Late September brought a steady, freezing drizzle to London.
The gloomy weather perfectly matched the mood of Dorsey Wright, one of the Ministry’s newest Aurors.
Dorsey had received the badge he had dreamed of only a few months earlier.
He had imagined himself pursuing dark wizards, investigating dangerous criminals, and hunting down the remaining followers of Voldemort.
Reality had been considerably less exciting.
His first assignment was to watch an old Gothic mansion beside Highgate Cemetery.
The target of the investigation, a mysterious young wizard named Leon Cromwell, showed no obvious signs of practicing dark magic beyond his questionable decision to live beside a graveyard.
Leon had been personally appointed by Dumbledore as Hogwarts’ new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
However, the Ministry insisted on monitoring him because no official records existed concerning his family, education, or previous activities.
For nearly two months, Leon had done nothing suspicious.
He visited Diagon Alley several times, purchased snacks and soft drinks from Muggle stores, and spent the rest of his time inside the mansion.
Once the Hogwarts term began, he stopped returning home regularly.
Dorsey could not understand why the Ministry had continued the surveillance.
Crack!
Someone Apparated directly into his concealed observation post.
Alastor Moody emerged from the darkness and limped toward him, his wooden leg striking the wet ground with a dull thud.
“Captain Moody?” Dorsey whispered in surprise.
He had not expected one of the Ministry’s most experienced Aurors to personally investigate such an uneventful assignment.
“Keep quiet,” Moody growled.
His magical eye spun inside its socket as he surveyed the surrounding streets.
“The Ministry detected unusual magical activity nearby.
Someone is approaching.” A small figure appeared through the rain.
At first glance, she looked like a lost child.
The girl wore a thin white dress, and her bare feet carried her directly toward the mansion’s iron gate.
The countless protective enchantments surrounding Leon’s property did not react.
The gate opened under an invisible force, allowing her to walk into the courtyard without resistance.
“Is that girl one of Cromwell’s accomplices?” Dorsey asked nervously as he reached for his wand.
“Don’t move,” Moody ordered, forcing his arm down.
“Keep watching.
The owner is returning as well.” Space distorted inside the courtyard.
Leon Cromwell appeared within the shadows.
The battle that followed destroyed everything the two Aurors believed they understood about magic.
Leon attacked without warning or hesitation.
Twisting geometric patterns made from multicolored light appeared around the mysterious girl, filling the courtyard with a hypnotic radiance.
“What kind of spell is that?” Dorsey whispered in horror.
“Don’t look at it!” Moody grabbed the younger Auror and shoved his face into the mud.
He immediately lowered his own head, relying on his magical eye to continue observing the confrontation.
The warning came too late for Dorsey.
His eyes rolled backward, and his body became limp as the strange pattern overwhelmed his mind.
“An illusion that incapacitates anyone who sees it?” Moody muttered.
Even with decades of experience fighting dark wizards, he had never encountered anything similar.
The courtyard suddenly erupted.
Enormous black tentacles burst from the ground, their slick limbs twisting around the small intruder.
A violent storm followed, raining massive hailstones and shards of ice upon the entire area.
Moody had survived the First Wizarding War and witnessed countless brutal battles.
Yet he had never seen a wizard combine spells with such speed or destructive precision.
The storm gradually faded.
The girl emerged from the frozen mist with her white dress torn and her skin reddened by the cold.
Despite taking the full force of Leon’s assault, she showed no serious injuries.
Leon immediately raised his ebony wand.
A thin beam of dark green energy gathered at its tip.
Moody’s magical eye spun wildly.
As an Auror who had captured numerous Death Eaters, he recognized that color all too well.
“The Killing Curse?” Was Hogwarts’ newest professor casting an Unforgivable Curse without the slightest hesitation?
The green ray shot toward the girl.
At that distance, avoiding it should have been impossible.
Moody instinctively believed the battle was over.
Then he witnessed something that contradicted one of the most fundamental rules of wizarding magic.
The girl raised her bare hand.
Silver flames ignited across her palm and swallowed the green beam.
The lethal-looking spell burned away within the fire, disappearing without leaving a mark.
“That’s impossible…” Every witch and wizard knew that the Killing Curse had no countercurse.
It could not be blocked by ordinary magical defenses, and a direct hit always resulted in death.
