บท 58: 58. Time is a Fickle Thing
In the months following the successful intervention against the poachers, Apollyon's journey under Newt Scamander's tutelage blossomed into an extraordinary period of growth and discovery. Each day brought new lessons, not just about magical creatures and their care, but about the complexities of the magical world and her place within it.
Apollyon immersed herself in the study of magical veterinary practices under the guidance of Dr. Elara Finch. She learned the delicate art of healing spells tailored to a variety of magical creatures, from the common Niffler to the rare and elusive Demiguise. Her natural affinity for understanding and connecting with these beings, combined with her newfound knowledge, allowed her to assist in treatments that ranged from mending broken wings of injured Pixies to soothing the ailments of an aging Kneazle.
Her studies were not confined to the sanctuary. Newt arranged for field excursions to various magical habitats, each offering its unique challenges and learning opportunities. Apollyon learned to navigate the dense, whispering forests where Bowtruckles guarded their tree homes, and she trekked through hidden valleys where Mooncalves danced under the full moon. These excursions deepened her understanding of the creatures in their natural environments, teaching her the importance of conservation and the delicate balance of the magical ecosystem.
Perhaps most significantly, Apollyon delved deeper into the study of Obscurials, a subject close to her heart. With Newt's encouragement, she explored the nuances of her own Obscurial nature, seeking ways to harness its power for positive ends. This journey of self-discovery led her to experiment with advanced magical techniques, blending her inherent magical abilities with her Obscurial essence to create new forms of spellcasting that were both potent and precise.
Her unique approach to magic caught the attention of the magical academic community. With Newt's support, Apollyon began documenting her findings, contributing chapters to a new edition of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" that focused on the care, understanding, and protection of magical creatures from an empathetic standpoint. Her work highlighted the importance of understanding and respecting the natural world, advocating for a harmonious coexistence between magical beings and wizards.
Apollyon's reputation as a protector of magical creatures grew, and she became a sought-after consultant for various magical conservation projects. Her efforts to rehabilitate and release creatures back into the wild were recognized by the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA), leading to collaborations that expanded the sanctuary's reach and impact.
Throughout these months, Apollyon's bond with Newt deepened, forged through shared experiences and a mutual respect for all forms of magical life. She became not just his apprentice but his colleague, contributing to his life's work with her unique perspective and abilities.
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Months into her enriching journey under Newt Scamander's mentorship, amidst a routine steeped in the wonders of magical creatures and the pursuit of knowledge, Apollyon's world was suddenly upended by startling news from Britain. The message arrived unexpectedly, a tautly written note delivered by a weary-looking owl that had clearly traversed great distances. Its contents were grave: Hogwarts had fallen under the control of forces loyal to Voldemort, and the situation in Britain was deteriorating rapidly.
The note detailed how the Order of the Phoenix was rallying, preparing to undertake a daring mission to storm the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry had become a stronghold for Voldemort's supporters, a place where innocent people were held and where dark secrets were at risk of being unearthed. Apollyon's heart clenched as she read the words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The world she had left behind, which she had hoped was holding strong against the rising tide of darkness, was in peril.
Newt found her in the sanctuary's library, the note clutched tightly in her hand, her expression a mix of determination and distress. "Apollyon, what's happened?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.
She handed him the note, watching as his eyes scanned the message. A heavy sigh escaped him as he finished reading. "I feared this day might come," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The forces against us are gaining strength, and it seems Hogwarts is no longer safe."
Apollyon's resolve hardened. "I have to go back, Newt. The Order needs me, and there are people at the Ministry... people who shouldn't suffer because of Voldemort's quest for power. I can't stay here while there's a fight to be had there."
Newt nodded, understanding the weight of her decision. "I know, Apollyon. Your courage and your heart have always guided you to stand up against darkness. You've learned much here, grown in ways that will serve you well in the battles to come."
In the following days, Apollyon prepared for her departure. Newt offered her advice, magical items that might aid her, and, most importantly, his unwavering support. "Remember, Apollyon," he said as she was ready to leave, "the bonds you've formed with the creatures here, the empathy and understanding you've shown, they're your strength. Carry them with you. They'll be a light in the darkness."
With a heavy heart but a steadfast spirit, Apollyon set out for Britain, leaving the sanctuary and her sanctuary family behind. The journey back was a blur, her mind preoccupied with strategies and what awaited her. Upon her arrival, she was immediately swept up in the Order's preparations, her unique abilities and insights quickly making her a key figure in the planning of the Ministry storming.
The night before the mission, Apollyon stood among her fellow Order members, their faces set in grim determination. The air was charged with a potent mix of fear, hope, and resolve. "We fight not just for the present," she said, her voice clear and strong, "but for a future where the magical world is free from the tyranny that seeks to engulf it. For Hogwarts, for freedom, and for the light."
As dawn broke, casting the first light on what would be one of the darkest days in their fight against Voldemort, Apollyon and the Order set forth toward the Ministry of Magic.
