❝ it is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more. ❞ —albus dumbledore

   I lost track of how long I stood there, staring at Bernard Dawson and trying hard not to see my father's face. What pulled me out of my trance was the profound silence that descended over the hall like a blanket when Jeff Willard started speaking.

"Dear young wizards and witches of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he began. His voice was adenoidal and there was a smile playing on his paper-thin lips. "As I presume you have all been informed, we are here to conduct an unpleasant but crucial examination. An examination that happens by standard once a century, which is how rarely individuals that threaten the peace and harmony of the wizarding community are born. However, it hasn't been more than thirty years since the time I and my dear colleagues last walked through these walls. We found this strange occurrence to be curious at first, if not concerning, but proceeded with the examinations nonetheless."

Jeff Willard paused and threw an observing look around the Entrance Hall, as though his hawk-like gaze was searching for someone.

"Much to our surprise, but also relief, the International Confederation of Wizards has been able to identify and arrest a number of such individuals at Castelobruxo, Ilvermorny, Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy," he continued. "And finally, we, the representatives of the British Ministry of Magic have arrived here, at Hogwarts."

   He took another dramatic pause and scanned the room once more. A shiver coursed its way down my spine as his eyes traveled past me for a second, but he didn't seem to notice or recognize me yet.

   "As you all know, these menacing individuals are more commonly referred to as Dolphinuses. They are capable of nonverbal communication with others of their kind, wandless magic, the Dark Art of Necromancy, and incredibly skilled in Legilimency and Cetustongue—also known as the language of aquatic creatures, particularly dolphins. For years, the dolphin has been considered to be a bad omen, and while folklore isn't a reliable source of information, there is truth in every element of fiction. This superstition hasn't arisen without cause as all the uncommon powers and traits that Dolphinuses possess are considered attributes to Dark Wizards.

   "The intentions of the Ministry as an institution concern the preservation of magical law, as well as the wizarding community. That being said, all of the wizards and witches who are suspected to be dangerous, capable of causing harm or being involved in the Dark Arts must be taken care of, as they threaten the very peace and harmony we are fighting hard to preserve. The reason for the existence of several Dolphinuses for the second time within a century—a case never before seen—was made clear to us, as the existence of one such individual who wasn't supposed to exist was brought to our awareness. This individual being the offspring of another Dolphinus that went missing thirty years ago, and was wrongly assumed to be dead. Robert Kin."

   His haunting words had the power to make the silence break. An uproar of frightened whispers and chatter broke out among the crowd of students, though not many appeared to be in shock from such a revelation. I felt the blood pumping in my temples as a series of eyes turned to me. People were backing away from me in either repulsion or fear and before I knew it, they had distanced themselves enough to create a gap around where I stood. 

   Heat crept up my neck, but I didn't meet anyone's eye. My attention was only on Jeff Willard, who tilted his head in a languid movement and narrowed his hawk-like eyes at me. After several seconds of scrutinizing my face, his mouth curved in a smile.

   "Ah, ms. Kin, I was searching for your face in the crowd," he spoke quietly, in a tone of voice so relaxed, like he was sitting down for tea with an old friend. "Polly Annabelle Kin. Our unregistered witch, who transferred from Ilvermorny, isn't that correct?" I didn't have a response ready, nor did he wait for one. "The Minister for Magic, Zico Peterson recently met with the Ilvermorny Headmaster, Agilbert Fontaine, who confirmed you had never been enrolled. But there's more to the story. Your birth doesn't appear in any legal documentation, according to Leopold Strandensheel, the president of the Magical Congress of the United States of America."

   If shock was what the students seemed to be lacking in reaction before, it wasn't this time around. A series of gasps were heard around the hall and all I could do was stand there, rooted to the ground, my eyes trained on Jeff Willard's patronizing expression.

   "Of course," he continued nonchalantly. "President Strandensheel met up with the Muggle President, Geraldine Anderson, who confirmed you did posses formal recognition of birth by the State in the Muggle world, and that you had been enrolled in Muggle schools since a younger age, so I wanted—oh, I wanted so badly, ms. Kin—to disregard it as nothing but a common accident of a witch born and raised by Muggle parents."

