LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 9: 9: September 1st
Minister Unfairly Blamed For World Cup Riot!! And an Azkaban Escape: Gone Wrong! Gone Violent! Gone Sex-… Wait, No…
As Reported by Rita Skeeter
Hello, noble Wizards and Witches of Wizarding Britain! This is Rita Skeeter, once again bringing you your daily scoop of ongoing events! This edition of the Daily Prophet's front page will be on the Quidditch World Cup and its continued fallout! Of course, it will be! It's all anyone can talk about!
It has now officially been two weeks since the unfortunately terrible events of the Wizarding World's premier sporting event. And we are still seeing new developments due to what is now being called the Cup Riot of '94.
For those poor souls who have been living next to Flobberworms, this generous Reporter shall briefly recap! The 1994 Quidditch World Cup was recently held in Dartmoor, England. It ended with an Irish victory and celebrations extended well into the night.
At some point during the night, masked and robed figures appeared around the World Cup's campgrounds. Panic quickly spread and the festivities devolved into a riot. Now, it is important to note that the Daily Prophet proudly mirrors the Ministry of Magic's official stance on the event!
There is no evidence that the masked figures were Death Eaters, especially since everyone knows the true Death Eaters are all safely secured in Azkaban! Currently, the Ministry is investigating under the assumption that the riot was simply a harmless prank that grew out of control, eventually claiming the lives of several notable and respected Pure-Bloods. This Reporter mourns the loss of Lord Lucius Malfoy, Lord Marcus Parkinson, Lord Corbon Yaxley, and Lord Steven Flint…
At the end of the riot, the Dark Mark was cast into the sky, yet more evidence that this was simply a prank because no one would dare invoke the mark of a dead Dark Lord! Shockingly, the Mark was cast with the wand of our own Minister Fudge himself! Again, it should be noted that the Prophet subscribes to the Ministry's narrative of events and encourages its readers to do the same.
A well-respected member of Pure-Blood society and recent widow, Narcissa Malfoy, had this to say: "The Riot was an utterly tragic affair. I lost my husband to the chaos. I shall be taking a short break from Pure-Blood society to mourn because of this terrible event. I very much doubt I shall return as the same woman I left.
"It truly is a great shame that some people felt the need to pull such a cruel and crude prank. As someone whose family was greatly affected by the rise and fall of the Dark Lord, I am perhaps one of the most sensitive to these boorish machinations. Now, another member of my family has fallen thanks to dreadful circumstances.
"I believe my late husband would have said Cornelius Fudge is simply another unfortunate victim of these witless pranksters. He had the misfortune of having his wand stolen by the uncivilized rabble responsible for the riot and is now bearing the blame for the event with dignity. I am sure Lucius would have asked that the public keep an open mind in regard to his situation. At heart, all the Minister is guilty of is a moment of carelessness, something I'm sure we can all relate to."
Well-spoken words from a well-spoken woman! This Reporter cannot help but agree with the Malfoy Matriarch! Surely, the blame for this event cannot rest solely on the shoulders of our great Minister. Instead, it should be directed at the ill-bred ruffians truly responsible for the deaths and damages!
Already, the Minister has received censure from his Light-sided peers on the Wizengamot. The dissent runs deep and the last summer session of that venerated body ended with a filibuster and intensely productive discussion on Minister Fudge's vote of no-confidence!
This Reporter is sure our noble lawmakers will see reason and grant the Minister leniency for his unlucky moment of carelessness! The fate of Wizarding Britain, nay, the whole Wizarding World, hangs in the balance! Thankfully, we are in good hands.
In other news, there were a pair of deaths and an escape attempt from Azkaban just last night. The Lestrange Brothers — Ruldophus and Rabastan — were found dead in their cells, seemingly sucked dry by dementors. Serves them right, this Reporter thinks! They were enemies of Witches everywhere for what they did to their poor wife…
Tragically notorious Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) somehow broke out of her cell at the same time and made it past both Azkaban's Dementors and its Human guards without notice.
But do not panic, dear readers! She did not make it much farther. According to the guards this Reporter interviewed, it seems that Bellatrix Lestrange ran headfirst into the anti-apparition wards around Azkaban and disappeared upon impact!
Though no remains were recovered, she is now presumed dead by the relevant authorities. Azkaban's security has been increased as a result of the attempted breakout and whatever loophole Bellatrix Lestrange managed to exploit has surely been sealed!
Unfortunately, this means the death of another of Britain's valuable Pure-Bloods. One that belonged to one of Britain's oldest and most prestigious families at that. This Reporter mourns the loss of a powerful but misguided Witch and asks readers to remember the rumors that surrounded her uncharacteristic switch to the side of You-Know-Who after her forced marriage.
