving since before dropping out of that school for how stuffy it had become.
Pushing that train of thought aside, she threw her focus back on the road. Her eyes wandering ahead, she caught a glimpse of a signboard she was about to pass by with the words, Privet Drive, huh? Cozy. Passing by a few identical brick homes, it indeed gave off the tranquil, unassuming ambience of British suburbia. If it was any sunnier, she might even consider slumming it here for a while. But no, she was here for a different reason, as word tended to travel around, even if it was just rumors.
From experience, rumors she couldn't dismiss on the fly.
It was either that, or letting it eat at her for the rest of her stay. This was supposed to be her first gig as a solo act, and she wasn't about to mess it up. Both to prove to the association, and to herself, that she could make it.
As her motorbike's engine purred, she kept her eyes out for anything unusual, or rather the usual signs of-
'THOOM'
Her bike skidded to a halt at the same time her heart skipped a beat, though she could have sworn that the organ had stopped in its palpitations right at that instant. That instant it slammed right into her like several dozen freight trains.
"Wha-What the fuck?"
Coming to her proper senses, her eyes were glued in the direction of the road before she slowly lowered her gaze; she was squeezing the handlebars of her bike tightly. Any tighter and she might have to take the time to find a mechanic. Breathing in and out to steady herself, she swirled her head left and right searchingly. It had caught her off guard, rendering her mildly shaken and maybe a little scared in a good while.
"That was…Cursed Energy."
She flared out her senses.
"A lot of it."
Where was it? It couldn't have been far, not unless they just happened to be on the other side of the continent, then she'd really have to make a few calls back home.
"It was like…the sea."
Quickly unmounting, she urgently snuck her bike into a safe corner and kicked down the stand. Her thoughts were racing.
"It was like I was drowning for a second there. That wave of Cursed Energy. It…it was unreal."
Her eyes peeled, she tried placing which direction the energy hailed from, marveling at just how heavy it felt. So…so pure.
"Grade 2? No. Semi-Grade? Grade 1?"
Looking about the rest of the street, she could find neither the hide nor hair of any living being present, not even birds or insects, and spreading her senses further failed to pick up life from the other nearby houses. Could that wave have been responsible? Maybe to someone with a weak constitution, but digging a little deeper yielded the all too familiar stench of Curse Spirits, and there had been a lot of them.
Emphasis on 'had'.
Her body twitched to alertness the instant she sensed it, with shadows emerging from the corner of her eye. It would seem like not all of the blighters were exterminated as she barely had a second to dodge a dragonfly-like monster the size of a housecat zooming past her head with blinding speed. Spinning on her heel, she flared her energy throughout her body as she readied back a fist at an approaching creature that looked like a deranged mascot, its skin gray as an elephant with the feet to match. Under its large, curved nose was an over exaggerated mustache, with black beady and hungry eyes staring directly at her.
Slipping into its range, her fist connected with the monster's stomach, coated with the Cursed Energy needed to splatter it apart. As pieces of its remains were dissolving from being exorcized, she clipped the dragonfly spirit that was hoping to lop her head off with the back of her fist, then smoothly circled around to roundhouse kick a third Spirit that was about to come down on her, this time being a two-legged demonic horse with tentacles in place of forelegs. It flew back before planting its feet on the pavement, then threw its tentacles at her for an assault. She deftly danced around the tendrils briefly before grabbing hold of two, and with her enhanced strength, swung the monster at another pair of Spirits attempting to double team her from behind. She dug her heels into the asphalt before vaulting forward to blast a single fist through all three in one swoop.
"How in the hell does this place have such a high concentration of Cursed Spirits?" She thought to herself as she could see more coming out of the woodwork. "They gotta be at least Grade 3s. This is insane. For such an amount of negative emotion to be focused on just one point…"
For it to even be possible, every living resident in this block had to have been a hotbed of negativity.
And then there was that wave. Wherever it came from, the source was definitely someone who could use Curse Energy, but whether it was a human or an exceptionally powerful Curse, she had yet the breathing room to fully ponder on it when there was still an army of Cursed Spirits looking ready to tear her apart.
Elsewhere…
The finger of his right hand twitched as the rest of his body tensed, causing him to drop the odd trinket he had been idly toying with, the voice speaking to him drowned out by his rising heartbeat. He pushed down the urge to panic with experienced ease.
"Albus? Albus!"
His eyes snapped up with a blink, lacking its usual twinkle for a moment. Putting on a thin smile between his long beard, he responded to a man wearing a dark, pinstriped suit from the other end of a circular table, the room they were in musty of tobacco and tea leaves, "Yes, Cornelius?"
The man referred to as Cornelius cocked one eyebrow, having said his piece with the impression that the other man had been listening. With a clearing of the throat, Cornelius repeated, "The Triwizard Tournament, Albus. There have been talks within the Ministry of reviving it this year."
Albus stared at the man with an unreadable expression, his thoughts still elsewhere. "For what reason?"
A small grin tugged at the corner of Cornelius' lips, though there was a stammer when he replied, "At the, uh, suggestion of Bartemius. Durmstrang has recently run afoul with Beauxbatons, you see. A…dispute between Karkaroff and Maxime, it would seem."
Albus, without the usual glimmer in his gaze, now sported an air of disinterest, barely comprehending their discussion for how utterly ludicrous it was in comparison to the growing turmoil gnawing at the back of his mind. His surveillance charms had picked up something of an odd energy signature before his connection was severed.
Albus motioned his hand over where his trinket fell, causing it to fly up for him to grab easily. He pulled his attention away from the other man and said, "The Triwizard Tournament…over a dispute?"
Cornelius shrugged, leaning back against his chair. "It's…been gaining some traction," he remarked dubiously, running a hand over his chin, and was quick to add, "not that I had agreed or considered anything, mind you. I just felt I needed to bring up the matter for your opinion."
The man known as Albus was silent as he gently placed the trinket down on the table next to a glass teacup with gold trim. He was already fearing the worst, for he had recognized that strange energy all too well.
"Albus? Are you well, old boy?" Cornelius asked in concern at how uncharacteristically withdrawn his colleague had unexpectedly become.
Albus let out a soft sigh, more to calm his own budding nerves and to reassure the other man with the assumption that he was merely chewing on the thought. "I hardly think such a dispute would even necessitate an event of that caliber, Cornelius."
"Quite, quite," Cornelius nodded along, taking the man's words to mind. "Though it was to Bartemius' insistence."
