Antebellum
It was December 14, 2011. Five months had passed since the Battle of Salem, and though we had all been through so much, life was finally starting to seem normal again. John Proctor remained closed, but I enjoyed the classes that I took with the other Reborn kids. They gave me a chance to see my friends, and also a chance to improve my magic, which had grown even stronger in the past five months.
Our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor was a Danish-English Auror named Mason Randall Asher. Though I didn’t know it at the time, he was a high-ranking member of the Department of Aurors, several ranks above Silas’s dad. Asher was a seasoned warrior of magic, the kind of person they usually dispatched to deal with serious threats, the likes of Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort. To have him teach self-defense classes to children in rural Montana seemed a little odd, but there was a reason for this. The Department of Aurors recognized the importance of the Rebirth Generation, and regarded training us as an utmost priority. Moreover, we needed to know how to defend ourselves, in the unlikely event that something like the Battle of Salem ever happened again.
Asher was a grizzled man with silvery-black hair and a domineering stature. He wore flowing red-and-black robes, and always had his hands behind his back as he instructed us with firm discipline. He wasn’t unkind, but he didn’t like it when kids were lazy or disobedient. Obviously the man was not a teacher, but his experience nonetheless proved a boon to his lessons.
“Your wand hand must remain in position at all times,” he said one cold morning, as we stood in the middle of the pure-white field. At this time of year, Salem was completely covered in snow, and the temperatures were often below freezing, but Asher always said the cold was no excuse to slack. “Do not allow your emotions to guide you. Concentrate, and recite the incantations clearly.”
A boy named Jake, whom I had acquired a particularly strong dislike for in the past few months, moaned as he halfheartedly waved his wand. “Can’t we just do it nonverbally? We’re Reborn.”
Asher gave him his usual, stone-faced gaze. “Incantations do not exist as crutches for weak wizards and witches. Spells guide magic to be refined. Without them, you are merely projecting raw magical power inelegantly. Being Reborn will not save you from this weakness.”
Jake seemed irritated with Asher’s answer, but I accepted it obediently. I didn’t like the tedium of verbal spells either, but I had learned in my battle with Karen Blair that even the inherent power of the Reborn was not always enough to defeat well-trained adult witches and wizards. In the months since the Battle of Salem, I had tried my best to master the complex incantations and wand motions that I had always struggled with. Being a war veteran didn’t make me any better at them than my peers, and at times I was frustrated almost to tears. But Asher seemed to respect my efforts, because he always treated me a little nicer than the other kids, perhaps recognizing that I truly wanted to internalize his lessons.
“Supra Volant!” I said clearly. A reddish-pink light emitted from my wand and arched above me, flying around in circles before suddenly striking the ground, blasting away a ring of snow. Asher observed it quietly, then nodded approvingly at me.
“Well executed, Alan. I’m glad to see you succeeding.”
I breathed and shrugged modestly. “I could have done it sooner. I wasn’t reciting it right.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. When he spoke more softly, I caught hints of his Danish accent, though it was well disguised. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Practice and discipline are imperative, as is patience. Learn at your own pace.”
I smiled and nodded. Jake rolled his eyes. “Gross. You gonna kiss now or something?”
I repressed the urge to glare at him. Asher raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I suggest you focus more on your own performance, Mr. Rockwell.”
Jake gritted his teeth, and turned his attention back to trying to conjure his spell.
A few minutes later, the lesson ended, and I walked over to the road to wait for my family to come pick me up. Jake passed me on the way to his car, shoving me with his shoulder as he did. I frowned at him, but didn’t bother trying to stand up for myself. Normally I wouldn’t have any patience for bullies like him, but after the battle five months ago, there was nothing I wanted less than to engage in violence against others. I had begun halfheartedly contemplating a career as an herbologist, or something else where I’d never be anywhere close to danger. But I didn’t like the idea of handling mandrakes, so maybe I could do something else. Maybe I’d become a secretary for MACUSA or something.
My family’s minivan pulled up through the snow to where I was waiting. I saw my parents in the front seats, so I pulled open the back door to get in. When I did, I was met with the surprising sight of two other kids sitting there. It was Jared Manning and his sister Zoe. Clea wasn’t there, but this wasn’t unusual; she was often getting babysat by a family friend when Mom and Dad ran errands.
“Hi Alan!” said Zoe excitedly.
I got into the right-hand seat and closed the door behind me. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Mom and Dad are at city council right now for the meeting,” said Jared. “We’re getting a ride up there with you guys.”
“The meeting?” I put on my seatbelt. “What meeting?”
Jared shrugged indifferently. “Something about civilian safety, or something?”
“It’s a city council meeting,” Dad explained. “Representatives of the wizarding community in Salem are being given the opportunity to talk with the muggle government about how the better protect both muggles and wizards from violence in the wake of... well, the attack.”