Those old-style marriage contracts can be quite brutal in their attempts to control a Witch in mind, body, and magic. In this Reporter's mind, Bellatrix Black will be forever remembered as a cautionary tragedy about the dangers Pure-Bloods face from within…
IIIII
The Lord Malfoy was dead and Fudge seemed to be on his way out if one read through the obvious Ministry bias of the Prophet. Only the Prophet would find a way to make the deaths of Death Eaters sound tragic. I didn't even bother hiding my snort of incredulous amusement as I put down the newspaper. I wonder if I was the one who killed the prick.
Of course, other than that news, the Prophet was as useless as ever. They assumed an escaped prisoner was dead just because she'd disappeared without a trace… As if she was just itching to stick around. Though… that bit at the end about marriage contracts and rumors about the 'deceased' was interesting…
Normally, I wouldn't even touch the thing if they didn't have such a stranglehold monopoly on Britain's news cycle. Their only competitor worth mentioning was the Quibbler and that was more of a biweekly-magazine affair run by a single family as opposed to the corporate, daily newspaper of the Prophet. It was also a bit… eccentric even by Wizarding standards.
I'd actually found the Quibbler quite pleasant to read though. Its ideas were unique and unusual but could be remarkably grounded in reality if you knew how to read it without immediately dismissing them as junk. Xenophilius Lovegood, the Quibbler's main author, came across as a bit of a mad scientist crossed with a reporter but it honestly wouldn't surprise me if he presented concrete evidence that his elusive creatures existed.
Hell, my System proved that magic worked in mysterious ways that no one could fully understand. After gaining it, I started to look at Lovegood's beliefs more as hypotheses or theories than the ramblings of a madman. If something akin to a magical RPG System could exist, why couldn't undiscovered exotic magical creatures exist as well?
"Atlas~?" Septima whined cutely from behind me. "Come back to bedddddd~"
I shook my head fondly. Septima had grown much more openly affectionate when we were alone together since we'd first been intimate a couple of weeks ago. I took it as a good sign that she now felt more comfortable with me.
"I can't, Love," I said, turning and walking over to my bed to plant a light kiss on her pouting forehead. "You know today is September 1st and we've already spent most of the day in bed together. It's already dark out. The Hogwarts Express should be arriving any minute now and the students with it. If anything, you should be getting up."
Septima's lips split from a pout into a grin, "As you command, My Coven Lord~"
I rolled my eyes and motioned for Septima to get up so we could begin making our way to the Great Hall for the opening feast. It wouldn't do to make a bad first impression on the students as their newest Assistant Professor.
But yeah… that was also a thing now. Septima and I had created a coven together. At least, as far as the watchful eyes of the System and magic were concerned. She'd apparently been serious enough about her roleplay to trigger magic's judgment and I'd been too lost in the fantasy to reject the process.
Of course, it wasn't an officially sanctioned coven yet. As in not sanctioned by the British Ministry. Though, did they really count? For us to be recognized by the Ministry of Magic, we'd have to do a specific ritual that marked the creation of a new Pure-Blood house. And considering Ritual Magic was almost entirely illegal in Britain, that wasn't happening any time soon.
According to Septima, all that was required to start a coven was a declaration of intent (roleplay seemed to be enough in our case), a certain amount of magical power, and an expression of shared carnal intimacy. Everything else was ritual bureaucracy that Humans thrived on but magic itself found unnecessary.
So to everyone and everything that mattered, Septima and I were now part of a two-person coven. Honestly, I couldn't imagine we were the first coven created off the back of sexual roleplay…
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If anything, it had brought me and Septima closer over the past two weeks. And Septima was living her dream. When she'd told me she was a traditional Witch when it came to relationships, this is exactly what she'd meant. After broaching the subject during the afterglow of our first time, she'd shared that being in a coven was, quite literally, her ideal relationship status.
It also seemed that my System extended some bonuses to the rest of my coven. Or perhaps the bonuses were there anyway and the System just made them readily apparent by quantifying them. Something to research but ultimately unimportant.
What was important were the benefits of creating our coven. For one, Septima and I shared a level of intimacy and connection unmatched by anything short of a Veela or Soulmate Bond. Secondly, the bond gave XP bonuses to Stat development and learning for Disciplines shared amongst the coven. Thirdly and most importantly, according to my System, the coven bond protected its members from outside influence (potions, Legilimency, and even curses like the Imperius).