I pursed my lips. This man was trying to appear amiable in front of everybody, but I didn't miss the callous smirk that upturned one corner of his mouth.

"But as Breeze McBon delivered a Hogwarts acceptance letter to you at the absurd age of fifteen and then proceeded to take you here, she happened not to have registered your name in the Ministry of Magic in order to legitimize your enrollment . . . or existence. So as far as the wizarding communities in Great Britain and the United States of America were concerned, you didn't exist."

   The idea of being shot in the chest with a Killing Curse felt too real as I found myself being stared at like a delinquent by those around me. I wanted to reach for Sibi or Mike's hands behind me but was too immobilized to lift a finger.

   "But in what way is my existence responsible for that of other Dolphinuses, though?" I found the voice to ask.

Jeff Willard stiffed. His calm demeanor vanished as his piercing eyes flashed, upper lip curling in hateful disdain.

   "Ms. Kin," he spoke in a cautiously controlled voice. "The reason we put an end to wizardkind such as yours is to prevent offsprings who will inherit the attributes and powers you now possess. Once a Dolphinus is born, wherever it may be around the earth, it has what can only described as a chain reaction, so one unfortunate birth leads to others."

   Before I could hold myself back, I scoffed. "That's ridiculous. How would my being born trigger other Dolphinuses' births?"

   Jeff Willard cocked an eyebrow. "Shame you have to ask. Dolphinuses posses powers unbeknownst to the ordinary witch or wizard. But I am inclined to believe you're aware and capable of more than you let on, ms. Kin. Your conspiracies and propaganda have come undone."

   He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand. I tensed, thinking he was going to hex me but he gave it a simple swish and The case of Dolphinuses appeared in thin air. He grabbed the magazine and held it for everyone to see.

   "This," he said, his tone an octave higher. "Is exactly what the International Confederation of Wizards has been trying to prevent for centuries. This," he repeated for emphasis. "Is the type of threat that would lead the wizarding community into another war. Oh, but the fault was ours, for letting your psychotic father slip through our fingers and for wrongfully believing he would never be able to make it at such a young age. We underestimated just how seriously dangerous you lot are. But not this time, not anymore."

   There was a short pause after these words left his mouth. The knuckles of the hand he was holding the magazine with had whitened. His eyes were sparkling in a fury he was no longer bothering to hide.

Filled with newfound courage, I took a step forward.

   "I am not trying to cause a revolt, nor am I trying to stage any conspiracy," I said. "But I am trying to stand up for the kids like myself that are arrested and executed, despite being innocent. This genocide has happened for so long that people have been desensitized to the immorality behind it, but I promise you they see it."

I paused and took a deep breath. I didn't know where the words were coming so effortlessly from, but it was as though I'd been struck by a current of everything I'd kept in for so long. "They see it and disagree with it but nobody has dared to stand up against it because they have been conditioned to view us in this stigmatized light. The Ministry is so concerned with the appearance of false danger, and you are pitting us wizards against each-other for no reason. It's like you're desperately trying to make a war happen when ironically, that's what you are trying to avoid. Just because Dolphinuses possess uncommon powers, it doesn't mean they'll exercise them for bad."

   "It also doesn't mean they won't and it doesn't mean they haven't," Willard interrupted harshly. The blood had crept up his neck and risen to his face. "You have no clue as to what sort of problems a war can cause, Kin. How coincidental, isn't it? It's you who is the anarchist, exactly you, the daughter of the most infamous murderer of all time."

   "My father was not a murderer!" I hollered. Ignoring the stares and murmurs of those around me, ignoring the thumping of my heart and my fingernails digging into the palms of my clenched hands, I glared at Willard like my glare had the ability to maim him. "He ran away like any scared kid his age would. You can't arrest people for crimes they haven't and may never commit. That's injustice. And injustice can create murderers out of innocents."

"We're with you, Polly!" came a girl's voice from somewhere in the crowd. "We believe in you."

My stomach turned and I had to look at the ground beneath my feet for a moment. Something sank in that I hadn't realized before: despite the people that hated or feared me, there were also those who actually still believed in me and my initiative. Saw me as a heroine. Probably thought I'd make it out of Azkaban and save the day.

