EverythiNg Comes With a Price

Some things in life cannot be reversed.

The overwhelming stench of burning flesh infiltrated Hope's senses, making her eyes water and stomach churn. Thick smoke billowed upward, staining the black sky an ashy hue. 

It was a grotesque sight of charred skin and anguished cries in the clearing that night.

Hope stared at the scene before her with amber, unforgiving eyes. Not a trace of regret or guilt present in her mind or soul.

Yes, there are some things in life a person cannot reverse.

Those are the things you keep to yourself.

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A high-pitched yelp and a pain-filled screech filled the space inside Newt's suitcase. Icy dread pierced Hope as she looked around, attention away from the Mooncalfs she was feeding, seeing the Niffler running with a limp away from one of the enclosures.

Newt was already skidding to a stop, one hand scooping the Niffler up while the other held a bucket of half-eaten fish heads he'd been feeding the Kelpie.

"Now, now. I did warn you. He doesn't want you snooping about." Newt frowned as he sat on the damp ground while Hope set her own bucket of food aside to assist Newt and the injured Niffler.

Hope frowned as she sat across from him, watching the Niffler bury his snout into Newt's shirt while whining and squealing.

"What happened?" Hope frowned, seeing a bit of blood drip down Newt's fingers where he held the poor beast.

Newt pursed his lips. "Got nipped, I think," he sighed softly, petting his little head gently, "not everyone will tolerate you taking what isn't yours." He frowned.

The Niffler's cries broke something inside Hope, filling her eyes with heated tears. "Let me see," she said, just as Newt reached into his satchel for something to dress the wound, "I can help, I think."

Newt glanced up, meeting her eyes, and with a sad smile, offered her the Niffler. Hope embraced him and wrapped her fingers around his hind leg. This wouldn't be the first time she'd healed something, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 

Hope closed her eyes, and at that moment, a rush of warm wind, tousling their hair, blew around them. As the Niffler's cries soon quieted, Hope opened her eyes and set him between herself and Newt. He shook out his little leg and then quickly scampered away.

Smiling, Hope let out a happy sigh. It felt good when she used her powers for good, like when she'd made the meadow flourish with sweet-smelling flowers. It left her with a swarm of warm, bubbling power rather than the electric adrenaline when she used her power for destruction. 

Newt smiled, taking her hand, making her look up at his wonderstruck eyes.

"You have healing abilities?"

Nodding, she smiled. "Hm, I can. It's one of those spells that doesn't need an incantation. Just…power and concentration. And practice, of course," she smiled crookedly and traced her thumb along the back of his hand, "It's a good power, though, but it takes a lot. Not many can master it; when they do, it's for smaller things. He was small enough, much bigger, and I'd definitely feel the after-effects."

Hope paused, being pulled back to another time, though she supposed it was technically forward as that time hadn't occurred yet.

"When I was very little, maybe at age five, I started healing little things." She nodded, recalling when she first met her father and healed a butterfly's broken wing." Hope smiled fondly at the memory. "Where I grew up as a child, it would rain, and all the worms would crawl onto the sidewalks and roads. Then the sun would be out as if it hadn't even poured rain, and the worms would get stuck on the pavement, so I'd walk around and heal the ones I could find. I'd return them to the dirt and…" Hope shrugged her shoulders with a small smile. "It was one of my favorite things to do. Even if it made me tired at the end." A slight frown turned down the corners of her mouth. 

"Then I tried something larger. There was a cat that had been run over by a car," she nodded, swallowing hard, "all I wanted to do was save it. I thought I could heal it. I was six," she shook her head and smiled without it reaching her eyes, biting her lower lip, "I put too much pressure on myself. I thought I could do it. But I couldn't; it died while trying to bring it back…" Hope sighed softly, trailing off before letting her gaze flit back to Newt, who sat quiet and still, watching her with glistening eyes. "I stopped trying. Told myself that if I never tried again, I wouldn't have to feel that pain again." 

