Iori Daemona Angel
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I’m a Mage (A Multiversal Walk Fanfiction) prologue + chp 1
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 23:44:53 +0000 UTCA/N: This is something written for fun.
Starting world:
- Harry Potter-Horcrux Hunt
Disclaimer: I don't own Square Enix, Harry Potter, or any of the fandoms composing this story.
(Every character depicted in the story below and who does any hanky pankies is a consenting legal adult over the age of 18)
# # #
Prologue
# # #
I was in a hurry, and I waited for the green light on the crosswalk. This was my last interview of the day, and I was tired on my feet. Finding a job in 2023 was difficult, even if you were qualified for it. I am an IT specialist in network and communication. I should be able to find work, right?
Well, it seemed that the field was saturated in Paris; I should have listened to my friend and gone south. Toulouse is good at this time of the year, and work is abundant.
The little man went from red to green on the sign on the crosswalk, the people around me moved, and I followed without thinking. It was at this point that I heard multiple people shout behind me; a truck had missed seeing the red light and was now charging toward me. The world stopped before the truck crushed me and turned me into bloody meat paste.
I was confused and terrified as I watched everything stop around me. This reminded me of that scene in Tanya the Evil's anime. If this were an anime, a voice would greet me…
“Hello, mortal.” An impossibly beautiful voice rang all around me.
“Aaaah!” I screamed in surprise, startled by the voice. “Please tell me you're not being X…”
The voice gasped in outrage. “Oh, no. I am not like that egocentric godling. I do not bully mortals for my sense of satisfaction.”
I sighed in relief. “G-good.” Looking at the truck about to hit my unmoving body, I asked, “So what's happening? Am I going to die?”
The voice was blunt as it replied, “Yes, you are… unless you accept my offer.”
Nothing was free in life. “What do you want from me?”
The voice explained, “You have a powerful soul, and I and my associates are looking for agents, fixers to do our bidding as we can't act fully in your lower dimension.”
So basically, I would become a supernatural janitor… great. I looked at the truck about to splatter me. “I accept! Please, I don't want to die…”
The voice chuckled. “As expected, you've got a tenacious streak. But once I take you, you won't be able to come back to your world and omniversal cluster, are you fine with that? I will need to make it look like you died.”
This made me think, I have a family, friends, and a dog at home. I asked, “Can't I send a note to my parents and my friends?”
“I'm sorry, you cannot do that.” The voice sounded regretful but firm.
I sighed in dejection. “That’s disappointing.”
But the voice gave me hope. “Don't worry, once you've finished your tasks and gained enough power and knowledge, you'll be free to return without risk.”
I frowned. “What do those tasks entail?”
With a charismatic and entrancing tone, the voice revealed, “Saving worlds supposed to be destroyed.”
“Oh.” Shit.
“Yes.” The voice said as if she had read my mind.
I thought hard about this...
What do Gods get out of this ‘Saving Doomed Worlds’ job? If they are all powerful, they can't be good, but if they are all good, they can't be all powerful. Was this why they needed agents? “What do you gain from saving them?”
“In the long run? Energy, faith, knowledge. We're from a cabal of Gods led by the Enlightened One, Dark Lilith, the Mistress of this quadrant of the omniverse.”
So they depend on faith energy, but how did they gather it? While I thought that, the voice continued to speak.
“We will give you three boons, choose wisely, as we will be sending you right away to a world in dire need of help.”
This attracted my attention; what truly mattered in this world was power and the will to change your surroundings by making them better. “Can I wish for power?”
The voice laughed. “You can wish for anything that doesn't hurt the cabal.”
Possibilities ran through my mind. If I were going to be sent to other worlds, I could min-max this bitch! “Okay… give me some time to think about it.”