We'd already seen the effects of the coven bond in an increase to both my Mind and Soul Stats. I assumed something similar was happening to Septima, but all I could see was her normal Tier status when I Observed her. Though, there was now a special little note there that claimed her as mine.
< +2 to Mind, +2 to Soul >
< Mind: 31+2=33/100+ >
< Soul: 26+2=28/100+ >
< Septima Vector >
< Title: Hogwarts Arithmancy Professor, First Member of Atlas White's Coven >
< Combat Skill (T2) >
< Magic Skill (T5) >
< Social Skill (T2) >
< Creation Skill (T3) >
By the time I finished mentally recapping the past two weeks and change, Septima was dressed and her usual stern mask had fallen over her face. I took her hand into the crook of my arm and escorted us from my quarters (which had quickly become Septima's as well) to the Great Hall. The first of the students were arriving when we got there and we all settled in to wait for the First Years.
Sitting at the staff table of the Great Hall was surreal. I'd never truly expected myself to be up here, next to Professors I respected and looked up to like Flitwick and Dumbledore himself. Septima and I sat off to one end of the long staff table next to Professor Flitwick, watching as students filed in and sat at their House tables.
Soon enough, the Great Hall was filled with the chatter and excitement of students catching up after a long summer's break. I kept mostly silent, content to just observe and absorb the surreal feeling of being where I was. I caught a few glances directed my way and whispers I assumed to be about me. I'm sure some of the new Seventh Years recognized me but to most, I was a mystery, young enough to be their peer and yet sitting up at the staff table with the rest of the Professors.
I caught the eyes of Heather and Hermione as they came in, nodding politely to them as well as the younger half of the Weasley brood. Ron was the only one to react poorly to my greeting. His glare was monumental and the way he tried to naturally gravitate toward Heather and Hermione only to get pushed to another seat by Ginny… Well, it almost made me feel bad for the prick.
A glimpse of something drew my eye to my old House table. Maybe it was the flash of nothing and something that disappeared before my brain could truly process it. Maybe it was the chittering of an 'imaginary' creature. Maybe it was a call from beyond the veil, insisting that Divination wasn't bullshit and I should look here just this once.
Whatever it was, my gaze flitted over to the Ravenclaw table and landed on a single girl. She was an utterly odd yet completely entrancing sight. She had this petite, fairy-esque beauty to her, with wispy blonde hair the color of gold and eyes so pale blue that they almost looked white. The strangest-looking glasses sat atop her head, a neckless of corks sat around her neck, and her wand was tucked behind one of her ears.
She stared off into thin air in a daze as if hypnotized by something only she could see. Something about her, something I couldn't quite place, caught my attention and held it. I was intrigued by her, enthralled really. And I noticed something else about the girl. She was completely and utterly alone.
Ravenclaw wasn't the most welcome or social of the Houses — something I could personally attest to — but surely a girl as cute as her should have had at least some friends, right? Instead, she was downright ostracized. It was as if she emitted a field that repelled people, relegating her to the end of the Ravenclaw table with several empty seats between her and the nearest other student.
She looked to have it even worse than I did in the House of the Ravens. As I watched her, she raised a hand, extending a finger to poke at something that didn't appear to be there. She was ignorant or simply uncaring of the group of girls obviously laughing at her a little way down the table.
Then, uncannily, I could swear something twinged in my soul as the girl poked the air. It was like a small hiccup, a small glitch, in the System as something even magic didn't expect to happen happened. It passed quickly but I was left wondering if I was feeling things.
The Sorting started soon after and the girl turned her head to look at the front of the Great Hall. Though her eyes seemed focused on the Sorting Hat and the First Years, it felt like she was still somehow looking at me. Slightly unnerved and intrigued, my thoughts lingered on the odd girl for the rest of the Sorting, only refocusing on the world around us when Dumbledore stood to make his Start-of-Term announcements.
"Welcome and welcome back, one and all, to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice easily carrying throughout the Great Hall and commanding the students' attention. "It is so good to see you all return alive after such an eventful summer. Yes, even you, Ms. Eldenburg. I hope you are all prepared for an equally eventful school year."
"But before I get to why this year will be so eventful, I believe I have some introductions to make. Everyone, say hello to Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor — the first in 15 years —, Mr. Atlas White. Atlas, if you would be so kind as to stand up and explain your expected duties?"