They were quiet for a moment before Newt broke the silence. "I can understand that feeling," he murmured, "at one point, not too long ago, I was trying to help a Qilin give birth. Then," he paused, "well, then something happened, and one of the babies was taken. She'd had twins. I'll never forget that feeling of loss. Trying so hard to help and ultimately failing in the end. It haunts me."

Carefully, Hope took his hand in her and stroked lightly over his knuckles. "It's a good thing you didn't give up," she smiled, looking around the suitcase, "or else this wouldn't all remain."

Newt smiled and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips that she returned with equal tenderness.

"Albus will be wondering where we are for supper."

"I'm sure he already knows," Hope grinned, stroking his jaw lightly, "but I am craving chocolate. So much." 

With a chuckle, he squeezed her hands. "Then chocolate you shall have."

They stood and quickly fed the other creatures their evening meal before climbing the ladder to enter Albus' study.

"Ah, just in time," Albus smiled as he closed his book and set his quill aside before standing at his feet behind his desk, "I was beginning to think you'd be missing supper. Shall we go down?"

"I'm starved." Hope smiled, following Newt to the washing basin to get cleaned up. She had spent the last few days preparing for the class she'd teach at the start of term.

Muggle Studies.

It shouldn't be too difficult, as she knew so much from first-hand experience. It was a strange thing to her, if she was honest. Sure, she had magic power and labeled herself as part witch, but she hadn't considered that the Wizarding World didn't use what the Muggle World had to offer.

She, a Tribrid, watched television, used a cell phone, and drove a car. She did everything a Muggle would do- in her time anyway. Yet, they never used anything of the sort here.

"You seem puzzled." Albus chuckled as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

Hope glanced over at him and smiled with a shrug. "I guess it's strange to me. Both the Wizard and Muggle world have a lot to offer. Why only use Magic and never what they have? I grew up learning Magic, but I also grew up texting."

"Texting?" Newt asked, brow furrowing.

"Yeah," she said, entering the Great Hall and walking down the aisle to a seat, "kind of like sending an Owl, but without the Owl."

"So, post?" Albus asked.

Hope smiled. "That is still someone carrying a message to someone else. Texting is instantaneous. Muggles didn't invent it until the late 1990s. Maybe the year 2000. Somewhere around then," she sat down, biting her lip as they leaned closer to listen with intense curiosity, "they use the satellites in orbit. The cellphone reads the signal, and the messages you type into it can be sent to anyone with a cellphone. They're able to read the message immediately."

"How far of a distance can it be read?" Newt asked, picking up his fork.

"Anywhere," Hope shrugged, "if I had a cellphone right now and sent a message to…Queenie. She'd get it as soon as I sent it and be able to send one immediately back."

Albus blinked in slight surprise.

Apparently, Muggles being able to accomplish something like that was unexpected, to say the least.

"Well," Albus started answering her question with a nod, "to answer your question about why Wizards don't use Muggle inventions. Sometimes we do. Brooms were invented by a Muggle, but we enchant them to make them our own. As for technology, it doesn't work the way it should around here. Radios, for example," he nodded, taking a bite of a baked potato, "one resides in the Muggle Studies room, and it won't turn on no matter who tries to work it. The Magic at Hogwarts is simply too strong and interferes with many of the technological inventions of the Muggles. I imagine many households with Wizards using a lot of Magic have the same problem. Too much Magic in the air will prevent those things from working properly."

Hope nodded, biting into a green bean. "That makes sense."

"So," Newt started, "Muggle inventions seem to get more…complicated?"

She nodded with a smile. "Much more complicated. AI…Artificial Intelligence. That's the thing, too- while the technology is amazing, like research in the medical field to extend life and heal ailments, there's always a catch." She smiled softly. "Technology for Muggles is a savior while also a demon. 

