HP: A Magical Journey

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The peaceful magical village of Hogsmeade was one of the most sought real estate in the country because of its unique “all-wizard” village status. There were many settlements in the country with only magical population residing in them, but most of them had a non-magical nearby and thus had to exercise caution in how they conducted their lives because of the laws imposed by the Ministry. Then there were magical villages with no non-magical in the vicinity— but none ever reached the level of activity or even size as Hogsmeade.

What Hogsmeade had working for it was the fact that it was located nearby Hogwarts. The records were unclear which came first— the school or the village, but there was no doubt that both were built around the same time. As the popularity of Hogwarts grew with parents sending their children to the castle for studies, Hogsmeade’s status also grew. To protect the young future of the magical society, vast lands around Hogwarts were charmed to keep non-magical away, thus granting Hogsmeade the same environment. In the current day market, a small apartment in Hogsmeade could be exchanged for an excellent bungalow mansion in some of the posh areas around the nation. But was there something special happening in the village? No. Hogsmeade was like any other typical town with homes, shops, and people living their everyday lives. Even the businesses in Hogsmeade weren’t high-grade, catering to the super-elite as one would expect from a place with such high property prices. How could they? They were standing beside Hogwarts, which housed students who couldn’t afford that sort of money. It was a literal university town.

The only reason why Hogsmeade was so highly coveted was because of prestige. Having a property overlooking Hogsmeade was a luxury only a few had the honor to. All of Hogsmeade had been bought up when it was cheap, hundreds of years ago, and there were only occasional sales which led to ownership rights passing over.

However, in recent times, Hogsmeade had seen some bad times. It was in 1612; during that time, the goblin rebellion had broken nearby, and the village had served as headquarters for the human side. Then Hogsmeade had seen a stretch of peace and safety— until the First Wizarding War, where not even Hogsmeade could escape Voldemort’s reign of terror and had often seen Death Eaters and Auror skirmishes. Things settled down when the Dark Lord was vanquished, and it was more than a decade after that Hogsmeade had again come under attack, this time by the hands of Novellus Accionites, who had killed residents, only to be rescued by the infamous Invisible Vigilante.

That was five years ago.

Today, Hogsmeade was at peace. As the morning greeted the village with its first ray of sunshine, the people of Hogsmeade rose up and started their days. Charmed shovels could be seen shoveling snow off the building fronts and onto the sides. Bakeries and eateries began preparing for the day before they opened up the shop. Soon, people from outside the village arrived in the village for work as the residents also left for their jobs.

“It’s awfully crowded today,” said Russ, a resident. He looked around the crowded pub and could see more unfamiliar faces than familiar ones.

“I met Balter on the way; he said he and the missus couldn’t get a seat at Larry’s— everything’s occupied,” replied Julian. “Is there some sorta festival today or somethin’?”

“I don’t think so.” Russ walked to an outsider in the pub who was laughing with his buddies at a table and asked, “Hey, mate. Is there a festival today? I live here, and oh boy, I’m seeing an awful lot of new faces today.”

The man turned to Russ and spoke with a jovial smile. “Something like that, mate. Today’s a day to be happy about. Everyone here is celebrating!”

“I can see that,” Julian half-chuckled as he gazed at the sole bartender moving his hand and wand quickly to serve. “Never thought this place would be as busy as Three Broomsticks. . . oh lord, I can’t even imagine how Three Broomsticks looks like now.”

“I know!” the man laughed. He patted Russ on his shoulder and spoke, “You ain’t getting anywhere today, mate. How about you take a bottle two home and tuck yourself in after a good buzz. That’s all you’re going to get today.”

Russ frowned and shrugged the man’s hand off his shoulder. He looked down at the man who was still smiling, but now that seemed a tinge sinister.

“Knock it off,” one of the man’s friends at the table intervened. He gave the man before turning to Russ. “Sorry about that. He didn’t mean; he gets like this when he gets drunk. How about we buy you a round. Anything you like at the bar, please take it as an apology from us.”

“Forget it,” Russ scoffed. He glared at the man who raised his beer mug to him with a smile. Russ leaned his weight forward and clenched his fist but saw the people around the table shift. He clicked his tongue, turned away, and walked out with furious steps.

“We apologies again,” came a voice from behind, but Russ ignored it.

“People have no manners these days,” Julius spoke outside the pub.

“Urgh! I want to sock that bastard’s teeth in,” Russ spat and kicked the snow on the ground.

“Don’t be like that. Let’s go to me home; I’ve some great Ember Scotch we can have. That’ll get the heat out yer head.”

The promise of scotch made Russ agree nicely with a dash of grumbling that Julian listened to while nodding with a smile. Russ took a look back at the pub and couldn’t but question himself why he was feeling a heaviness at the bottom of his heart.

. . .

Inside the bar, the ‘friend’ gave a cold glare to the man who had picked up a fight. “What was that? Didn’t I clearly give you instructions not to stand out, which means not doing this shit,” he said acidly.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You should be. If you screw it up, I’ll have your head before mine gets lopped off.” The scolded man clenched his fists below the table and nodded. “Cut off your drinks; I need all of you sharp and ready. I don’t want to hear that you bought an alcohol-expunge potion with you.”