   I looked up to see Willard's hawk-like eyes that had become the size of golf balls at the girl's words. And I could tell, not knowing how or why, that he was scared. The girl's reaction had been what he was trying to suppress by silencing me. His nostrils flared.

   "Why are we even wasting our time and breath arguing with her?"

   This time, it wasn't Jeff Willard who spoke. It was the executioner, Bernard Dawson. I removed my gaze from Willard and locked eyes with the man who was none other than my own father. My heart dropped to my feet and I bit my inner cheeks. The whole time I had tried to ignore him, but I couldn't do so any longer as he looked at me in contempt.

   Dad . . . It's me, dad. Your daughter, Polly. Do you not recognize me? I have your eyes.

   "Foolish girl," Dawson said, giving a malicious laugh. "Did you really think that anything would change just because McBon used you as her toy to get Zico Peterson's post as Minister?"

   I finally plucked up the courage to stare right into this man's eyes and push any feelings of yearning for my father aside. This man wasn't my father. He wasn't Robert Kin. His name was Bernard Dawson and he was an executioner. A murderer. Everything my father was not.

   "Breeze never wanted to take the Minister's post," I practically shrieked. "And she didn't use me as her toy. She was only trying to help me like she did for my father, but people like you don't understand what caring for a person means."

   Headmaster Dashawn took a step forward, turning to the two men with a threatening look. I'd never seen his usually gentle face wear such a vexed expression.

   "I will not allow you to treat my dear colleague as an object of defamatory ridicule," he said hotly. "I'm afraid I must ask you to finish what you came here for and go."

   Jeff Willard turned to Dashawn and looked at him up and down.

   "Believe me, Boden," he said with a sardonic smile. "I wouldn't be able to stay here a minute longer even if you were to tell me I'd get 2,000 Galleons."

   Then he turned to the third man, Ted Raymond, who had remained silent the whole time.

   "Get them," he commanded.

   Raymond descended the stairs rapturously. As he made his way over to me, people started to step aside in unease. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I heard my friends around me whisper reassuring words in my ear—some patting me on the back, others holding my hands or grabbing me by the arms protectively like they didn't want to let me go. I didn't want them to let me go.

   As Raymond approached, I felt an almost irresistible impulse to bring out my wand and hit him with a curse. But I knew that fighting him would be pointless, so I just stood there stiffly, allowing him to grab hold of my right arm and carry me away like a rag doll.

Don't fight your fate, Polly, Breeze's words from her letter replayed in my head.

"Move your goddamn feet," Raymond grunted. "I ain't staying here all day."

I made my way forward in dogged steps, the Auror's fingers digging into my skin from his strong hold. I turned to look back at my friends' teary faces. The air lodged in my throat as I realized this might be the last time I'd ever get to see them.

Sibi was sobbing and Mike's arm was wrapped softly around her shoulders in a feeble attempt to soothe her, while tears leaked out of his eyes too. Christine was next to them, holding Stella's shaking body close to herself as though stubbornly refusing to let her sister get taken away from her. Rosalinda had linked her arm with Christine's, her eyes fixed on the ground and all color drained from her face.

My eyes traveled to Alex, who was standing to their left, his hand clutching Stella's shoulder. His grey eyes were puffy and his face blotchy as he whispered what were most likely reassuring words on Stella's ear. A tortured sob threatened to rip up my throat but Raymond impatiently urged me to keep moving. I walked up the flight of stairs where Jeff Willard, Bernard Dawson and Headmaster Dashawn stood.

"Good job, Ted," Willard said to Raymond in a satisfied tone. "Now get the other one."

Before the Auror left to get Stella under Willard's orders, he grabbed hold of my other arm and nimbly tied my hands together with a rope he conjured into existence. Fuming, I followed his movements as he made his way toward Stella.

"Go fuck yourself," Christine yelled.

She pushed Stella toward Alex and stepped in front of her, extending her arms in a protective gesture to shield her from Raymond. The stout man let out an unintelligible grumble and pushed her aside harshly. Christine didn't let go without a fight. Her small body latched onto Raymond's right arm and she started throwing punches and kicks. In a matter of seconds, a commotion spread across the Entrance Hall and people began to gather around the fight scene.