I looked down at my feet. My pensiveness was smoothly interrupted by Zoe, who stuck her face right in front of mine. “I’m excited to be hanging out with you, Alan!”
“Uh, yeah...” I nodded at her. “Me too, Zoe.”
Zoe’s obvious crush on me seemed to have magnified intensely after I became famous as the boy who defeated Darkanoss. During the Battle of Salem, the Mannings had been in Lynnville, so they hadn’t witnessed any of the violence of the battle. That had given the events that transpired a mythic status in Zoe’s mind, and she treated me almost like a celebrity. It still made me a little uncomfortable, since I’d never had any interest in Zoe. It wasn’t that she wasn’t cute, but she just wasn’t my type. Besides, I could tell Jared hated every moment of his sister fawning over me. He’d always been a little overprotective of her, which was pretty ironic considering he never once stood up to Nick and the other Death Eater kids at John Proctor. He’d protect his sister with his life, but anyone else was inconsequential.
We drove up the winding, frost-covered road into Salem. The city rooftops were covered in thick layers of snow, and the traffic was heavy due to the rush hour. The stop-and-go drag drove us past the University Green, which I observed idly with my arm leaned on the car window. You couldn’t know by looking at it that so many people had died there just a few months ago. As with so many things, the absence was more noticeable than the presence. People didn’t jog and hang out there the way they used to. The University Green had become hallowed ground. It wasn’t the worst place in that regard. I hadn’t been back to Summerroot School a single time since the battle. I couldn’t stomach the memories.
We drove past a bank surrounded by construction scaffolding, likely to repair the roof that had been blown up when Peter and I were attacked there. We stopped in front of city hall, an ornate nineteenth-century building that was quite different from the modern office buildings downtown. I had seen it fairly often, since Peter lived pretty close to here, and we sometimes passed it when we were out on walks. We got out of the car. Zoe hovered really close to me, giggling and humming quietly as we headed up to the front door. Jared just scowled at us from nearby, and I tried not to frown back at him.
When we went inside, my parents went ahead of us to prepare for the meeting, leaving us in the entrance hall. For a few minutes, we stood there awkwardly, occasionally sliding out of the way of important-looking people in suits who gave us dirty looks as they passed. With just the three of us there, the silence was exceedingly awkward. Thankfully, I wasn’t subjected to it for too long, because a few minutes later two other kids came through the doors to city hall and greeted us.
“Hey Alan!”
The short girl with glasses who had addressed me was Rosemary Taylor, and the tall boy following behind her was Dirk Baumann. They were both Reborn kids I had met at John Proctor. We’d been off-and-on friends when we still attended, and now we saw each other semi-regularly during our lessons. Dirk and I still had uneasy relations due to his grouchy and cynical personality, but Rosemary kept him in check. Both of them always felt a little bit older than me, since they liked mature things like slasher-horror movies that I had never been into. But even if they made me uneasy sometimes, I still generally got along with them.
“You’re here to watch too, huh?” said Dirk, his hands in their usual position in his jean pockets.
“Our parents are speakers,” said Jared, with just the slightest hint of ego.
“Ah, cool,” Dirk nodded, immediately looking away from him. I didn’t like Jared very much, but he and Dirk pretty much hated each other. “So when does it start?”
“A few minutes, I think,” said Rosemary, looking at a watch on her right wrist.
“Oh, hey guys!”
This time, the voice had come from a different direction, deeper inside the building. When I turned toward it, I smiled for the first time since we’d arrived. It was Liam Manfred. When I was a little kid, the sight of that chubby face approaching me might’ve set off alarms of annoyance and cringe inside of me. But after what we’d been through together, I couldn’t have been happier to see him.
Liam gave me a hearty pat on the shoulder and looked at the other kids. They hadn’t known each other before, but we’d all become acquainted in our lessons, so there was no need for introductions. That said, the only other common thread between Liam and this group was me.
“You heading in? It’s about to start.”
“We were waiting for our parents...” Jared started to protest.
Liam waved this comment aside. “Oh, they told me to come get you. They’re already seated. Come sit with my family, there’s plenty of room.”
Jared frowned and seemed like he wanted to protest, but the rest of the group was eager to head inside, so we all followed Liam over to a little door at the side of the foyer. It led to a hallway adorned with offices and board rooms, separated from us by glass walls. I instinctively felt as though we weren’t supposed to be here, and the looks we got from the people who worked here validated that feeling. But Liam just led us right past them, then down a hall to the left and through another door.