There's a saying that all Magic comes with a price, and it's true, for my kind anyway. You can't take something without giving up something else. Whether it's a physical object or energy. It doesn't matter; nothing comes from nothing. The same applies to Muggles and the technology they eventually wield. Everything, no matter who you are, comes with a price."

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It was late.

Far later than Hope had anticipated staying up, but once she had begun reading the book, she couldn't stop. It had been long since she'd read for pleasure, and she wasn't about to stop now.

It was one o'clock, or so the chime told her, when the nearby clock tolled. She'd holed herself up in the library, finding comfort in the expanses of shelving and worn leather. It almost reminded her of being inside the Boarding House.

She had told Newt and Albus she'd spend time reading in the library after dinner. They hadn't any qualms about it, and she had sneaking suspicions they had plans for each other in the study.

Some very personal plans.

The thought made her smile as she turned another leaf in her book. Her wool sock-covered feet dangled over the edge of the chaise she lounged on in front of the massive window, looking out over the grounds. A gray knitted blanket lay draped across her as she read by firelight, smiling as the two lovers in her book finally found each other.

Such a lovely premise.

To live happily ever after.

With blurred vision, Hope slowly closed the now-finished book and swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. To think- this was her happy ending. Being here, with Albus and Newt. Sharing their love and lives together under one roof.

She could stay like this forever.

Dreamily, she leaned back and gazed out the window into the night.

Strange, she thought, kicking her feet a little as she watched fog rise into the sky. Blocking out the stars and moon's light. Her brow furrowed as she focused on the fog, eyes trailing down until it landed on the cause of it.

A faded orange glow was in the distance, far past where Hogsmeade sat. Here, from where she lay, it looked almost peaceful. Hope knew, however, that it was anything but.

Sitting up straighter, her heart skipped a beat as the glow grew brighter. Furrowing her brows, her instincts screamed at her. She knew what this was. The only thing it could be.

Something was on fire.

The orange glow pulsed brighter, sending more foggy smoke into the sky. She knew what resided in the direction of the glow.

"No…" Hope murmured before suddenly staggering to her feet. She yanked the black shawl she'd worn at dinner and tugged it on while haphazardly stuffing her feet into the shoes. Hope didn't think beyond the panic she felt; she just acted.

Lunging forward, she threw open the window, and with quick-sure movements, she scaled the castle's side until she got to a point where she could jump.

Hope rolled to the ground, taking the harsh landing with grace before bolting at her full speed sprint toward the location she worried for most.

Alice's Bakery.

Listening only to instinct, Hope didn't stop for a moment. Not even to catch her labored breath. A few moments later, dashing through the forest's obstacles, she crashed out of the thicket separating the bakery and the wilderness.

"No…" Hope wheezed with wide eyes, taking the scene in.

Alice's bakery and the surrounding area had been caught in a hellish scape of fire and heat. Fallen tree limbs created hissing barriers between herself and the bakery that had already gone up entirely in smoke and flame.

"ALICE!" Hope screeched, jumping over the log and through bits of discarded torched debris. Finding herself in the thick of the roar, the sudden inability to breathe sent Hope's pulse into a frenzy. She took in a scorched breath and coughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve as she looked up to look into the window, but it was too smudged with black to see past her own reflection.

Bracing herself, Hope sprinted forward, slamming into the front door. It splintered away, revealing the inside was near pitch-black. The fire must have started at the bakery.

"ALICE!" Hope coughed, scrounging around blindly through the thick smoke. Her hands were in front of her, which was good because she suddenly tumbled forward after walking into something solid. Her hands caught her before her face could smash the ground. "Alice!" Hope coughed, grabbing what she assumed were her shoulders. Taking hold of under her arms, she pulled, walking backward towards where her instincts beckoned her.

When her sighted vision failed, her instinctual sight prevailed.

Coughing harshly, Hope continued to drag Alice's limp body out of the smoke-filled house and into the grassy area just in front of the bakery.