I was transported into a white room, without my body; I heard the cry of the people, and a huge shock. I didn’t dare look behind me to see my previous body completely pasted. Focusing on something else, I spent one hour deciding what I wanted to happen. First, I wanted to look different. I was a 30-something middle-aged woman, out of shape and leading a sedentary life. I wanted to change and love myself; hmm… I wanted to look cute, adorable… as if I could do no wrong. I knew exactly what I wanted, and my first boon was to have the body of Yuna from Final Fantasy 10; her body, powers, skills, and equipment.
“Granted.” Said the voice, and light shone over my form, and I found myself in another body, which was deceptively strong despite looking so cute. A mirror appeared in the white room; walking up to it, I saw my reflection.
Heterochromatic eyes looked back at me in the mirror, one blue and one green. Now I have shoulder-length brunette hair with blue-beaded earrings on my right ear, hidden by a lock of my hair, woven into blue beads with gold rings around the larger, middle bead. I was 162 cm tall, athletic, with medium-sized and apple-shaped perky breasts. Like Yuna, I wore a purple pleated, flower-patterned hakama; black boots; a black spaghetti-string camisole under a white sash that wraps around her neck and over her chest; and a yellow patterned obi with a chōchō musubi knot and a decorative obidome to clinch the cords. Two separate, kimono-like pink and white sleeves secured by purple cords complete the outfit.
“What is your second boon, child?” The voice urged me.
I stopped admiring myself in the mirror and thought about it; in my memories, I could remember everything Yuna has done and what she’s able to do. But what I lacked was overwhelming power, power enough to burn the world many times over; however, I would use this power wisely. I knew what I wanted! I wished for the same combat experience, powers, skills, and abilities as Anos Voldigoad.
The voice didn’t answer me right away, but it finally said, “Granted. However, child… you’ll be changed. Please hold on.”
The white light suddenly assaulted me, turned completely red, and I heard myself scream as pain wrecked my body. The world went black. I only woke up some time later when I saw Anos smiling down at me. He extended his hand to me, I took it hesitantly, and he kissed it; then he disappeared, causing me to wake up.
“You’re now a Demon Hybrid, please be careful. Some worlds won’t take it well. Learn to hide your new heritage.” I heard the voice tell me.
“Sure…” Fuck that had hurt.
“What is your last boon?”
Standing up, I thought about my last wish. Now that I have power and a new body… I needed a way to be able to move through the multiverse. But I was hesitant, as I said, “I wish for the Elder Blood from the Witcher to course through my veins.”
The voice once again asked me if I wanted what I said. “Are you sure that you want to have the Lara gene, child? There will be consequences.”
I asked boldly, “I’m powerful enough not to suffer from them, right?”
The voice laughed. “Yes, you’re strong, comically so.”
“Then give it to me.” I said with a smile.
This time, I felt just a bit of discomfort when the light struck me; it turned from white to green. Once it stopped, the voice declared, “Your boon has been granted. You’ll be able to teleport and go to other universes.”
Then she urged, “Now you must go, child. Your task awaits.”
Before I could say anything, I was dropped into a blue wormhole and into my new life.
# # #
Chapter 1
Part 1: Landing in the deep end
I had a lot of time to think in the wormhole, at least thirty minutes. Enough time to find a new name. I chose: Cirilla Luxia Andromeda, because I always loved how beautiful it was, and I am a Witcher fan, and I liked how badass the full name of Noctis in FF15 was, so I modeled my name after his own.
Andromeda was my favorite galaxy. I hope that I will never have to meet the real Cirilla. She might not like that a half-demon has taken her name. I took into account the fact that I was a hybrid now; people might not like me for it in the worlds that I would visit, so I needed to come to terms with that.
I also accessed the small inventory available to me; there was some kind of pocket dimension attached to my soul with all my equipment, and there was some stuff there, like weapons and survival gear. ‘Strange, I didn't ask for that?’
Suddenly, I saw light on the other side of the portal. Bracing myself, I readied for the inevitable landing. I was catapulted out of the wormhole and landed on all four, eliciting a small cry from me.