This one led into a much larger room, a bit like a courtroom. The sides of the room were lined with several rows of seating, and the far side had a platform of important-looking people sitting in a row. Behind them was a set of large, vertical windows overlooking the city. The man in the middle of the panel was one I recognized from televised speeches I’d seen frequently in the past few months: it was Thomas Griffin, the muggle mayor of Salem. He was a middle-aged, dull-looking man, more like a suburban dad than an important government official. There was a long table in the middle of the room where another group of people was seated. Most were wizards, including my parents and Jared’s, as well as Mason Randall Asher. I had no idea how he’d beaten us here, but I surmised he must have apparated. There was also a podium right in front of the table facing Griffin, though no one was standing at it.
When my parents spotted me, they smiles and waved, and I halfheartedly waved back. Liam led us to an open spot at the middle row of one of the seating areas. He sat next to his mom, a woman who was his spitting image, and I sat beside him. Zoe eagerly sat next to me, followed by Jared, Rosemary, and Dirk. The room was mostly quiet, apart from hushed conversations that the adults exchanged. It seemed as though the proceedings had yet to begin.
“So what’s this all about, anyway?” I asked Liam.
Liam quietly said something to his mom, then looked at us. “So, uh... basically, the city council is giving representatives from the wizarding community a chance to talk about how to make life safer for both wizards and muggles.”
This was pretty much exactly what my dad had told me. “But what exactly does that mean? What are they going to talk about? There’s no more Death Eaters.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s no more danger,” Jared pointed out, almost condescendingly.
A part of me was extremely irritated that he would say something like that, having not witnessed the things that I witnessed. But then again, maybe my experiences in the battle were all the more reason to listen to his words. I had witnessed firsthand that peace was a fickle thing. There was no way of knowing how long it would be until something like the Battle of Salem repeated itself. I understood why the wizards and muggles both wanted to be prepared for that.
A few minutes later, an authoritative-looking person shushed the crowd, and a woman sitting next to Griffin read from a script. “The hearing will begin with an opening statement by keynote speaker Angel Carson.”
A young woman stood up from the long table in the middle of the room. I recognized her right away; she was the older sister-like person whose house my family and I had visited right before the Battle of Salem. She was a muggle, and had always been an outspoken advocate for coexistence.
“My name is Angel Carson, and I have been selected to deliver the opening statement on behalf of the magical community of Salem, in the absence of Congresswoman Sweet.”
“Why did Congresswoman Sweet not come speak herself?” Mayor Griffin crassly interrupted.
“She died,” Carson replied. “During the battle, while defending Lynnville.”
“I see,” Griffin replied, without a hint of sympathy. “Proceed, Ms. Carson.”
“The position of the magical community of Salem is sympathetic to all of the muggle families who suffered losses during the Battle of Salem. However, we believe that city council’s reconstruction measures have disproportionately favored muggles over magical citizens. Moreover, we believe that Mayor Griffin’s platform has been unfavorable to wizards and witches, and has broadly treated the magical community as a whole as being responsible for the actions of a radical minority.”
“Thank you, Ms. Carson,” said a councilwoman.
Angel Carson sat down. The next person to come to the podium was Silas’s dad. The sight of him made me immediately scan the audience, until I spotted Silas sitting across from me and a few rows down. When our eyes met, he smiled and flashed a peace sign my way. I grinned. After what we’d been through together in the war, Silas and I were now best friends. Next to Peter, he was the Reborn I was closest to. I certainly would have preferred his company to that of Jared, Dirk, and the others.
“My name is Isaac Darrow,” said Silas’s dad. “I am a member of the U.S. Department of Aurors, a division of international magical law enforcement. I’ve been selected to receive any questions that the panel may have regarding the safety of muggle citizens from magical threats.”
“Auror Darrow,” said Mayor Griffin loudly. “Your cabinet claims that you magical people were not responsible for what happened five months ago. Yet clearly, the perpetrators were...”
“The perpetrators were wizards and witches. But as Ms. Carson stated, they were a radical minority. They do not represent the beliefs or actions of the wizarding community as a whole. To claim otherwise is to speak out of ignorance and broad prejudice against the wizarding world, the vast majority of which wishes to live harmoniously with muggles.”
Griffin grimaced at Silas’s dad. “I won’t have you accusing me of being prejudiced in my office, sir.”
An uncomfortable murmuring spread through the room. “If I may,” said another voice from the table, that of a middle-aged witch. “This conversation is not productive to the matter at hand. I move to dismiss it.”
“Sustained,” said a city council member. “Please proceed, Mr. Darrow.”
The discomfort in the room gradually died down. I exhaled. I could tell that Mayor Griffin was a pretty unlikable guy. It probably took a lot of patience to deal with him.