Hope wanted to spit out the taste of smoke from her mouth, but it seemed she had no saliva left to do so. She leaned over Alice's soot-stained body and shook her shoulders. Her plump face was red and covered in horrific open-sore blisters. Hope could feel the heat coming off her skin. Could smell her flesh burning even now.

"Alice!" Hope screeched again, shaking her shoulders harshly.

Alice's eyes opened, stark white in a blaze of darkness. They stared past her as if not seeing. 

"Hope?" Her voice croaked, barely audible above the fire's wrath. "Hope…" she coughed.

"It's me! I need to put out the fire!" Hope screamed, but Alice wrapped a hand around her wrist as she started to stand.

Looking down at her, her milky eyes now stared directly through her.

"The Poachers."

A different fire ignited in Hope's chest as an involuntary growl ripped up her chest. 

The Poachers.

Of course, it was them. 

Focus, Hope, She thought to herself, put out the fire first.

Hope kneeled on the ground and dug her fingers into the earth. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she recited an incantation.

"Ex Spiritum In Tacullum, En Terrum Incendium, Phasmatos Salves A Distum."

As Hope spoke, the fire slowly dwindled. The heat died down until nothing, but the sizzling aftermath remained. 

Taking in a deep, burning breath, Hope opened her eyes and looked around.

"Alice, it's gone," Hope sighed, smiling a little in relief as she looked around, seeing every flame had been extinguished, "Alice it…" she glanced her way and froze. 

Alice, who once held such spirit and joy of life in her eyes, now stared vacantly up at the night sky. Hope remained still, holding her breath as Alice's chest remained still. 

Her heart was silent.

Fresh tears rolled down Hope's ashy cheeks, her hair whipping haphazardly as a storm began to brew. 

A storm in the sky…as well as in herself.

Alice, someone undeserving of any punishment as this, was now dead because of them. The Poachers. The same people who had stolen years of Hope's own life and would continue to do so as long as their memories haunted her.

"They will die, Alice," Hope murmured, voice quivering as her lip trembled, "I give you my word."

Time was a luxury Hope didn't have.

She didn't have time to bury her friend; she didn't have time to mourn her loss.

The hunt started now.

Hope's eyes began to shift into a golden hue as she leaned over Alice and carefully moved her hand to her face, closing her unseeing eyes before standing to her feet. 

Wherever they were, they couldn't be too far. The extent of the damage of the blaze hadn't gone past a collection of shrubbery separating the building from the woodland. 

It would have also started consuming the forest if it had been longer. With Alice's Bakery being so far off from others, it would have been a while for anyone to notice so late at night.

Hope walked the perimeter of charred damage, stopping only when she caught the scent of something that didn't match the fire smolder or the creatures that had inhabited the place prior. Hope kneeled to the ground, narrowing her eyes and touching her fingertips along the indent of a footprint. 

Latching onto the scent and following the tracks of human prints, she took off in that direction. Passing over loose stones and low-hanging branches, ignoring animals that scurried out of her way as she ripped past in a frenzy. Only one thing on her mind.

Revenge.

Hope heard them before she saw them. Ahead in a clearing, calloused laughter and clinking bottles could be heard. Their voices came in clearer the closer she got.

"Did you see her face!" A Poacher chortled.

"Aye!" Another laughed with him. "Best thing I've seen all month. Too bad that visitor of hers hadn't stopped by."

Hope stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed as she extended her hearing.

"Not to worry, mates, we'll get that one in time."

"Once a beast, always a beast."

Hope inched closer, staring at the men through the cover of the woods. Watching as they sat around the fire, drinking their mead and laughing. There were seven of them.

Seven would do.

For now.

"Yeah, but it's guarded by Hogwarts and that Headmaster of theirs. Dumbledore- old git. We can't get our hands on it til he's out the way."

Hope turned slowly, the sound of a heartbeat behind her, and was met with the malicious grin of a Poacher.

Make that eight, Hope thought.

