Hopeless
17 January 2942
Hogwarts England.
The muggles have done it. After 36 years of none stop suffering the woman who many millennia ago went by the name Harriet potter, the prophesied saviour of the wizarding world felt the last of life on earth drain away.
With the stature of secrecy shattered muggles all around the globe descended into a mass panic, locking themselves in their homes, scared and untrusting of everyone and everything around them. It did not matter that they had been co-existing with the magical world for centuries. Ignorance really was bliss it seemed. After a couple of years, fear began to evolve into something terrifying!
It didn’t take long for the muggles to discover the dependency on wands wizards and witches had. Once they were taken away most were defenceless.
At first there where magic registrations, then come the law which banned the use of wands. Some thought if they went along with it they would survive. That was not the case.
The muggle-Borns suffered first, with their family's quickly turning on them killing them in fear or jealousy. Some were handed onto the government and used as experiments. Tortured then dumped it was a cycle repeated for years despite the countless attempts to save them.
She'd seen thousands of battles, fought and died too many times to remember, only to get back up and repeat the cycle again. But this was truly one of the most revolting things shed ever seen over her long existence, she never thought humanity would be capable of this.
The muggle or the mundane as they had been preferred to be called, soon stared to attack. It was the worst in the Uk after all the restrictions on mother magic she was struggling and unable to hold up against the onslaught of bombs, nuclear weapons and heavy firearms. The magical people had been losing their power for decades. They didn’t care if they killed their own if the magical were purged from the world it would be a victory despite the thousands of children killed in crossfire, there where no innocents after the first 10 years of global warfare. Due to their lack of understanding for the world they lived in after discovering magic ,and deeming it unnatural and evil not realising mother magic is needed for live to begin on earth. All mundane united together against a common enemy. For once it didn’t matter your skin colour, religion or sexuality, anything with a hint of magic in their veins was dissected in a scientific lab or killed on site.
It didn’t matter if you couldn't actively use magic like squibs or vampires your whole family was hunted down and murdered.
Surveying the shadows of the once proud castle that once stood there unyielding, she felt her heart break for mother magic as she felt her desperately cling to the decaying world, trying to patch up the rips in the universe.
Among the rubble there were two figures.
The air smelt rancid, the mix of burning bodies and the chemical smell left over from the nuclear weapons make her gag.
Her attention was taken off the landscape as her companion the man beside her, swayed. “Too m-many souls” rasped the black cloaked figure, fighting against the pain.
The figures, one clad in basilisk hide battle robes that where singed around the edges from the long years of battle. Her raven hair tightly braided back in two plats. The other figure, clad only in a simple black cloak that looked otherworldly whipping around him in the invisible tune of the souls only he could feel, was bent over gasping for breath as he felt the creatures of the world pass though him desperately fighting to moved on from this hellskape.
“What do we do, we cannot leave mother in this weakened state” she women spoke face blank, but despite the emotionless mask she wore her eyes where alight with a burning fury.
She knew if they were to stay mother would perish soon there was nothing of substance to sustain or strengthen her. She would sece to exist in at most weeks, at worst hours and her companion knew it too.
“We will have to go back” she said again not giving her friend a chance to speak her mind going over possibilities to stop this madness.
“When do you have in mind” he gritted out the pain was all consuming, it took everything in him to stay standing.
The raven-haired women just shrugged “i don’t know” she said “couldn't you think of a point in history where we could reverse this mess" she asked him to gesturing to the crumpled building and surrounding dead bodies.
“I could only guess” he spoke again his voice having lost the smoothness it usually contained. His mind coming up with suggestions when a tiny thought came to him, oh how he would enjoy seeing his best friend handling riddle and Dumbledore. A small smirk flashed against his pained face. “I have an idea” he spoke mischief swimming in his eyes.
“Give it your best shot” she spoke hesitation creeping into her tone as she noted the mischievous light in his eyes.
“Meet you at the veil”
July 2nd, 1941
Ministry of magic, London England.
Harriet potter stepped gracefully out of he veil of death in the department of mystery, her companion, best friend etc following. Waving her hand the date and time appeared above her in a silent and wandless tempus. She looked at the date her face taking on a pained expression as she spun to face death with alarm on her features.
Death on the other hand looked upon her in amusement lips pursed in an effort to keep from laughing.
With a small pout on her lips she sighed and with a muttered “come on” they both apparated away not even discussing where they should stop first, it was the same each time unless there was not a Gringots in the time period they visited which was annoyingly frequent.
Gliding into the giant building her eyes passing over the riddle with a nostalgic hum, nodding to the goblins guarding the bank without looking back to she knew there was a look of respectful horror aimed at her and her friend. Thankfully the bank wasn’t busy and they walked straight up towards the nearest teller.
“Afternoon teller goblin, may you gold forever grow” spoke the women in a gobligook with a polite tone nodding her head in respect.
The goblin looked up in surprise it was not often humans knew goblin customs, and even more unusual they knew the language, as he looked up however and any words he was going to say got stuck in his throat as he gazed at them.
“Afternoon goblin friend, make your enemies run screaming when they hear you name. What can Gringots do for you” the goblin finally chocked out nodding his head in respect.
With a purr the woman responded “oh they do. I need a meeting with the prevell account manager.”
“follow me” said the goblin Ranok according to the nameplate on his desk.
Following Ranok round twisting hallways Harriet looked at the artwork of battles that adorned the hallways. Stopping suddenly she leaned closer and to her surprise there she was among the carnage wand in one hand sword in the other fighting among the goblins. Looking at the images seemed to bring back memories, she remembered the smell of fresh blood coating her hands, the war cries from both sides that drowned out the moans of pain.
Shaking her selph out of memories was a skill she’d gotten quite good at so with a slight skip in her step she continued following the goblin, death walking silently beside her.
Coming to a pause at a grand gold covered door Ranok noks twice on the door and then the followed “enter” came he walked straight in pushing the door open for the guests.
Gliding into the room decorated with amor and axes. Harriet gave a graceful bow of her head to each goblin she spoke “may you blade cut swiftly though the heads of your enemy’s. For security and political reasons I would like a blood test to show my ability to claim house Pevell”
“May you gold flow my lady, your request is reasonable place 3 drops of blood on the parchment, all items except for the dagger used, that connects with your blood will be burnt for you to see” said the Pevell account manager taking a single pease of parchment out of the potion it’s soaking in.
Taking a sharp blade from the holster at her hip she created a small cut at the top of her finger letting the drops fall onto the parchment.
After about ten seconds of silence that she spent cleaning her crystal dagger she picked up the parchment reading though the long list of houses available for her to claim, spotting the ancient and nobel house of prevell sitting there unclamed she slid the parchment across the desk towards the goblin who looked shocked at the countless number of houses she had inherited over her life due to life debts or conquests or even the heads handing liver there houses in thanks and if there where no heirs left to claim the lady/lordship.
After reading the parchment the goblin placed the list of the dark wood desk that had detailed engravings of torture and death, and it abruptly set alight just like the goblin said it would. Picking up a box from a draw he placed it infrount of the new Lady Pevell. “You ladyship ring” the goblin grunted at her.
Sliding on the silver ring with an ivy design on the band and black diamond incrusted leaves imbedded with the deathly hallows symbol.
Feeling the bond wrap a round her felt like that comfort of her cloak and she smirked feeling her lips tip up in wicked delight