"And it would be to the students' peril," Albus added easily. "You've read the accounts. The last Triwizard Tournament had such casualties that the Ministry at the time had no choice but to discontinue it."
"Indeed," Cornelius nodded, though Albus could derive a smidgen of disappointment behind the man's tone. "I'll have to refuse 'ol Barty. It escapes me as to why he's so intent on it."
As did he, but Albus' attention was now needed elsewhere, and stat. Though…
"Should I send Hagrid? No. Perhaps Moo-" He suppressed the urge to wince as he tossed that latter thought aside, his right hand curling into a fist reflexively.
Realizing that his options were limited, and on such short notice, he had little choice. "This should be all for now, Cornelius."
Finishing a sip of his own tea, Cornelius perked up and cleared his throat in agreement, rising from his seat. They were still busy men, after all. "Well, this has been a wonderful spot of tea, Albus. I'll be seeing you at the next meeting. After…Christmas. Yes, the, uh, allocation of the budget for that new wing being built in the Department of Mysteries. I normally wouldn't bother you with such trivial matters, but many of the Unspeakables there still place a great deal of trust in your consul."
There was a nostalgic curl to his lips, with Albus remembering those days well. Albeit, as far as his particular brand of research went. Just something he would occupy himself with whenever he had the time. It had been the closest of working within the Ministry without anyone breathing down his neck, as short of a stint it had been.
"Very well, Cornelius," Albus said, shooing him away with a noncommittal wave of his hand. "Don't let me keep you."
Putting on his hat and coat, Cornelius departed with a good-natured snort, sensing the man wanted to be rid of him in a hurry. And indeed, Albus wished to simply be alone to his thoughts, sorting through past memories.
He would need that new wing in the Department of Mysteries for the research he had been working on. Other Unspeakables were only too eager to join in. Research that he should have resumed shortly after-
"You've summoned me, Albus?"
Albus raised his head ever so slightly to survey a thin, elderly woman wearing red and brown robes standing from the door, her right hand delicately adjusting her spectacles at the first sight of his imperceptible discomfort. Her graying brunette hair done in a bun, the woman was watching him with a practiced, analytical eye.
"Minerva, it would seem something…problematic has come up," Albus said to the point, turning his gaze over to the window of his office.
"Problematic?" The woman known as Minerva repeated anxiously, stepping near. "What?"
The man did not respond immediately, his expression looking withered, worry eating at him. "I would like for you to do a…wellness check on Number 4, Privet Drive."
Minerva's eyes flashed with a rise in her anxiety. "Number 4? Harry? Whatever could be wrong?"
Albus raised a placating hand to calm her down. "A simple wellness check, Minerva. It could be nothing, but…something has disrupted the defensive wards I placed as extra precaution."
"Could it be…" Minerva put forward, fearing the worst. "I told you, Albus, I told you. I feared that this would happen."
Far from rising to the admonishment, Albus simply replied, "Now, now, they couldn't have done anything to those wards. It is in all likelihood to be something else."
"That something else being a Death Eater, you mean," Minerva huffed. With a shaking of her head, she added, "What hope would they have in guarding the boy? What's stopping them from simply giving him up?"
"You know the protections afforded by those who share his blood, Minerva," Albus reminded her, continuing to toy with his Deluminator. "Lily's blood."
Minerva looked as unconvinced as she had been that fateful night. "But their character, Albus. Even as Muggles, they are horrendous. Arabella's regular reports have conveyed to me that much."
"Come now, Minerva," Albus said with a veneer of geniality, tilting his head, eyes twinkling once more. "Nothing they could do would ever be worse than those who truly wish to do harm to the boy. Nothing."
Number 4…
He wasn't sure where the pain began and where it ended, his vision blurry with specks of red. He could barely utter a word, his lips swollen and jaw aching, his entire body unable to move as he was lying on his side, back pressed against the wall.
"Kick him! Kick him again, Vernon!" He wasn't sure who was saying it, his consciousness barely hanging on to reality.
"We should have gotten rid of this…this freak when we had the chance!" A man's voice seethed with pure rage and disgust. "Go to the shed and get the shovel. We'll bury this thing in the back."
The last thing he had seen before the pain was his aunt and uncle, lying face down on the floor. Soon after, the man was the first to recover. His uncle lifted his head up, delirium and confusion plainly written on his mustached face before his eyes landed on him. From there, the vicious scowl from earlier returned, nowhere near as demonic, but every bit as hateful, and the man snappily rose to his feet and was only two steps away from delivering a hard kick to the unprepared boy's face.
Henry reeled from the pain as he was slammed back against the wall and fell on his side. Both of his hands reached up to cup at his face before he felt the punishing collision of his uncle's shoe once more, curling in on himself instinctively. Again, and again, harder and harder, his uncle bore his foot down on the boy, the latter's hands and arms doing little to soften the consecutive blows as they weren't solely focused on his face, his small frame no better than a cat being bludgeoned by a delinquent with a bat.
With a hiss, Vernon's breathing labored from anger and exhaustion, looking down at the crumpled mess that was his nephew with the purest feelings of contempt, his son's hand-me-downs tattered and beginning to show dark stains of red. The boy's arms, his fingers broken and mangled, were listless on the floor, like a doll whose strings had just been cut.
His wife had hurried to the yard with a panicked excitement towards their shed. Finally! Finally, they would be rid of him. Rid of her sister's shame on their family.
"You wretched child…" Vernon seethed venomously, some spittle spilling out of lips, teeth bared into a beastly snarl. "No, you're not a child, you're not even human! You're something else! Some-Some…Some kind of curse!" Anger overriding reason, he asked the half-conscious and probably half-dead boy, "What were those things?! W-W-Were they yours?! Did they come from you?!"
They had been conscious the entire time. Throughout the entire experience, they were trapped within their own bodies. It was a despicable sensation, like someone pushing their face down with a pillow but unable to die from suffocation. The torment had only lasted before they were freed. How? Why? They could care less, only that they needed to kill the boy in the chance they might suffer such torture once more.
He waited for an answer that was never to come, "Dudley…" he muttered his son's name in sudden realization, and he kicked Henry square in the stomach, drawing a weak groan from the latter. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?!"
Henry was no longer listening, or rather, he could no longer hear anything, not even his own heartbeat. His mind was clouded with thoughts of…darkness. Shadows dancing and twirling around him, taunting him. Featureless figures he knew not of leered at him with unseen eyes, smiling voraciously at his suffering.
His face red with unbridled fury, Vernon lifted his foot for the finishing blow, ready to end his nephew's misery.