As the first light of dawn cast a pale glow over the landscape, Apollyon and the members of the Order of the Phoenix approached the Ministry of Magic. The usually bustling streets of London were eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the gravity of their mission. The early morning mist clung to the ground, shrouding the city in a ghostly veil that seemed to mirror the unease that lay heavy in their hearts.
The Ministry building loomed ahead, an imposing structure that, under normal circumstances, stood as a testament to the strength and order of the magical community. But today, it felt different—foreboding, even—as if the very stones were aware of the dark forces that had taken root within.
As they neared the entrance, the usual vibrancy that surrounded the Ministry was conspicuously absent. No bustling crowds of witches and wizards heading to work, no echoes of laughter or snippets of conversation—just a chilling silence that seemed to swallow even the sound of their footsteps.
Apollyon felt a shiver run down her spine, not from the chill in the air, but from the realization of what this silence represented. The Ministry of Magic, once the heart of their world, now stood as a fortress for Voldemort's regime, its walls holding secrets and sorrows that were a far cry from its intended purpose.
The group paused at the entrance, hidden from view by a spell of concealment. Apollyon surveyed the scene, her eyes taking in the quiet facade of the building. The early morning light cast long shadows, giving the Ministry an almost spectral appearance. It was as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break.
"Remember," whispered Kingsley Shacklebolt, his voice barely audible, "our priority is to liberate those held inside and secure any information that could turn the tide in our favor. We must move swiftly and with purpose."
Nods of agreement passed among the group, a silent testament to their readiness and resolve. Apollyon gripped her wand tightly, her resolve steeling her for the task ahead. The bonds she had formed, the lessons learned, all culminated in this moment. She was no longer just a protector of magical creatures; she was a defender of the magical world itself.
With a collective signal, the group dissolved the concealment charm and moved towards the entrance. The doors, once open to all, now served as a barrier to the darkness within. With a series of carefully coordinated spells, they breached the entrance, stepping into the dimly lit atrium of the Ministry.
The interior was as quiet as the world outside, the usual hum of activity silenced by the oppressive regime that now held sway. The grandeur of the atrium, with its gleaming marble floors and the majestic statues that spoke of justice and unity, was overshadowed by a palpable sense of fear and desolation.
As they moved forward, Apollyon's senses were heightened, attuned to any sign of danger. The creepiness of the quiet building, with its corridors that had once echoed with the lively steps of its inhabitants, now felt like a labyrinth designed to trap unwary souls.
The mission had begun.
Apollyon, accompanied by another Order member, Tonks, ventured deeper into the Ministry's unnerving silence. Their footsteps were muted against the marble floors, each step taken with caution, their wands at the ready. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their mission pressing down on them as they navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the building.
They were tasked with securing the Department of Mysteries, a place shrouded in secrecy even under normal circumstances. The department held objects and information of immense power, including the Hall of Prophecies and the repository of Time-Turners—artifacts that could not be allowed to fall into Voldemort's hands.
As they approached the entrance to the Department of Mysteries, Apollyon felt a pull towards it, an inexplicable draw that seemed to resonate with the very core of her being. She shared a quick, determined look with Tonks before they silently agreed to proceed.
The door to the Department of Mysteries opened with a quiet creak, revealing the darkened chamber beyond. They stepped inside, their wands casting beams of light that pierced the darkness. The chamber was vast, filled with shadowy alcoves and mysterious artifacts that seemed to watch them as they passed.
Apollyon led the way to the Hall of Prophecies, her heart racing with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The hall was as she remembered from her studies—a vast, circular room lined with shelves that reached up into the darkness, each one cradling glowing orbs that whispered of fates and futures untold.
The sight of the hall, filled with the soft, eerie light of the prophecies, was both breathtaking and somber. Apollyon moved slowly among the shelves, her eyes scanning the orbs, aware of the power they held. She knew they must act quickly, but the allure of the prophecies was hard to resist.
Tonks, ever vigilant, kept watch at the entrance while Apollyon examined the area for anything that might aid their cause. It was then that she felt the familiar stir of her Obscurial nature, a sensation that guided her hand towards a specific prophecy orb—one that seemed to call out to her.
Shaking off the compulsion, Apollyon remembered their mission. They couldn't afford to be sidetracked by curiosity. With a regretful glance at the orb, she turned her attention to finding the Time-Turners, knowing that their control over time could be crucial in the fight against Voldemort.
The repository of Time-Turners was located in a separate chamber, hidden behind a series of complex spells that took Apollyon and Tonks precious minutes to unravel. Inside, they found the Time-Turners secured in a series of locked cases. With a swift spell, Apollyon unlocked them, taking several of the devices and placing them carefully into a bag enchanted to protect its contents.
As they prepared to leave, Apollyon took one last look around the Department of Mysteries, feeling a sense of urgency. The knowledge and artifacts within its walls were a reminder of the vast and intricate tapestry of the magical world—a world that was now under threat.