Raising my head, I saw that I was in a dark forest, but it was still day from what I could gather from my senses. I’m in a clearing where four people, three girls and a boy, looked at me with some kind of stick pointed at my person. The redheaded girl with green eyes who seemed to be the leader commanded, “Don't move!”
The bushy-haired brunette next to her added, “Who are you?!”
Still on my knees, I raised my hands in surrender, “Um, sorry. I just arrived here. My portal still needs some work, it seems.”
“Her clothes are strange, oh, and she's wrackspurt free. Guys, she's not dangerous.” A blonde cutie walked up to me, still with her stick in hand, and helped me up.
“Um, thanks.” I said while dusting my hakama.
The girl who helped me has protuberant silver eyes with waist-length, straggly, dirty blonde hair. She looked quite distracted as if she were looking through me.
She seemed to have decided to lower her guard as she put her stick in a holster. “I am Luna, what's your name?”
Wait, aren't those wands? Am I in Harry Potter? With shock, I answered, “Cirilla, I've just arrived… wherever this is?”
I looked around me, disturbed by the magical energy in the forest. Luna opened her dreamy silver eyes wide. “You don't know?”
I shrugged, “Last time I checked, I was in a place less humid and more sunny than wherever this is.”
Luna, Luna, Luna? LUNA LOVEGOOD?! I am really in Harry Potter. The little blonde replied, “We're in the Forest of Dean?”
“...” I had no idea where this was; raising an eyebrow, I motioned to her to be more accurate than this.
“In the UK?” Luna continued.
Ah, so we're in Britain. “You mean Albion?”
The Witch looked at me strangely. “That’s the ancient name of this country… intriguing.”
Interrupting us was the beautiful redhead with the glasses. She walked up to us, wand in hand. “Whoever you are, you should leave Britain as soon as possible.”
She was pretty, with gem-like green eyes, pouty lips, and ample clothes which surely hid a great figure. The girl's expression spoke of exhaustion and insomnia; the poor dear needed her beauty sleep, in my opinion.
“Why?” I frowned.
With a look of frustration, the girl said, “Because the Dark Lord won and controls everything.”
So Voldemort won. This was the horcrux hunt? “Dark Lord? Please tell me more.”
Before the redhead could blow up at me and chase me out, the brunette, who I suppose is Hermione, put a hand on the redhead's arm in a calming fashion. “We better do it over tea, then.”
ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ
I was inside the magical Yurt-like shelter of this small, eclectic group. There was a cat, an owl, and a toad in their respective small habitats or perches. I was sitting on a single sofa, facing the large one where Luna and the other looked at me sip on my tea and raised an eyebrow.
It was laced with some kind of potion. No, two different ones, it seems that Hermione was downright paranoid and wasn't taking any risks.
“Interesting flavor.” I saw Hermione tense when I said that. I snootily commented, ”To despoil tea and a conversation started in good faith. No wonder your Dark Lord won; you have no manners.”
But I continued drinking, thanks to my condition as a Demon Hybrid, the potions made for Humans don't work on me completely. Hermione looked down in shame at being caught; to quickly cut through the sudden tension, Luna asked, “So your name is Cirilla, right? Where do you come from?”
I continued sipping on my tea, put the cup on the saucer, and said, “I don't know if you'll believe me, but let's get this out of the way. I am from another world.”
“You're lying, it's impossible.” Hermione stood up from the sofa, pointing her finger, accusing me.
I rolled my eyes. She was so young, so ignorant of what’s really out there because she confined her mind to what books told her were possible. “Young Lady, I assure you that I am not lying.”
Hermione glared. “Do you have any proof?”
I smiled back at her. “Sure.”
“Fless.” My voice resonated in the yurt as I chanted a spell that allows the caster to fly. My butt left the comfortable cushion of the sofa as I floated in the air.
I stood up and moved from left to right by just willing it, at the same time, the young people were losing their shit over this feat of magic.
“Wandless magic!” Luna cried out in fascination.