I did as Dumbledore asked, giving a small wave to the room, "Hello, students. I'm Atlas White. Please call me Atlas. I'm… not very used to being addressed as a 'Mister'. This is, uh, quite awkward for me, considering I was sitting where you are not four months ago…
"Nevertheless, I am here now as Hogwarts' newest Assistant Professor while I pursue my Masteries. I will be assisting in classes as needed and also acting as a tutor for all years. If you need any help at all, please come find me," I ended my short speech somewhat suddenly, sitting down and trying not to cringe at myself. I really needed to raise my Speech.
"Wonderful, Atlas," Dumbledore came to my rescue, securing me a small round of polite applause from the students. "Now, I have one more introduction to make. Ala-…
"Where is that old bloody bastard?" Dumbledore mumbled to himself as if forgetting about the Sonorous charm he was using. Personally, the twinkle in his eyes made me think he did that on purpose…
Thankfully, the students weren't given long to consider the Headmaster's seemingly uncharacteristic vulgarity. The doors to the Great Hall slammed open as if struck by a cannon and the most grizzled man I'd ever seen walked through them.
He walked with a severe limp, one of his legs obviously replaced by a wooden peg. Scars littered his face as if he'd been mauled by a tiger and survived. One of his eyes had been replaced by a disturbing-looking contraption that only vaguely resembled an eyeball and spun in its artificial socket.
"Ah, Alastor," Dumbledore greeted. "So nice of you to finally join us. You're looking quite young and fresh these days. I'm sure the students will be simply delighted to have something beautiful to look at while you teach them to defend themselves."
Alastor just grunted, barely acknowledging Dumbledore's eye-twinkling teasing. He took a swing of a flask that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His magically rotating eye seemed to linger on a select few people including me for a moment too long. As he did, I thought I saw Dumbledore's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.
"Yes…" Dumbledore trailed off for a moment before resuming his spiel. "Students, I would like to introduce you to Hogwarts' latest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Alastor Moody is an old friend of mine and a retired Auror. He is more than qualified for the position. All that remains to be seen is if… when he will succumb to the rumored curse on the position…"
Dumbledore chuckled at his own 'joke', "But I'm sure we don't have anything to worry about in that regard. Now, let me get to the truly exciting stuff-… Ah, apologies, Atlas, Alastor. I did not mean to imply that either of you was boring."
I chuckled awkwardly at Dumbledore's good-natured teasing, still unused to this much attention being directed at me. Alastor, having taken a seat on the other side of the staff table from me, barely reacted at all, looking straight ahead as his magical eye swiveled to and fro. I guess he was long used to Dumbledore's sense of humor as an old friend.
"Hogwarts' Quidditch season will, unfortunately, be canceled this year…"
Pausing for dramatic effect and allowing the students to explode into complaints and chatter, Dumbledore continued, "This is because of a very special event Hogwarts will be hosting this year. In a hair-brained scheme even for them, the Ministry of Magic has decided that the Triwizard Tournament shall be revived and held here at Hogwarts. Yes, yes, I know, how exciting~! Especially to those youths with no concept of mortality…"
I could hear the sarcasm in Dumbledore's tone but the students seemed to ignore it. They exploded into cheers and excited whispers. Dumbledore waited politely for them to calm down.
"To further this effort, Hogwarts will be hosting two magical academies for much of the year. The Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute will be arriving sometime in the coming weeks and I expect Hogwarts to welcome them with open arms and good manners. The actual tournament will begin on Halloween and be limited to of-age students — 20 years old or in their Seventh Year. Those who wish to complain about this stipulation may mail their Howlers to the Minister of Magic," Dumbledore explained, adding the last bit with a twinkle in his eye.
I was watching the students as Dumbledore announced the timing of the tournament so I saw Heather stiffen at the mention of Halloween. It seemed an odd reaction until I remembered the rumors of everything that seemed to happen to the Girl-Who-Lived on Halloween. And considering it was also the anniversary of her parents' deaths… yeah, that reaction made more sense now.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, regaining everyone's attention with the help of his Sonorous charm, "Ahem… Thank you. As always, the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, forbidden for all students. This is your one warning. If you still ignore it and end up paying the consequences, your body shall be mailed home to your parents exactly how it was found."
The only ones concerned by Dumbledore's latest announcement were the First Years. The rest of the students and staff were used to that one by now. It was practically routine, done at the beginning of every year. As far as I knew, there had been no actual student deaths in a while…
"Now, just a single choice word before I stop taking up your time. Floccinaucinihilipilification! Please, tuck in!" Somehow, Dumbledore pronounced that abomination of a word smoothly.
Students chattered excitedly as the feast began and Professor Flitwick engaged me and Septima in conversation, I had a thought. This was certainly going to be an interesting first year as a Professor…