"I'll take care of it," Bernard Dawson said from beside me. He took out his wand and started making his way downstairs but Dawson stopped him.

"Do not attempt to raise a wand at my students," he warned.

Dawson gave a half-smile. "I just wanted to calm the waters."

But he didn't have to. Raymond emerged from the crowd with Stella under his grip. She wasn't crying but there was horror plastered on her pallid face and my chest burned just by looking at her. Her hands were tied behind her back as well and there was a yellow flower tucked behind her right ear. I knew Alex had given it to her, just like he'd done for me.

The executioner's scornful laughter reached my ears and I turned to look at headmaster Dashawn, whose face was beet red in fury. My gaze then moved out to the crowd of student, which had calmed down after the fight scene. I searched for Christine's face, but she wasn't there anymore.

My eyes found Rena, Ralph and Melvin Richards. A crushing weight formed in my chest as I stared at them. It hurt to see downhearted looks on the faces of the only people who were always cheerful, ready to cause some trouble and in the mood to have a laugh. This time, I didn't stop the tears that welled in my eyes. I allowed them to freely flow down my face and kill off every other emotion. Except rage.

   My gaze came to a stop as I made out the figures of a boy and a girl with porcelain skin and identical honey-blonde curls. I blinked several times to clear my vision, which was hazy from tears and finally I saw them clearly, the traitors. Maddie and Akker Simmons. There was satisfaction written in their icy blue eyes. They seemed pleased with the turn of events, proud even.

"Alright, time to leave now," announced Bernard Dawson.

   He smirked callously, the sight of it making my lips tighten in a grimace. My brain was whirling. I felt nauseated, something I had felt way too often as of recently.

Jeff Willard said some final words and acknowledgments in the same saccharine tone he used in his introductory speech but I wasn't paying attention. Throwing one final glance back at my friends and the other students in the Entrance Hall, I felt an urge to flee this place as fast as I could. Now I understood why dad had done it thirty years earlier.

   Only when Raymond nudged me hard, urging me to move, did I realize we were on our way out. I dropped my gaze from my friends' warm faces. I couldn't bear that sight anymore, the tear-filled eyes, the despondent looks, the hopelessness that hung ominously in the air.

   I walked out of the Entrance Hall from the back door with Stella by my side, the Ministry officials following close behind. They kept a watchful eye on every step we took, as though we would attempt to escape. I continued walking with my head bent. When we reached the front gate, we finally came to a stop.

Raymond reached into his pocket and brought out some sharp instruments he started fumbling with. Syringes. He gripped my arm before I could question what he was filling them with and I subconsciously flinched.

   "Calm down," he said. "This will be merely a tickle in comparison to what you're going to face from now on. Oh, you will grow accustomed to pain, ms. Kin. Don't worry about it."

   I shouldn't have felt goosebumps form on my skin as those words left his mouth. I shouldn't have felt my heart pounding against my ribcage with the same force aunt Camilla used to pound on the door of my house each time I pretended to forget to take Puppy for a walk.

   But I did because I knew that what he said was true. My reality would now become more brutal than my worst of nightmares.

   Raymond moved closer, and without any warning, he stuck the needle in my neck, pushing it into my vein. The force he used made a low groan escape my lips. He stepped back and made his way over to Stella.

   Dark spots and glistening lights flashed behind my eyelids when I blinked. My knees went wobbly and I felt the injection rushing up toward my brain.

   The last thing I heard was a whisper, a male's voice, cold, mocking, sounding like it came from a thousand miles away. The words reverberated in my head like a broken record. "Sweet dreams."

   Hogwarts . . . There it was, this divine castle, so close to me, yet so far away. The place that had become my second home and given me more to remember just in the span of several months than any other place I'd spent the previous fifteen years of my life in.

   I could feel my consciousness slowly ebbing. But the thought of being unconscious sent an odd wave of calmness through me. It was consoling, in a bizarre way. Maybe because I wouldn't have to deal with the terror for some hours, maybe because being unconscious would be better than being awake to think about what my life would look like from now on.

   My heavy eyelids closed. My limp body fell to the ground, but I didn't feel the impact. There was only one last thought that crossed my mind, two final words I whispered before I let the darkness take over.

   "Goodbye, Hogwarts."

THE END