“She can fly?!” The redhead, whom I started to suspect was this version of Harry Potter, looked at me, mesmerized. Was this envy that I saw on her face?
Hermione started giving an exposé as she walked toward me and started looking under my hakama’s skirt. “Flying magic exists, but only Death Eaters know how to use it. I don't see the black clouds they used to propel themselves.”
That girl had no manners. I batted away her hand, making her squeak a bit.
“Grega.” I chanted, and a ball of flame appeared over my palm. I made it float in orbit around my head two times, and then it stopped over my palm once again. When I closed my hand into a fist, I snuffed it out of existence.
“What are you? This isn’t human magic.” Luna informed everyone with awe in her voice.
I decided to give them a freebie. “I am a Mage, I don't need those fancy sticks you use to do magic. I can still use a focus for precision work with my magic like you, though. But I don't need it.”
Luna and Hermione looked at each other; the blonde was the first to speak to me, though. “Can you teach your brand of magic?”
Landing back on the sofa, I said, “It should be possible, but there might be spells beyond your power. From what I can see, you have tiny magical reserves compared to the people from my world. Advanced spells might be too exhausting for you. But maybe I could teach you white and holy magic, they are low cost for humans like you.”
I could teach them that. It was low cost compared to Demon and Spirit Magic; the Final Fantasy magic system could be a boon here as well. Luna and Hermione seemed thrilled; female Harry too, her eyes twinkled with anticipation. Neville was still playing the strong, silent guy.
“Can you give us some space? We need to discuss this.”
I didn't even promise that I would teach them, aren't they jumping the gun? With a shrug, I said, “Sure, children.”
Then I returned to sip on my tea and eat biscuits…
ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ
(Neville Longbottom)
In the compartmentalized bedroom inside the Yurt, the girls were in discussion about the new stranger, Cirilla, who appeared right after Ron left them because he was such a jealous idiot and a bastard. Neville can't believe that the other boy flaked on them at the first sign of trouble.
The girls wanted to learn magic from the older woman, who said that she was a Mage, capital M, not a Witch. Neville wanted to know what the difference was besides being able to use wandless magic. When he had seen her fly with just a word, he was so surprised.
The woman didn't look like she could hurt anyone, and she was… beautiful.
“Can we trust Cirilla?” Hazel, the leader of the group, asked Luna.
The dreamy-eyed girl answered, “She's not a Death Eater, her left arm is unmarked, and she's too… bright to my Magic sight to be a dark-aligned magic user.”
Dark magic left… stains on the aura of a magic user; he could trust Luna in spotting Death Eaters, even unmarked ones. She possessed some kind of magic vision that showed her how people felt around her and a plethora of other details that Neville never understood.
“If Luna says she's not a bad person, I trust her. She's a good judge of character.” Neville gave his opinion while waving at the blonde.
Luna smiled at him, then she became serious as she revealed, “She's not completely human.”
Hazel gasped. “What is she then?”
Luna sat at Neville's side and crossed her arms. “I have no idea.”
Hermione asked, “Do you think she will teach us?”
Luna laughed. “Maybe not, she didn't like it when Hermione drugged her tea.”
Hermione squeaked cutely again; Neville liked to tease her for that reason… the bushy-haired girl defended herself, “Hey… I was just trying to look out for us!”
The boy could understand why Hermione did it; the veritaserum and babbling potions were taken right from Neville's grandmother's playbook. Neville sighed and said, “Apologize.”
“What?” Hermione opened her eyes wide.
“Apologize to her, Mione. Fix this, will you?” Neville insisted.
The brunette Witch nodded. “O-okay, I will.”
As for Hazel, she spoke out loud as she made a decision. “I will ask her to teach us Magic, and… Ah, we need to tell Cirilla about what is going on!”
Neville rolled his eyes. Why were those girls so lacking in social grace? “You finally realized.”
Hazel slapped his arm. “Bite me, Neville!”