Silas’s dad continued. “The key to safety for both muggles and wizards is not to further the divisions between our two societies, but rather to become closer allies. The resistance in Lynnville five months ago saved hundreds of lives, but would have saved hundreds more if muggle authorities had heeded the warnings of the magical community. The government of Salem needs a better rapport with the wizarding community, so that such threats will be recognized in the future.”
I was impressed by his verbose and professional-sounding words. He had clearly prepared them well in advance, but there was also a wittiness to him that kept him two steps ahead of the situation and quick to adapt. I could tell that he was a lot smarter and more level-headed than Griffin. I felt the same way about Angel Carson. These were good, rational people. I was happy that they were on our side.
“I still think registering all wizards and witches is a much safer plan,” said the mayor.
Silas’s dad frowned at him. “Treating every wizard and witch like a potential threat won’t make Salem safer. It will only serve to oppress wizards and witches, and give more of them reasons to radicalize.”
“That’s pretty shaky reasoning,” Griffin pointed out mockingly.
It was at this point that Mason Randall Asher stood up from the table. “I am a veteran of the First and Second Wizarding Wars. I fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. I know what constitutes a real threat to the safety of wizards and muggles, and what does not. If you regard every wizard or witch as dangerous, you will never know which ones are truly threatening. You will be so caught up in your own fear that you will be helpless against the very thing you seek to stop. Fear is mankind’s greatest weakness.”
Asher’s voice carried powerful authority over the room, and there was a long moment of silence. Griffin looked pretty agitated, but didn’t argue with Asher.
“Very well,” he finally conceded. “What do you propose?”
The session carried on after that for more than an hour. While the beginning had some tension to at least keep it interesting, the rest was mostly logistical discussion between city council and the wizards about how to best safeguard against future violence. Mom and Dad both got to speak briefly, as did Jared’s parents. Asher also gave a short speech. Every once in a while Mayor Griffin made another insensitive remark, but he was usually talked down by the wizard cabinet or by his own councilmembers. It was a wonder to me that the man had ever ended up mayor, since it seemed like everyone around him regarded him as a bit of an oaf. It made me feel a little sick.
In fact, I’d been feeling sick almost ever since I’d entered the room. At first it was a bit of nausea, but I dismissed it as just nervousness, or perhaps some newly-awakened fear of crowds. But as the hearing went on, the sickness clustered in my forehead, not my stomach. Every once in a while I got kind of dizzy, and wondered if I’d need to hurry off to the bathroom. I hunched over and clutched my head, hoping that my hands would somehow stop the stinging feeling in my skull.
Liam looked at me in concern. “Alan?” he whispered. “Hey, you okay?”
And then it happened.
I saw a snowy forest. I saw columns of flame erupting by the hundreds, scattering across the woods. The flames revealed people wearing black cloaks, who shuffled through the snow, leaving trails of ash in their wake. I saw clouds gathering over a cityscape. I saw Dementors spiraling together. I saw a tornado.
I screamed.
The sudden hallucination had completely taken me out of city hall. When I returned, I found myself lying in a heap on the cold floor. The people near me had stepped back, with the exception of Liam and Silas, who were hovering above me. I felt someone pull me up, and heard my mom’s voice. “Alan!” she said, gradually louder as the scene cleared up. “Alan, are you okay?”
“What is going on?” Mayor Griffin asked angrily. “Who is that boy?”
“Alan Doe, sir,” said one of the other councilmembers, though I wasn’t sure how they knew me. At this point, it wasn’t uncommon for strangers to recognize me.
“Alan?” Mom looked at my face, her eyes trembling with concern. “Baby, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I tried to speak, but then it happened a second time.
This time, I could see much more clearly. I was walking through that snowy forest. I wasn’t in my regular body; I was a different animal, with four legs. When I looked up, I saw a swarm of cloaked people moving closer to me, emerging from the woods like a horde of zombies. I bounded off, rushing through the underbrush to escape from them. The horde moved together silently, a mass of wraith-like bodies, approaching the city of Salem.
“The Death Eaters!” I suddenly cried. “The Death Eaters, they’re... they’re back!”
My outburst caused quite a stir in the room. “Oh, please!” Griffin yelled loudly. “This is ridiculous! Why should we listen to him? He’s just a child!”
“Probably still wants to hog the spotlight after he killed Darkanoss,” someone else said.
Another voice agreed. “What a selfish kid. His parents should be ashamed.”
“Alan, what do you mean?” asked Silas, leaning closer to me. “What are you saying?”
It was at that moment that a man stood up from the back row of the audience seats. He was dressed the same as everyone else, wearing a formal black suit with his hair slicked back. But when he rose up above the sea of heads, a malevolent grin appeared on his face. He pulled a wand out of a suitcase lying to his left, and raised it high into the air.
“Long live Darkanoss,” he said, and then pointed the wand at Mayor Griffin. “Avada Kedavra!”