When…
Earlier…
"Leave Japan I said, it'll be cool I said!" The blonde young woman said to herself after uppercutting a humanoid monster that was a head taller than her, everything down to its waist cowled by an exceedingly large helmet shaped like a pyramid, and revealing the upper body in the exact same shape once the covering was knocked off, with only two small beady eyes in the center of both sides facing the direction of its front. With a devastating axe kick, imbued with her energy, the thing was exorcized without ceremony. "Alright…that should be all of them."
Panting, the woman surveyed her surroundings, mounds and mounds of Cursed Spirits surrounding her dissolving still from how numerous they had been, coupled with the collateral damage of broken fences, two smashed cars, and much of the asphalt sustaining large cracks and crevices. Her own appearance wasn't any better, having taken off her leather jacket when one of the bastards managed to tear into her left sleeve, now in only a white tank top and blue jeans, her goggles still wrapped securely around her eyes.
"Still, not exactly the worst way to spend an extended vacation," she muttered to herself. "Now," collecting her bearings, she stretched her arms up and rotated her shoulders to work out the kinks, her body tense from the exertion, "where to-"
The woman froze, narrowing her eyes upon catching a peculiar sight in front of one of the houses not far from her, her gaze following the figure of someone…having literally appeared out of thin air.
Near Number 4…
Minerva wasn't sure what to expect upon arriving at Little Whinging, other than to rendezvous with Arabella. What she found instead was…distressing.
The hairs on the back of her neck bristled as she sensed something terribly amiss, breaking into a sprint towards the door of the woman's house. Unlocking and opening it with a charm, she espied the foyer first and foremost, hand on her wand as she swept her gaze over the floor and spotting some toys lying around on the carpet, the kind Arabella would give to her charges.
She sniffed the air, the entire house reeking of a musty and metallic odor. Taking careful step after careful step, she crept to Arabella's kitchen first to see if she was home, or…
She nearly dropped her wand, her wrinkled skin breaking out into a cold sweat as she saw Arabella's…upper body, sitting across from her lower legs, her severed midriff spilling copious amounts of blood and flooding the floor around her. It was the same for…the other half. Horrifically, Arabella, as if she was still amongst the living, slowly turned her head towards her, the action producing a sickening noise from the joints snapping, and greeted her.
"OhHHh…mInErrrrvaaa…hoOoouwrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuu-" 'Arabella' opened-stretched her mouth down wide, her eyes unfocused, spinning sporadically in their sockets. She looked absolutely wretched, dangling a teacup in one hand while holding out the other bare, pieces of a broken saucer lying by the feet of the chair she was seated on, continuously oozing blood.
She was dead.
Arabella Figg was dead.
Who or what could have killed her-?
Before she could even contemplate, much less mourn the miserable state her friend was in, Minerva snapped her gaze over her shoulder, having sensed a presence, but it dissipated out of sight, catching only the faintest of shadows.
She wasn't alone, and what's worse, her gut feeling told her that if she didn't act swiftly, she would suffer the same fate.
Readying her wand, she was poised to defend herself and avenge Arabella, but whoever it was snuck past her before she could get a better look, as did she when she felt an application of pressure around the sides of her waist, apparating on top of the stairwell to gain a vantage point. Her senses sharpened, she darted her sights all over the hallway and lifted her wand in front of her, already charging a stunner spell. With a keen snap of her wrist, she fired at a phantom rushing past her left, gliding across the floor and over the wall that she hardly had a second to vanish again before the thing could reach her. Appearing outside, she was nearly out of breath from exerting her magic at such fast speeds, pitching one last glance at the place where a valued member of the Order was placed on display by some demented-
"Hey!"
Minerva couldn't turn her head fast enough to where the voice came from, and was met with sight of a ragged young woman standing in front of her, a hand on her hip and the other raised in greeting. With shortness of breath, and before she could get a word in, the younger woman blurted out only one word.
"Duck."
Her instincts screamed at her to do as she said, diving low before a shadow emerged from Arabella's door.
"Get out-!"
Minerva's words were cut off when the young woman caught the thing that had been stalking her, colliding with breakneck speed that she was sure the poor girl had perished before she could even take another breath to steady herself. She blanched in horror at finally being able to see the thing under the daylight, having covered a good distance away from the house. It had a body that was vaguely human in shape, but it had a narrow waist, hunched over that she could clearly see the outline of its spine, its arms and legs segmented like that of an insect's, its wholly fleshy body a sickly green. Its forearms and forelegs had serrated, blade-like protrusions, and its head; if one could even call it that, was like a bizarre cross between a dog and cat's, snarling, hissing and barking viciously that caused her to realize that the beast was struggling.
The young woman…
Minerva couldn't believe her own eyes as she directed her focus on the young woman, who was actually holding the creature's arms over her head to keep it from rending her. The initial shock was soon supplanted by her instincts honed from her time in Magical Law Enforcement, proceeding to fire a stunner, and true to her aim, it landed squarely on the creature's left shoulder.
Only for the creature and woman to continue in their struggle, the former seemingly unaffected.
"What?" Minerva's eyes widened slightly. While she wasn't aiming to kill, she could see the danger the beast posed and opted for the most potent level of stunning, the output of her magic enough to bring down a fully grown elephant.
"H-Hey!" The young woman spoke, her voice fraught from wrestling with the monster with her bare hands. Was she a witch? A new recruit of the Order? "Any chance you're a Sorcerer?"
Sorcerer? Minerva blinked in puzzlement.
The woman seemed to read into her expression and her own features shifted, her teeth gritted. "I'll…take that as a no. Explanations for later, because…once I take care of this guy, we still got…the one inside."
Minerva perked up in alarm, and quickly rounded her sights back to the house, shattered pieces of the door hanging ajar. She had only sensed one-
Her mind went back to Arabella's corpse, and the odd and horrific manner it moved, having chalked it up to a curse that her murderer had inflicted as a sick gesture.
"Get away from the door!" The woman exclaimed to her in one breath, before lodging her foot into the monster's stomach in a hard front kick, yet it didn't buckle. "Fucker's gotta be at least Grade 2!"
Minerva was on guard immediately, facing the house and backing away a few steps before…
The witch steeled her nerves upon witnessing a sight that would undoubtedly haunt her for the coming days. Arabella, just as bloody and severed as she had found her, emerged out of the door, dragging herself and her lower body along the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind her.