The boy just laughed at her in camaraderie. Luna passed an arm around the redhead's shoulders, and she was blushing like a tomato.
ヽ( ⌒o⌒)人(⌒-⌒ )ﾉ
Back with Cirilla…
I needed to know what kind of Harry Potter alternate reality I landed in; relying on my meta-knowledge was clearly not the solution here. My patron hinted that she was sending me to doomed worlds; this meant that Hazel and her little group eventually failed.
Clearly, something bad was going to happen, and to guess what, I need to know the children's story. I still didn't know the name of the red-headed female Harry Potter; the girl didn't look like she'd been abused by her relatives like her male counterpart.
While I thought that, the children came back from their impromptu strategic gathering in the separate compartment of this tent. The four kids looked at me in silence while staying out of reach as I ate a biscuit. The redhead whispered to the brunette, pushing her forward, “Come on, do it, Mione.”
Hermione looked embarrassed and a bit afraid; she didn't even look into my eyes. “Umm. Miss Cirilla, I wish to apologize for drugging you…”
I was of two minds to not accept her apology; who the fuck drugged someone the first time they interacted with them? But I can't be petty, I needed to be responsible and ask her why she did it. With a nod, I crossed my legs and leaned back into the comfortable sofa. “Mhmm, at least you apologized. Don't worry, your potions don't work on me.”
The girl's eyes shone with curiosity. “Huh, why?”
I mildly glared at her. “You're too curious, Hermione. Anyways, I want you to explain why you did it at all.”
It wasn't Hermione who answered my question; it was Luna who walked forward. “For that, Miss Cirilla, we need to tell you about Hazel and the prophecy hanging over her head.”
With a theatrical deep-suffering sigh, I said, “Ah, one of those.” Then I asked with a serious tone, “Is it a true prophecy or a self-fulfilling one? In either case, both can be ignored.”
At least that is what Anos’ knowledge and experience were telling me. Although prophecies often held great importance, they could also cause significant harm if interpreted incorrectly. For example, if a person believed that they were the subject of a prophecy, they could go to great lengths to ensure that it came true (if positive) or take great pains to avoid it (if negative). These efforts could have a ripple effect that could harm innocent bystanders simply for being close to the subject, or if the subject believed those bystanders were obstacles to be overcome in their pursuits.
Yet in the end, it could turn out that such efforts were fruitless, since that person was not the true subject of the prophecy in the first place. That was why they were better ignored, in my opinion.
“What?!” Our resident redhead exclaimed.
Hernione raised her hand as if she were in class. “Umm, what do you mean, there are different types of prophecies?”
I stood up, furious that she didn't know that much. “Of course! Who the hell has been teaching you, kids? This is the basics of divination magic.”
Luna asked as she calmed female Harry, “What does this mean for Hazel?”
Ah, so her name is Hazel, good to know. I began pacing on the expensive carpet as I gathered my thoughts. “...You could have left it alone, but seeing your current state and that you're hiding in this forest, someone interfered or tried to control the prophecy.”
“Dumbledore…” Hazel said with venom in her voice, her green eyes were filled with disappointment and resentment.
I needed to make her focus; I snapped my fingers, emitting a bell-like sound to attract her attention. “Hazel, was it? Tell me about your life, tell me how you all ended up here in this forest.”
She sighed and straightened her round glasses. “This will be a long story… Miss Cirilla.”
“We have all the time in the world, I will listen. Los.” With a snap of my fingers, on the low table, another platter full of biscuits appeared, with a warm serving of tea.
The kids looked at the display of magic with awe. They should be able to do that much already. Hazel sat on the big sofa, her friends around her, and started her tale.
And listen, I did… she began to say how she discovered magic, by talking to garden snakes in her aunt's garden when she was five years old. She lived happily with her aunt, uncle, and cousin and wanted for nothing despite the weird events happening around her, like breaking stuff when she was mad without touching them, or being teleported to the toilet when she really wanted to go.