Yet a child had apparently caught it with one hand.
Moody’s magical eye stopped turning.
Who were Leon Cromwell and this mysterious girl?
Before he could decide whether to summon reinforcements, the battle abruptly ended.
The girl disappeared in a flash of silver light, leaving Leon alone among the ruins of his courtyard.
Leon turned his head toward the Aurors’ hiding place.
“You’ve watched long enough, Mr.
Moody.
You may as well come out.” Moody drew a slow breath and ignored Dorsey, who remained unconscious and drooling in the mud.
He limped from the bushes with his wand raised and aimed directly at Leon.
“Explain yourself, Cromwell.” His scarred face hardened while his magical eye tracked every movement Leon made.
“Why did the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts just use an Unforgivable Curse?” “An Unforgivable Curse?” Leon adjusted his silver-framed glasses and gave the Auror a mocking smile.
“Have you ever seen someone block the Killing Curse with their bare hand?” Moody fell silent.
Leon was right.
If the spell had truly been [Avada Kedavra], the girl should not have been able to stop it.
“It was green, and it was clearly intended to kill,” Moody insisted, though uncertainty had entered his voice.
His thoughts were in turmoil.
If he submitted a report claiming that a ten-year-old girl had caught the Killing Curse, Cornelius Fudge would probably send him to St.
Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
“It is a form of magic beyond your understanding, Auror.” Leon had no intention of explaining [Disintegrate] or discussing the silver fire that had neutralized it.
The mysterious girl had placed him under enough pressure already.
“This mansion is private property,” he continued coldly.
“You and your partner have spent weeks hiding outside my home without permission.” His expression darkened.
“Take your man and leave.
If I discover any more Ministry rats watching my front door, I may allow you to experience that green spell personally.” Leon raised one hand.
“[Wall of Force].” An invisible barrier appeared across the mansion’s entrance.
It merged with the surrounding space, forming a surface that could not be broken by physical attacks or crossed through Apparition.
Leon turned his back on Moody and walked toward the house.
Through his magical eye, Moody examined the unseen wall.
He found no opening, weakness, or recognizable magical structure that could be dispelled.
“Very well,” he said through clenched teeth.
He grabbed Dorsey by the back of his robes and pulled the unconscious Auror from the mud.
“I’ll report everything that happened tonight to Dumbledore.” Leon did not respond.
Only after reaching his arcane laboratory did he finally release a long breath.
Cold sweat had soaked the back of his robe.
He had not possessed enough strength to fight Moody.
His only sixth-circle spell slot had been consumed by [Disintegrate], and Leon was not confident that his remaining lower-circle spells could defeat one of Britain’s most dangerous Aurors.
He had therefore relied on intimidation and spent his final fifth-circle slot creating the [Wall of Force].
Fortunately, Moody could not casually dismantle the barrier the way Dumbledore had.
Leon collapsed into an armchair and opened his status panel.
[Level: 11—56%] His experience had increased by more than half after a single battle.
“What exactly was that girl?” Leon stared at the number in disbelief.
“Fighting her once gave me more experience than killing Voldemort a hundred times.” She had recognized his spells, survived his entire attack sequence, and neutralized [Disintegrate] with silver flames.
Those details led Leon toward an increasingly unbelievable possibility.
“Could she be one of Mystra’s Chosen?” Mystra was the name Leon had casually used when Dumbledore asked about his teacher.
Now the Lady of Mysteries had become impossible to ignore.
In the Forgotten Realms, Mystra was not simply another powerful spellcaster.
She was the goddess of magic and the guardian of the Weave.
Unlike the magical world Leon currently inhabited, spellcasters in Faerûn accessed magic through that invisible structure.
Almost every Wizard, Sorcerer, Cleric, and magical creature relied upon the Weave to shape supernatural power.
Mystra controlled it.
Leon slowly pushed his glasses higher.
“The Weave is still a web…” An absurd comparison entered his mind.
Had using Forgotten Realms magic in another universe been like connecting to a private network from an unknown location?
If so, perhaps Mystra—the network administrator—had noticed an unauthorized user.
“Even after I crossed into another world, she followed the connection back to me?” Leon stared silently at the ceiling.
“That is one terrifying network administrator.” [Reader Support Milestones]