"Mmmmmiiiiiiiiieeeerrbaaaa-" There was a tremor to the now dead woman's distorted cries, her head down to her body shaking profusely, her voice a shrill mix between animalistic and human, only to be cut off by a disgusting squelch as Arabella's deformed head exploded in a small fountain of blood, bone and brain matter. Minerva continued to back away further as a lump of flesh soaked in her blood seemed to ooze out of the stump that was her neck, like paste being squeezed out of a tube as it stretched and fell to the ground in an elongated tendril.
Minerva watched it all in a trance. A disgusted, frightened, but fascinated trance as the lump writhed once after going stationary, before it twitched, morphed to life and taking shape, sharp bones jutting out in the form of a ribcage, accompanied by a flood of thick black liquid that dissolved what was left of her corpse.
The woman spotted this from the corner of her eye. "A Cursed Womb," she thought. "Not good."
Minerva aimed her wand at the abominable sight, her entire body trembling in horror as something was forming from Arabella's remains. "Wh-What…on…earth…?!"
Two large, concentric eyes popped out of a large, bulbous head, followed by the emergence of a humanoid body that was muscular in build as the bones were swallowed by flesh, its skin mildly translucent, allowing her to see the innards inside it churn, with black fluid continuing to gush from numerous gashes that sizzled upon hitting the ground before they mended on their own. Minerva coughed as she inhaled some of the fumes carried by the wind - she had never smelled anything so foul - causing the inside of her nose and throat to burn.
Covering her mouth with her free hand, she retreated, no longer having the luxury of hesitating. Whatever this thing was, she needed to incapacitate it before help arrived, and she was sure Albus wouldn't be long.
Elsewhere…
Albus watched the event unfold through the crystal ball connected to the last remaining surveillance ward intact in Little Whinging, a detail he neglected to tell Minerva, already set on leaving her to her fate upon finding the other woman there. "One of them. Could she be on assignment?" Could the Association be after Harry? Unlikely, since he wasn't one of them. He had made sure of it.
Or rather, he wished that were the case.
Little Whinging…
"Fuck it!" The blonde woman snapped, the veins on both of her arms popping as she pushed even more amounts of her Cursed Energy into them, when initially she had been keeping the blades from simply penetrating her skin, granting her the strength to shove the creature back by swinging both outward.
"Innate Technique: Star Rage (星の怒りボンバイエ, Bom-ba-ye)"
Sucking in her lips after a sharp intake of air, she drew her right arm back and stomped one foot forward, causing the ground beneath her to shake. Minerva nearly lost her balance, stumbling as she was forced to apparate after catching a stream of black liquid barreling right for her from the creature on her end.
She reappeared next to the blonde, intending to help her when, in utter bafflement, she witnessed the girl plunging her fist into the monster she was fighting. Minerva expected for it to not do much. As far as she was concerned, the girl might be a witch, but she didn't see a wand, nor any magical tool or weapon on hand. Was she seriously combating that abomination with just her bare fists?
"What in the-?"
Within her periphery, and before she could even get a word in for the girl to run, Minerva spotted the wide, spiderweb crack left by her stomp, with the only telltale sign being a deep indent in the shape of a sole. She almost dropped her wand in pure disbelief when she witnessed the monster that had likely murdered Arabella, and had been close to condemning her to the same fate, explode in a shower of blood and gore from the girl's fist colliding.
It then took her a small moment to realize that her ears were ringing.
"Look alive!"
Minerva didn't need to be told twice as she dodged another stream of acid streaking past, this one managing to knock her hat off her head. Her blood ran cold when she observed the hat dissolve into a goopy soup that kept eating all the way through the asphalt.
She swished her wand for another stunner.
"So…what…?"
Minerva froze, as did the woman, who was about to charge when the creature before them spoke, its mouth wide with no visible teeth. Only a long, bulbous tongue with a hole at the end for the black acidic liquid to pass through.
The abomination was trembling, revealing all too willingly that it was doing so…out of anger. "SO WHAT IF I DON'T HAVE MAGIC?! DOES THAT MAKE ME LESS IN YOUR EYES?!"
Minerva recoiled. "Wh…What?"
"A SQUIB! A SQUIB!" The beast seethed indignantly, its voice a distorted mix between what Minerva could recognize was Arabella's voice, alongside a deep, guttural snarl. "CAN I EVEN WORK A WAND, YOU SAY?! I'LL STAB YOUR BLOODY EYES OUT!"
"Uh…okay," Minerva heard the woman say, "I'm sure there's a hell of a story behind all that gibberish, but in case you happen to be curious; and I can't seem to find any reason that you shouldn't be, tall, dark and ugly over there is what we call in the business a Cursed Spirit."
Minerva almost failed to catch what was said. "C-Cursed…"
"Yeah, it's basically a malevolent spirit borne from a combination of the lingering resentment of the victim and being killed by that other Cursed Spirit that I took care of. All that stuff it said? She must have been bottling it all up inside."
Minerva's mind swam as she tried to process what the woman had told her, which was proving to be difficult as she was violently jerked out of the way of an incoming blast of acid. The woman had pulled her by her sleeve. "Hi, Tsukumo Yuki. Or should that be Yuki Tsukumo? You?"
The witch could barely return the girl's introduction in kind, her mouth opening and closing from shock. "M-Minerva. Minerva McGonagall."
"Judging by the surname and accent, you're Scottish," the girl, Yuki, said before grabbing her by the arm, her gaze not leaving the creature. "Let's move."
"What?" Minerva returned her sights to the monster, its head facing the sky. Its cheeks were puffed. It didn't take long for her to put two and two together. On instinct, she apparated with the girl in tow before the creature spat another glob of acid, larger than the last, which soon broke apart as rain that further tarnished everything around it, the grass and soil actually melting on contact and creating a thick cloud of fumes.
"M…M…Mi…nerva…" the Spirit muttered to itself once the fumes cleared enough for it to see that the two had fled.
Both women appeared at what appeared to be another block, with Yuki stumbling forward after releasing her grip on the woman, dizzy from the effects of being suddenly teleported. "W-W-Wha…?"
With a breath to steady herself, Minerva pointed her wand at the girl and muttered, "Episkey."
A spell meant to heal minor injuries, if the girl had any, which she visibly had judging from the lacerations on her forearms. She expected for the cuts to heal seamlessly from years of using the spell since receiving basic training from the Department.
Instead…
"Hm?" Yuki perked up after collecting herself, intending to ask what the old lady had done when she felt something odd. Looking down at her hands, she flared out her Cursed Energy. "What the hell?"