Hazel's aunt had tried hard to make it seem that she wasn't the cause of those weird events, until her Hogwarts letter arrived one day; Petunia Dursley went… nuts, screaming that those monsters were not going to get her baby girl. But inevitably, Dumbledore came and spoke to the woman and tried to reassure her that Hazel would be safe and that she needed to have control of her magic, or it could get dangerous for her.
The old man spoke about splinching, as it seemed that Hazel was prone to do it when she wanted to go somewhere. Splinching was what occurred when a witch or wizard Apparated or Disapparated unsuccessfully, leaving part of his or her clothes or body behind in their former location. The degree of splinching could range from minimal, such as loss of hair, to life-threatening, such as loss of flesh, muscle, or bone, though the damage was usually repairable.
What primitive magic… Hermione showed me an example of it, and it was basically using a negative thaumic conduit as a way of transportation.
Contrary to the magic users in this world, I used the spell Gatom, which allows instantaneous movement. It was developed by Anos Voldigoad during the Mythical Age, though not many people could use it even back then. This was because while it doesn't require much magic to cast, it is difficult to construct its spell formula, which must be altered according to the spaces it connects. The spell was safe to use; I could leave markers at places I had already been to and transport there as well.
The more I heard about the formal magic in this world, the more I wanted to take those kids, stuff them in a time chamber, and teach them my brand of magic. It must be the Anos and Yuna part of my psyche creating those impulses.
Hazel continued her story after Hermione finished her… lecture on Apparition. After tentatively agreeing to help Hazel control her magic, the redhead and Petunia went to Diagon Alley and got culture shock. She discovered how wizard and common sense had an allergic reaction, as if the two couldn't coexist. Even more so when they thought that a one-year-old toddler defeated an adult wizard somehow, when it was the Potters who had laid a trap to kill the Dark Lord.
Hazel was supposed to be safe in Hogwarts; clearly, Dumbledore lied as he used Hazel and this world's version of the philosopher's stone as bait to lure a dangerous terrorist inside the school. The girl joined Ravenclaw, where she met Hermione and Luna, Neville went to Gryffindor, and they were in different houses, but still became friends.
In her first year, Hazel was confronted with the ghost of Voldemort, the name of that Dark Lord of theirs. Petunia attempted to change Hazel's magical school, only for Dumbledore to threaten her with legal action for doing so. An action that firmly placed Dumbledore as an enemy of young Hazel and her family.
Year after year, her situation became more dangerous; she and Neville had to defeat a giant Basilisk, destroy another ghost of Voldemort. Ginny Weasley was offered the services of a mind healer following her possessed status for most of her first year. It was thanks to the small Weasley that Hazel and Hermione guessed that the Dark Lord had created some sort of Phylacteries to stay anchored in this world…
In her third year, Hazel met the hated Dementors and her Godfather, who was said to be a Death Eater but was, in fact, innocent. Peter Pettigrew, a friend of her parents, proved himself to be still alive and was responsible for selling out her parents and causing her to be orphaned. Hazel's Godfather escaped Azkaban to find Peter, who has been lurking around Hazel, and eliminate the threat he poses.
“What is a dementor?” I interrupted them for more clarification. I knew already, but I wanted a reason to destroy the abominations.
Instead of Hermione, it was Luna who spoke this time. “Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth - or should I say float? They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they revel in decay and despair, they drain warmth, peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them...
Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life, and you will just be an empty shell that has lost its soul. Or at least that’s what Remus Lupin told us at school.” She finished quoting.
I leaned forward and gazed intensely into Luna's eyes. “Dark spirits, I see… and your government placed those around a school full of children?”
She gulped as she saw how intense I was. “Yes…”
Standing up after her answer, I began to pace in the small living room of the yurt. “Clearly, a revolution is needed to stamp out corruption. The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants. It is its natural fertilizer.”
Neville spoke to me for the first time. “You're being rather French about this…”
I stopped pacing and looked at him with a tilt of my head. “But I am French, at least I come from a version of France in my world.”