With the Time-Turners secured, Apollyon and Tonks retraced their steps.
As Apollyon and Tonks made their cautious retreat from the Department of Mysteries, with the secured Time-Turners in tow, they were suddenly halted by a chilling voice that echoed through the corridors, cutting through the silence with a sinister clarity. "Well, well, what do we have here?"
Turning, they saw Sirius Black stepping out from the shadows, his appearance strikingly different from the man history had once revered as a hero. His allegiance had taken a dark turn, his eyes now reflecting a cold devotion to Voldemort. The sight of him, a once-valued member of the Order now turned adversary, sent a ripple of shock and betrayal through Apollyon.
"Sirius," Tonks said, her voice tense with disbelief. "You don't have to do this."
Sirius's response was a cold laugh, void of any warmth he once possessed. "Oh, but I believe I do," he retorted, his wand at the ready, pointing directly at them.
The duel that ensued was fierce and swift, Sirius Black demonstrating a level of dueling prowess that made it clear why he had been so feared and respected. Apollyon and Tonks worked together seamlessly, their spells weaving a tapestry of defense and attack, but Sirius countered each move with chilling efficiency. His spells were sharp, his movements fluid—each action showcasing his mastery and the dark intent behind his allegiance.
Apollyon, despite the intensity of the situation, found herself trying to reach out to Sirius, not just with spells but with words, hoping to find a remnant of the man who had once stood for all that was good. "Sirius, this isn't you! You fought against this kind of darkness!"
But Sirius, consumed by his new convictions, was unmoved. "The world isn't as black and white as you think, girl," he sneered, launching a particularly vicious spell that Apollyon barely managed to deflect.
The duel escalated, spells clashing with spells, the echo of their magic reverberating through the deserted corridors. Despite their best efforts, Apollyon and Tonks found themselves pressed back, Sirius's expertise giving him the upper hand.
In a moment of desperation, Apollyon tapped into the depth of her Obscurial nature, channeling it into her magic in a way she had never done before. The power that surged through her was intense, frightening even, but it gave her spells a new edge, a raw force that momentarily took Sirius by surprise.
The duel had reached a fever pitch, Apollyon's and Tonks's spells dancing desperately against Sirius's relentless assault. It was in this chaos, as Apollyon summoned the depths of her power, that Sirius Black found his moment. With a sinister grin, he aimed his wand directly at Apollyon, the words "Bombarda Maxima" falling from his lips like a death knell.
The spell hit with catastrophic force. Apollyon, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in Sirius's strategy, had only a split second to brace herself. The impact was monumental, a concussive blast that tore through the air with a deafening roar. The Time-Turners Apollyon had carefully secured in her bag were the spell's immediate victims, shattering under the spell's immense power.
The explosion sent a shockwave of heat and force that enveloped Apollyon, throwing her back with brutal intensity. As she flew through the air, her body wracked with pain, a strange sensation enveloped her, transcending the physical trauma of the blast. It was as if the very fabric of time itself was warping around her, the shattered remnants of the Time-Turners unleashing a maelstrom of temporal energy.
Apollyon's world became a blur of colors and sounds, an eerie silence punctuating the chaos as the concept of time twisted and turned in upon itself. She could feel the heat, not just from the explosion, but from the raw, untamed energy of time being ruptured and set adrift. It was a sensation beyond description, beyond understanding—a feeling of being everywhere and nowhere, of seeing moments stretched into infinity and compressed into an instant.
Amidst this temporal turmoil, Apollyon's consciousness flickered, caught between the realms of the physical and something far more abstract. Her Obscurial nature, so closely tied to her magical essence, resonated with the unleashed forces, creating a resonance that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Apollyon's eyes fluttered open to a world both familiar and impossibly distant. A harsh contrast to the chaos of the Ministry's corridors she remembered. But it wasn't just the setting that was disorientingly out of place—it was her own presence there, her hands, her body, seemingly younger, smaller. A glance at a nearby mirror confirmed the impossible truth: she was once again 10 years old, her reflection showing a child staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes.
Panic surged through her, a tidal wave of disbelief and horror. How? The Time-Turners—had their destruction sent her back? But why here, why now, to the very beginnings of her journey into the magical world? Her mind raced, grappling with the implications, the enormity of what had happened. Six years—vanished. Every friendship forged, every lesson learned, every battle fought—erased as if it had never occurred.
The sorrow was immediate and crushing, a sense of loss so profound it threatened to overwhelm her. She had returned to a time before Hogwarts, before Newt and the sanctuary, before she had discovered her purpose and her strength. The life she had built, the identity she had carved for herself in a world she had come to love, had been ripped away, leaving her stranded in a past that felt like a shadow of her true self.
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as the gravity of her situation sank in. The people she had known, the creatures she had sworn to protect, the battles she had fought alongside the Order—all of it was now out of reach, existing in a future she had been torn from. The thought of going through it all again, of trying to find her way back to where she belonged, was daunting, suffocating.
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