Minerva, seeing this, crept closer to examine the odd energy that danced and billowed like flames, it's dark blue hue intimidating. She could also make out that the cuts had yet to heal. "D-Dear girl, wh-wh-what is that?" In all her life, she had never seen, nor felt, such energy.
And it felt rather ominous.
"I should be asking you, granny," Yuki said noncommittally, mesmerized by the…sudden increase in her reserves. She felt…she felt great! "What did you do?"
Taking slight issue with the way she was addressed, Minerva instead opted to ask bluntly, "Gi-er, Ms. Tsukumo, are you a witch?"
This threw Yuki off a bit. "Me? A witch?" Sizing the older woman up, as well as where they were now - a backyard of an intact home - her brow was raised at the question. Her expression became critical as she analyzed Minerva's appearance. The robes, the stick in hand. Was she a Sorcerer? If that was the case, then why was she asking her such a question? Could she simply be someone ignorant of the specifics and presumed that she was utilizing what she thought was magic? An unregistered?
Yet, her gut instinct told her that there was more to this. "Wait, back up." Positioning her hands in a 'time-out' gesture, she said back, "I'm confused. So, let's clear the air a bit. Can you tell me who you are? What you're doing here."
Minerva pressed her lips in contemplation, sizing the girl up in turn. She had an eye for knowing if someone was experienced in the use of magic, and from what she could tell, the girl's body language among other hints didn't quite fully convey that. If anything, the girl barely looked older than a Sixth Year. Yet, she had power, as evident of the things she had seen so far.
"What you called that…creature," Minerva started, her mind still partly on Arabella. "What was that, truly?"
Realizing that they were strapped for time, and that she was holding the proverbial ball, Yuki relented, "Like I mentioned from the beginning, that handsome fellow that we had the pleasure of encountering is what we in the Jujutsu Community call a Cursed Spirit. They are Curses that are incarnated into the world from the byproduct of negative emotions leaked by Non-Curse Users; that would be regular humans by the way. This byproduct being Cursed Energy."
Minerva could hardly believe, much less fathom what she had just heard. "Y-Young lady, I don't know what you may think, but…Curses? I know curses, and I've dispelled quite a number of them in my day, but that…that thing, is no manner of curse I've ever seen, nor should it be. A-A-And for Muggles of all people to be responsible-"
"Muggles?" Yuki repeated inquisitively.
Minerva stared at the young woman. "Are you a witch?"
Yuki scoffed at the repeat question, having placed her hands on her hips after relaxing her Cursed Energy to conserve her reserves. "I'm afraid not. Not unless that's your definition of Sorcerer in your neck of the woods, then sorry to disappoint."
Minerva was even more at a loss. Who was this girl?
"And, what was that-?"
Yuki was cut off by the sound of the fence behind them breaking. Turning in its direction, they found none other than Arabella's Curse standing between the newly made gap.
"Minerva!" The Curse spat the woman's name with venom.
"A-Arabella?" Minerva muttered her friend's name more poignantly, hope written on her expression.
Yuki was not as thrilled. "I suggest you ignore that. Your friend's gone. Big and ugly over there is just the resentment she harbored in life that's been crystallized into what you see before you."
Minerva, too beside herself with grief, took a step forward, prompting Yuki to place herself protectively in front of the woman. "I am telling you. Do not-"
"She-She could be-" Minerva's pleading was cut off when the creature continued speaking.
"Minerva, you…all of you…you think I didn't suffer…?" Arabella's Curse kept seething. "Filthy…filthy…hypocrites…ALL OF YOU!"
"What you're hearing right now isn't exactly pleasantries and well wishes, so what makes you think that's, Arabella was it?" Yuki said to the witch, eyes still glued on the Curse. Minerva, her emotions in chaos, failed to respond, only able to listen.
"All we are…are accessories…" Arabella's Curse ranted. "Just so you can all pretend you're better than them!"
"It's getting smarter," Yuki thought to herself. "Also not good."
"No…" Minerva whispered, knowing full well what was implied. The old witch was shaking her head in denial, her grip around her wand tightening. Tears were in her eyes. "Arabella, that's not true."
Yuki quirked an intrigued brow. She wasn't a fan of making presumptions, but whatever the issues this Arabella person went through sounded sensitive. "I've heard enough. I'm ending this."
Minerva turned to her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I'm going to take it down," Yuki explained, cracking her knuckles. "To surmise, granny, I'm no witch. Close, but not quite. I'm what's referred to as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, one who's specialized in taking care of baddies like this. Curses have an instinctual drive to haunt, torment and kill anything with a pulse, and if we leave it be, there's a damn good chance it'll grow even stronger."
Minerva blinked. If any of what this girl was saying was the slightest bit true, then did that mean she was some new rank of Curse Breaker? She would have known forthwith per her connections to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that there existed wandless wizards and witches breaking curses with their bare hands, which should be unprecedented since as far as her knowledge covering the field, there was little in the way of dispelling curses through fisticuffs unless there were certain specifications. She herself was fairly well versed in counter charms. Plus, from the girl's apparent age, she would have been of prodigious talent to practice wandless magic against these curses. She would have pegged her as a graduate of Hogwarts, but the name 'Tsukumo Yuki' had never so much as passed its halls.
"I'll provide you cover fire," Minerva offered helpfully, choosing to put aside everything else for now, seeing as Arabella's Curse was finished with her mad tangent, and just in time as it tilted its head up at the sky and shot out another rain of acid.
Yuki likewise didn't have time to iron over the details, quick on her feet as she grabbed Minerva and sprang them out of the way far enough for the rain to miss. Arabella's Curse clicked its tongue, deciding to change tactics. Its cheeks puffed once more, though this time, it churned and gargled the acid within its mouth before taking a deep breath through its flat nostrils, and pulled its upper body back as far it could.
'PTOO!'
Violently jerking forward, it launched another glob of acid that was faster than its preceding shots. Much faster, and more compressed, enabling it to catch Yuki off guard by forcing her to shield herself with her bare arms. She skidded back from the blow, the force dragging her across the lawn that sent grass and soil flying everywhere.
Minerva saw this and assumed the girl to be critically injured, having failed to cast a shield at the last second. Consequently, her robes caught just some of the acid, though thankfully, a reflexive raising of her sleeve spared her face. She wasted no time in acting to remove the foul solution with her magic. To her confusion and panic, however, the acid remained. Using her other sleeve, she covered her nose to keep the stench out of her lungs, still feeling the burn from having inhaled the fumes earlier.
"Protego!" She wasted no time in casting a shield when she saw Arabella's Curse about to fire at her next, only to be blown back when something collided with her stomach.