“It explains your reaction to the ministry…” Hazel commented idly.
I shrugged. “Please continue your story, Hazel.”
“Thanks… where was I? Ah yes, we had proof of the innocence of my Godfather but…” Fudge, the Minister of Magic, attempted to have Sirius Black kissed by a dementor to facilitate the takeover of House Black by the Malfoy family.
I took note of this and waited for the girl to continue. Next summer, at the end of the Quidditch World Cup, the damn Death Eaters started being active. Let's just say that when they returned to school, Hazel and her friend started cramming offensive spells and asked for training from their charm professor, Flitwick.
Then came the announcement of the Triwizard tournament for the 17+ students. Younger students were forbidden to participate, and the only thing protecting the artifact that chose the champions was an age line…
Knowing her luck, Hazel knew that she might be entered against her will and the school would turn against her… again. They did when it was revealed that she is a Parselmouth, an ability considered dark in England when it was the complete opposite. Parselmouth are healers, caretakers, and Guardians of the land in other countries such as India, Japan, or Greece.
Hazel asked for permission from the Deputy Headmistress to go to her parents' tomb in Godric's Hollow on the day when the champions would be chosen. She was wise not to have been here, as she was chosen to be Hogwarts’ Champion.
Thanks to her alibi, she avoided being hated by the student body. However, her participation ended up bringing scrutiny to the process by which the goblet chose a candidate. The DMLE was called, and an investigation was conducted.
It was discovered that someone had entered her name by using her signature on one of her old parchment works. A confundus charm was cast upon the goblet at the moment when they put Hazel's name in the goblet.
“Wait, stop right here.” I raised my hand to stop her.
The redhead asked, “What is the matter, Miss Cirilla?”
How couldn't she see the problem? “The artifact was sentient?”
Hazel frowned at what I was saying. “No, it…” Then she suddenly realized. “Wait, it is, if it can choose the candidate!”
I shook my head. “If it's sentient, why did no one try to negotiate with it?”
“Good question… but it's too late to think about that, it's all in the past now. Anyway, I won all the tasks the stupid ministry organized. But the third task ended up being a trap…”
Hazel recounted how her blood was used in a ritual to revive Voldemort. She only escaped because of luck and a falling out between the Death Eaters. After that, the events that happened seemed to be like those in the books and the movies. Fudge tried to discredit Hazel for revealing that Voldemort was back; she attempted once again to change school and country, but the meddlesome old man, Dumbledore, didn't allow it.
Hazel and her friend suffered under Umbridge's dumb DADA classes, but after she used the blood quill on a small first-year, Hazel sicced the DMLE on the toad-like woman. Fudge was quick to discard her, though, so she went to Azkaban right away. However, Dumbledore contracted the curse left on the ring by Voldemort, and the Dumbo died with his secrets.
Hazel's sixth year came with the battle in the ministry and the world realizing that Voldemort was well and truly alive. At the same time, he took over the ministry, and Hazel and her group have been on the run ever since.
“This is how we ended up like that and why Hermione drugged you. Some people have found us before and tried to sell us out for money.” Hazel told me.
“I see…” I said as I thought about the difference between Hazel and Harry.
Hazel was raised with love and care; she wasn't abused, but she knew responsibility and was mature for her age. Harry has been a mediocre, gullible boy who grew up wanting validation and was self-sacrificing.
“Children, do you want my help? I am willing to do my utmost to extract you from this country. Living like hunted rats is no life at all.”
Comments
Iori Daemona Angel
Next chapter is next Wednesday. Stay tuned!
Tungst3n
Halfway through i got caught up in the story, so I cant say if there are other grammatical errors. This was interesting, cant wait for the next one. Thanks for the chapter, have a good one.
Iori Daemona Angel
Thanks I will take care of it
Tungst3n
missed the red light and was now charging toward me - it shouldbe green light, unless you mean he missed seeing the red light.