Others at the table gave side looks to the man. Not only had he ruined the mood of the table, but he had also ruined their ‘celebratory’ drinking.

As the clock wound down, the residents left for their homes, but unlike usual, where there will be only a few a person or two, the bar was still full of people chatting, drinking, and eating. The bartender looked at everyone from behind his counter and glanced at his sole employee, who was also surprised at the number of people still remaining.

The bartender announced, “Last call, gentlemen, it’s already after midnight. Get your last drinks, and then it’s time to leave. We’re closing down for the night.”

“Don’t be like that, mate; the night has just started,” shouted someone.

“No,” the bartender spoke sternly, “it’s the last call; after that, everyone’s getting the fuck out. . . .” He trailed off as he noticed how the bar had gone silent, and not a single voice outside his own could be heard. Suddenly, he noticed the dozen-upon-dozen pairs of eyes were on him— all the people in his pub were all looking at him without exception. “W-What is this?” He took out his wand and pointed it at everyone. “Get out at once, or it won’t be pretty. . .” He was looking at one side of the bar, so he didn’t notice when two red zaps of spell light hit him and his employee.

The ‘friend’ from the table got up and cracked his neck as he walked to a spot from where he could see everyone in the bar and everyone could see him. He took out his wand and tapped it on his face for his muscles to wriggle and twitch furiously. The hair color changed from black to blonde, and the body shape turned leaner and gained a couple inches.

Instead of the average bloke, Augustus Rookwood was standing in front of the people. “”I’m happy to see that I can count everyone that was supposed to be here is here,” he said. “But now that everyone has had their share of drinks and had fun for the day, it is time for everyone to get to work and start what we came here for.” He pointed his wand at the unconscious two and chanted— “Imperio”— then he shifted the wand a little and repeated the same. “What are all of you waiting for? Let’s start.”

The chairs in the bar scraped against the wooden floor as people stood up. They immediately began moving as a trained unit— two men dragged the two unconscious men into the back; some went upstairs while most men exited the pub from the front and back. Outside, the Death Eaters began pouring out from different buildings and moved across the village, and soon they positioned themselves all across the village in what seemed a strategic position. They were on rooftops, on street corners, in front of different buildings, and even inside some buildings. It was late at night, and not many residents were roaming outside; those out on the streets were immediately shot down with stunners and harsh ones to those who tried to resist. All of it happened with zero commotion.

Augustus Rookwood looked up at Hogwarts castle with his hands behind his back. The castle was dark throughout; the lights turned off everywhere to discourage students from roaming around after curfew. He observed the castle for ten minutes, but not a single light was turned on inside.

“Sir, everyone is in position.”

Rookwood nodded to the man, who was now dressed in Death Eater attire. Rookwood pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the inky Dark Mark; he tapped it with his wand, and it was as though the tattoo was pulling blood as it turned a blood red. There was a pop, and Rookwood and his subordinate both bowed their head.

Voldemort gazed up at the Hogwarts castle with his red eyes. “Is everything ready?” he asked.

“Yes, my Lord. In and outside the village and around the castle as well. . .”

“Give the order to Westen to cut the Floo.”

Rookwood raised his head and walked away to the nearest building that the Death Eaters had occupied and announced, “Get me the MagiFax.” Immediately a MagiFax was rolled up to him. He took a sheet from his coat, placed it on the scanner, and dialed the WMF-id to send the instructions. “Where’s the Floo in this building,” he asked. He was guided upstairs and found a simple fireplace with a normal fire burning inside it. He pointed his wand at the fire, and it turned a deep green.

Then he waited. Soon, a minute passed, then two, and when the third minute passed, one of the subordinates spoke, “Should we go check on him?”

Rookwood raised his hand and pointed at the fireplace. The green flame began to flicker as though it was struggling against a gust of wind. The green color started to fade until it was a ghost-green, and then in a split second, the fire abruptly turned orange.

Rookwood walked out of the building and back to Voldemort. “The Floo is down, my Lord. We can begin.”

Voldemort raised his wand, and with a long wand movement, white domes became visible over the buildings, but then they turned murky like milk. The wards were disabled by the Dark Lord himself.

Rookwood raised his wand. He breathed out and waved his wand with a spell on his breath; the wand tip glowed amber, and starting from the wall nearest to him, every piece of built structure turned into a metallic red. Every brick, paint coating, tile, marble, and building material changed color.

His eyes went to a pair of men standing in front of a house. One of them pointed his wand at the door, and a spell later, the door was blown up inside. They rushed inside, and within a minute, spell lights glowed out from the cracks in the curtains. And he knew that it was happening all across Hogsmeade.

Rookwood’s attention was taken away when a silver light shot above his head into the air. He turned back and saw magic being shot out of Voldemort’s wand. A chain of silver magic shots followed, and a silver dome began to form in the sky, spilling towards an area so vast that it covered everything around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

Up in the castle, a light came on.

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Voldemort – Dark Lord – I’m tired of waiting.

Augustus Rookwood – Ex-Unspeakable – Going to add taking over a village to my resume.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – Okay. . . things are now definitely moving.

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