Yuki dashed past her, at the same time that the witch felt something stop her trajectory. Winded and disoriented, Minerva looked down to assess the damage, and the witch blanched upon seeing the acid having hit her dead on, a thick black liquid frantically eating through her robes to reach her belly at a sizzling rate, the encroaching heat and nauseating fumes causing her to panic, her breathing becoming ragged and burning more of her throat. She tried another removal charm, which again proved ineffective, and hissed when she felt the first stinging of pain on her stomach, knowing full well that it would only worsen by the second lest she do something.
What was this? Was it truly a curse? Could she simply not be using the right spell?
Alas, before she could wrestle over it further, Minerva felt herself becoming lightheaded. She wasn't young anymore, that much she acknowledged, yet still, she could say with some certainty that she wasn't yet at her limit. The only other likelihood was that the acid carried a poison. Gritting her teeth, she casted charm after charm to cleanse herself of the vile toxin, weakening her stamina further, but to her astonishment, it resiliently clung on.
Yuki on her end was set on ending the beast quickly, pouring much of her enhanced Cursed Energy into her technique. Arabella's Curse readied back another shot, its aim going for the sorceress' legs, then peeled forward to release. The young woman sidestepped in a blur of movement to evade, disappearing from the monster's line of sight…
…and reappearing just right above to bring her fist down on the Curse's head, the blow plowing through and rending its body in two, her energy producing a tiny shockwave that scattered the remains. After checking that the thing was dead and dissolving, Yuki looked back to see Minerva being supported by her Shikigami, Garuda.
The snake-like creature was careful as it gently laid Minerva on the ground, whose breath was coming out labored, the pain only becoming increasingly unbearable.
So, this was it.
This was her time of glory. Only as a casualty instead of going down fighting. She was never really one for envisioning a glamorous death. That was for rookies and upstarts. Or Moody.
Her vision had yet to go blurry, which meant she was in for an agonizing number of minutes before the acid ran through her entirely, if the poison wouldn't send her into shock first.
Closing her eyes, her thoughts took their time, everything having gone quiet, sunlight filtering in through the leaves of the tree she was shaded under.
This…wasn't that bad a way to go, really.
Did she have regrets? A few, but only one truly stood out amongst the variety.
"Dougal…" she muttered, hot tears welling in her eyes. She could still remember those days clearly. So clearly like she was just waking up from a dream, and she was back home in Scotland, and he would be there to greet her. They'd stroll through the fields of his father's farm, exchanging small talk and sweet nothings, echoes of their promises to one another.
It was a grand, magical time of her youth.
She could still picture his handsome face, and hear his comforting voice, almost envisioning him sitting right next to her. Alas, she no longer had any strength to move her body, her wand lying carelessly from where she was sent flying.
Her wand…
She curled the fingers of her right hand in reflex at the mere thought of it. She could almost feel the familiar grain brush against the tips delicately.
Minerva blinked her eyes open for what would be her final moments, expecting life to soon abandon her, light continuing to sparkle through the leaves…and spotting a face hovering between the canopy and her, the young blonde woman looking down at her with a smooth grin.
"Had a nice nap, granny?"
A scowl appeared on Minerva's wizened face. The nerve on such a girl. That she would be so nonchalant over someone dyi-
Minerva blinked once more, taking keen note that she was still breathing. Her chest rose upon taking an experimental intake of air, and she slowly, carefully sat herself up. She was mildly startled when she found her wand back in her hand, nearly letting it fall.
"Figured you needed that back," Yuki told her, standing back up and retreating to give her some space. "Is that your Cursed Tool?"
Minerva was at a loss for the umpteenth time that day, the bizarre situation leaving her more than a little perplexed. She swept her gaze about her surroundings to assess the damage, then looked down at her person to do the same for her injuries, only to find a surprising sight.
Examining herself carefully, her free hand found the exposed part of her stomach and ran her fingers over unblemished skin, where there should have been a severe burn, though she couldn't keep herself from wincing in fear that she was simply delirious, the acid having made a hole that revealed her midriff. Ignoring her sense of modesty for the time being, she addressed the young woman standing over her with a confused, "What happened? Where's…"
"Yeah, I exorcized it," Yuki answered, idly casting her gaze around, her senses heightened from the battle.
"Ex…" Minerva tried to say, before minding the state she was in. "Reparo!" With a flick of her wand, the spell immediately did its work in mending her clothes, which Yuki watched with curiosity. Once done, the old witch got to her feet and aimed her wand at the places where the battle had wrought the most damage. She didn't think it mattered much, but it was best to leave as little evidence behind.
She then turned her attention to Yuki, who was looking at her contemplatively, a hand on her chin. "Is that your Innate Technique?" Yuki asked, pointing the same finger at the older woman.
Innate Technique?
Minerva upped her guard, getting the distinct sense that this woman wasn't a normal witch, having kept a close eye on not only Arabella's Curse but the odd feats and spells this girl had done. She was also taken aback by how her life was no longer in peril, alleviated of both the acid and her injuries.
To this, Minerva, a logical woman who had years of experience under her belt, asked, "Who exactly are you, Miss…Tsukumo, was it?"
Yuki, not wishing to make a bad first impression, replied, "Aye. Tsukumo Yuki, at your service. Special Grade Sorcerer, high school dropout and freelance exorcist. You?"
Minerva…sweatdropped. If that was what qualified for a good first impression, then she dreaded the possibilities of the opposite. But, one thing from all of that did stand out to her. "Exorcist?" The Transfiguration Professor shook her head in disappointment. It would seem that this girl wasn't part of the Department after all, just a witch using her magic as a means to moonlight as some huckster. But, that still didn't explain the things she could do, nor the rest of what the two of them had faced. She at least had the decency to heal her.
"Let me guess, you're thinking to yourself that I'm some kind of scam artist," Yuki said. She knew that look.
Minerva didn't seem too keen to respond quite yet, her thoughts scrambling back to that…Curse; if the girl's claims were to be believed, and how it was unlike anything she had ever seen or knew of. Magical Bestiary was not her forte, nor were ghosts/spirits ever known to be hostile (with the exception of a certain poltergeist). Whatever those creatures were, she needed a more coherent explanation, and this girl could be the key if her vanquishing of them was evidence enough. Unless she was merely using her magic or some other means to facilitate that madness.
"And now you're wondering to yourself what those things were," Yuki guessed correctly with a roll of her eyes, the knuckles of her right hand resting on her hip. She knew that look, too.
Minerva harrumphed at the girl's bluntness. "Young lady, I happen to have the unfortunate, but rewarding occupation of teaching young and brazen wizards and witches such as yourself. And for you to even relinquish your studies is frankly against everything I stand for and then some. Speaking of which, what are you even doing here?"
Yuki held a hand up. "Okay, first off, I think I'm getting a good idea on what you're all about. I just," she turned away, holding back a chortle with her other hand, "I just can't believe something like this is actually real, hahaha! Damn, I need to look up that book again."
Minerva's expression conveyed mild confusion. "Book?"
"N-Never mind," Yuki said curtly. "So, if I'm getting this right, there exists a school somewhere that actually teaches magic. Actual rabbit out-of-the-hat magic. Is that much correct?"
"Indeed," Minerva confirmed drily, cocking a brow over the mention of that ridiculous parlor trick. "Though you should already know this, unless you're…not a witch."
"Nope," Yuki confirmed easily, shaking her head. "At least, not the kind that falls under your categorization."
"What? But…those spells," Minerva stammered. "No mere Muggle should be even capable of such feats."
"Okay, that's the second time I've heard that word and I'm already not a fan of it," Yuki expressed flatly. "And they're technically not spells. Not the kind that you seem to be used to," she expounded. "That was just martial arts imbued with my Cursed Energy to exorcize those Spirits."
"Martial arts? Imbue? C…Cursed Energy?!" She didn't know if the poor girl was mad or simply ignorant, that last part not sitting right with her at all. "Miss Tsukumo, are you by any chance…practicing Dark Magic?"
Yuki sharply sensed the change in the woman's tone and demeanor, Minerva taking a cautious step back from her. "Let me take another guess that only the bad guys in your side of the world use Dark Magic, which you now assume mine to be."
Tightening the hold on her wand, suspicions were beginning to fire off in her head. Was this girl the Death Eater? A young recruit out to prove herself by wishing to abduct or maybe even harm Harry? It would make a good amount of sense that she may even be the root of all this chaos, having simply lost control of the situation in her haste after unleashing those creatures…
…which would easily make her responsible for Arabella's death.
Minerva pointed her wand at her, eyes now brimming with hostility and vengeance. "I implore you to cooperate, girl."
Rather than be upset or defensive like Minerva expected, the reaction she was instead met with proved baffling. "Go ahead," Yuki said nonchalantly, scratching her cheek with a finger, no longer even looking at the woman.
"You think I won't?" Minerva challenged, visibly taken aback. Was she putting on a brave front?
A vicious grin appeared on the younger girl's lips to the witch's alarm, as if the thought of her being harmed excited her. "If you have the guts for it, granny, then go ahead. Shoot me with one of those fancy spells."
Minerva stiffened in irritation, a tick mark appearing on her forehead at being called that again, the two now standing far apart in a one-sided showdown.
"Stupefy," Minerva exclaimed decisively, fully intending to incapacitate the girl and have Dumbledore sort her out. When the familiar flash collided with Yuki's center-of-mass, rather than be thrown back or fall into unconsciousness, the girl simply remained standing, none the worse.
Yuki cut the woman an unimpressed glance and asked, "Is that it?"
Gaping, Minerva shot at her again. " Stupefy!"
"You know, I kinda expected more-"
"Stupefy!"
"Hey, uh, maybe you should-"
"Stupefy!"
"Listen, I think you should stop. I'm-"
"Stupefy!"
Her pride as a witch pushing her, Minerva kept casting stunner after stunner, until…
An intense pulse of dark blue energy erupted out of Yuki without warning, startling the witch and causing her to fall back by several steps, her wand still trained on the girl. Believing there to be retaliation, Yuki instead looked down to examine her hands in fascination, the energy surrounding her entire body. Minerva watched as this strange energy seemed to flutter and dance wildly similarly to flames, like the young woman had caught on fire.
So, her hypothesis was correct. Whatever the nature of this magic was, it was compatible with Cursed Energy, or rather, her body absorbed the spell and…digested or converted it into Cursed Energy. Not only that, it was like she had just downed over a dozen bottles of Lipovitans at once. She felt incredible, energized, like she could take on an entire army of Cursed Spirits and still have left over to arm wrestle over two hundred Olympic level strongmen. Without rest.
Minerva gawked at the girl in surprise and dread, eyeing the mysterious energy with worry. Even from where she was standing, the hairs from the top of her head to the tips of her toes were tingling uncomfortably, an ominous sensation that sent a chill running down her spine. "What is this? It's like…"
It was similar in feeling from being in proximity to those abominations, and being doused with that vile gunk that had come close to ending her life.
Yuki did not fail to notice this, carefully observing the woman's discomfort. "I wonder…" As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the air around her shifted, and the energy enveloping her body turned from a forebodingly dark blue, to a soothing white from initiating Reversed Curse Technique.
A truly invaluable technique that she had learned almost by instinct. A testament to her raw talent and naturally immense reserves. If she hadn't acted quickly, the woman would have surely perished from that cursed acid, having successfully purged it from her and mending her injuries. It was just one of the reasons why she would have been an asset for the Association back home, which served as ample incentive for her to keep it a secret.
Minerva's eyes widened in alarm, snapped out of her initial shock and ready to apparate to the Dursley's. She needed to reach Harry. Before she could, Yuki was sharp enough to sense her intent and made a fast grab for the witch's wand arm, with Minerva unable to cancel the spell on time. Again, Yuki felt herself being pulled into the turbulence that was Apparition. If she could place the experience into words, it was like being tossed around a giant blender as the g-forces from all angles were working to tear her body apart. But she held strong, not knowing what would befall her and unwilling to find out if she was to let go prematurely.
When she once again felt stable ground, she released her hold and went down on one knee, a little winded. Minerva, getting hold of her own senses much quicker, stepped back, ready to launch a much stronger spell. "Stupefy Duo!"
Not even a split second of hearing the woman speak, Yuki vanished to dodge the spell, unwilling to test how much she could absorb before coming to a limit. " So she can apparate?" Minerva thought in dread. With her eyes peeled along with her heart running a marathon, she was priming to fire an Impediment Jinx. Her senses attuned to her casting, it didn't take long for her to pick up a rustling to her left. "Impedi-"
Yuki teleported to her side, greatly startling the witch before the spell could even fly, allowing the young sorceress to deftly catch the woman's wrist. With minimal strength, all the while keeping the tip aimed away from her, she fluidly twisted Minerva's arm behind her and squeezed, applying just the right amount of pressure until her grip loosened. Once the sorceress' other hand caught the magical tool, she slipped away from reach, leaving a disarmed Minerva to nurse her now sore wrist, her arm having gone limp from the tension that had been placed to her joints.
Minerva was absolutely stunned, barely able to wrap her head around the sequence of events that had just transpired. She had anticipated the woman to do a standard Disarming Charm, or even a curse; anything. Very contrary to that expectation, she had been relieved of her weapon with nothing nothing else but the young woman's bare hands. Did the girl even have a wand of her own? It would seem that she was now at the younger witch's mercy. She knew some wandless spells, just the right ones to take the young woman by surprise, but…something told her that doing so would only worsen her situation. Like a primal instinct nestled between her logic and desperation, that whatever she tried, wouldn't work.
Minerva watched with wary eyes as the girl did not attack then and there, instead taking a moment to examine the curious wooden stick in interest, each end held by both hands. "An actual wand, huh?" Yuki mused, her facial expression like that of a child's that just found something out of a fantasy was real. A look which Minerva knew well. A grin was tugging at the corner of the blonde's lips as she continued, "It's no Cursed Tool, but I can definitely feel something going on with this thing."
The Transfiguration Professor could barely speak out a word of defiance, her mind going critical on how she was to take back control of the situation, and becoming more than a tad impatient. Where in Merlin's name was Albus?!
Headmaster's Office…
Hm, he could go and catch up to Minerva's location, wand blazing and ready to bring the curious young Sorceress in. But then, he wouldn't get to enjoy this new blend of tea he was having, a gift from Cornelius, taking a dainty sip as he continued to just observe the sequence of events. He was sure Minerva would understand. He knew her well enough to be a resiliently resourceful woman, so there should be no need for him to intervene.
Privet Drive…
Minerva could feel a cold sweat coming on, but she couldn't let fear override whatever plan she was brewing, whipping her gaze to a familiar house, the two of them standing in front of the outside fence.
If she could just-
"Here," Yuki said simply, swinging Minerva's wand to her.
"...Eh?"
Yuki waited for the woman to catch up as she pushed the wand towards its owner. "Go on. Take it."
Minerva blinked, staring gauntly at the person that not so long ago had overpowered her as easily as if she were a newborn babe. "W-What are you playing at, girl?"
Yuki rolled her eyes. "As much as I would just love for us to have an epic battle of biblical proportions, I'm damn well sure I could just as easily break your neck by looking at you funny." And she very well could with how charged up she was. Minerva, on the other hand, continued to be on guard, not a stranger to the idle deception.
"Oh, for-" Yuki made a grab for the confounded witch's arm and thrusted the wand directly into her hand. "There."
It would be about two minutes before Minerva recovered some of her bearings, peering down at her wand, as if to make sure that she was holding it again, then at Yuki, who stood with her hands on her hips with a blank look on her face, perhaps waiting how she would respond. Minerva could not find an ounce of trepidation in the bizarre young girl as she read her body language.
Strong.
That was the only word that resounded in her mind, as if by pure instinct, that no matter what she did, nothing would pose as a credible threat. She wasn't a threat. It was like…
It was like…she was facing…
Yuki snapped her fingers to bring the witch back down earth. "You still with us, granny?"
Now that definitely gave Minerva pause. "Young lady, has no one ever introduced you to the concept of respecting your elders?"
Yuki's grin relaxed into a soft smile. "Not the kind of elders I know, but I'll draw an exception for you on account of me not getting the same vibes. Now, let's start over before either of us start playing musical chairs again. I'm Tsukumo Yuki, a Jujutsu Sorcerer from Japan. You might not know what that is, but I'll explain later when everything's calmed down. As for why I'm even here, vacation, and I was just passing by on my bike before, well, I don't think I even need to go into that part."
Minerva's features betrayed her returning dread. "Calmed down? You mean there's more of those things?"
"I should hope not," Yuki answered with a snort. "I managed to take care of the first wave before coming across you and the terrible twos."
"How did those things even appear here?" Minerva asked, her stomach dropping that there had actually been a small army of those abominations earlier if she was to take the girl's fantastical words at face value.
"Like I said, those things are called Cursed Spirits, and they manifested from the accumulated Cursed Energy that's regularly leaked by humans," Yuki explained. "There's more to it than that, but we're strapped for time. Why? Because if we don't get into that house over there," she pointed a thumb at the Dursley's residence, "we are going to be in for some serious shit."
Minerva was reeling from the girl's vulgarity, but again her suspicion was aroused. Was she truly a Death Eater? "Miss Tsukumo. While this has all been rather fascinating, I must tell you that I don't…can't trust you."
"That's fine," Yuki said with a shrug. "I don't really trust myself either. That's a joke by the way."
"However," Minerva conceded, ignoring the attempt at humor, "am I correct to assume that you were the one that saved my life?"
"Uh, yes?" Yuki answered with a cocked brow. "Is that a faux pas where you're from?"
Minerva was again taken aback. "Certainly not, though I cannot help but be curious. Even the most complex healing spells would still require observation. Mine was quite severe, but now, it's as if I hadn't even been wounded at all."
Yuki smiled. "You were pretty out of it, so maybe I could show you, though you might just get a firsthand demonstration soon anyway."
"Really? Why?"
The answer to that would come in the form of a loud explosion that tore the Dursley's roof apart, scattering pieces of it on the lawn, the street and the neighboring houses. Minerva reacted far better than she did last, casting a shield charm encompassing them both.
To her horror, upon lifting her head to see the damage, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, as she could only gape at a creature that was like out of a nightmare.
It was gigantic, nearly spread throughout the entire roof it emerged out of. The body as a whole was a dark translucent color, the upper portion shaped like a grotesque egg, and had stringy veins all over that pulsed like a hundred organs. A disgusting sound that made the witch recoil. Two, uneven shaped orbs, one far bigger than the other, were sitting unevenly at the very top of the creature, which might just be the eyes, though Minerva could not bring herself to know for certain. A multitude of mouths dotted the rest of the monster's frame, each harboring sharp and thin teeth, opening and closing with sounds of gurgling, squealing, like the death knells of pigs by the dozen being slaughtered. Numerous long tendrils were swinging about, some dangerously flicking and snapping in eagerness for prey.
"That," Yuki thumbed at the sight, her back still facing the house. "Because of that."
Terrified beyond belief, Minerva's lips nonetheless made a perfect 'O' shape in comprehension.
Something I cooked up for the holidays.