"I don't think we have to wait for that…" the Poacher in front of her called to them. "You were right, Angus. Fire drawed the thing out."

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as the Poachers around the fire began to stand. Walking toward the hidden space she'd been in. Gathering their wands from their coat pockets as they went.

"That right?" One with a shaved head and lengthy scar along his left eye murmured darkly, his good eye flashing with an excitement Hope knew too well.

Blood lust.

Panic did not set inside of Hope. Her pulse didn't quiver, and her stomach didn't clench. Instead, she turned her gaze back onto the Poacher, who had found her eavesdropping spot.

"Did you kill Alice?" She asked, voice soft. Calm.

Bleating laughter filled the air, and the Poacher in front of her snorted. "Ah, you should have heard the screams, love…"

Hope's eyes flashed, and though her eyes were golden, she saw nothing but red. Gazing at the laughing Poacher, she drowned out all other sounds, a buzzing filling her ears and mind as she imagined his exquisite pain.

That same Poacher, laughing one instant, was falling to his knees the next.

Still, Hope gazed down at him, focusing on the blood inside of him. Forcing the blood that coursed through his veins to increase in temperature.

The Poacher wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he began to pant, looking up at her with angry desperation.

"What are you doing!" He shouted, raising his wand, but the moment he did, his hand contorted at an unnatural angle, forcing him to drop the wand and clutch it to his chest. He cried out as his skin began to melt. As if he were a wax doll set too close to a fire.

"What am I doing?" Hope asked, ignoring the other Poacher Wizards staring in disbelief. "I'm listening to your screams…" She whispered as she continued to raise his temperature.

The Poacher did scream. Until the horrific end, where he collapsed motionlessly, his body reverted to a puddle of melted flesh. The sickly odor of it was enough to bring long-eaten lunch back up.

The flashes of green were coming at Hope from all directions. Falling to her back, she pushed out her hands with enough force, and the power it unleashed leveled the trees around them. 

Rendering the clearing into a perfect circle.

While lying on her back, Hope gazed at the sky and spoke as the wind howled, "Phasmatos veras nos ex malom. Terra mora vantis quo incandis per vasa quo errum signos."

"What the hell is she sayin!" A Poacher screamed out.

One moment, Hope was on her back; the next, she was on four padded paws.

The wolf inside tore through, eager to sink its teeth into flesh and bone. What came next was a gruesome event. She chased each Poacher through the clearing, tearing through their ligaments and separating their limbs from their bodies one by one.

The spell she'd cast had created a barrier around the clearing, forcing everything inside to be trapped. Hope took her time, knowing she wouldn't lose any of her prey. 

Stalk.

Attack.

Repeat.

The last man, so afraid, relieved himself before she could lick her maw in his direction. It was that fear that empowered her. This power was different from the one she'd felt this morning.

When she'd healed the Niffler, she'd felt a surge of power, but it had been light.

It had been good.

This power, the one she wielded now, was the opposite. It was pure darkness and icy slashes to the soul...and she relished in it.

Dashing forward, she landed on top of him, and through his screams, she latched her jaw around his thrashing head and twisted. His head came off with a pop before she tossed it aside to, then, devour him.

He was unrecognizable from the waist up. Nothing more than a bloody pulp of exposed muscle and gnawed bone.

Dawn was approaching faster than Hope had realized. She stood now, naked and soaked in blood, in the center of the clearing. Her gaze cut through the aftermath of what she'd done. The slaughter that had taken place that night.

She smiled.

Albus gazed out from the upper balcony from his study, sipping his morning tea as he recalled last night and the many moments he and Newt had shared in their time alone. Though, as he watched the countryside shift from night to day, he frowned as lightning struck down from the clear, lavender-pink sky. 

Then another, and another.

Eight strikes in quick succession fell down to earth in resounding, hissing cracks on that one spot in the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he focused, watching and waiting.

No more strikes came, but the smoke that filled the air above sent a silent shiver down his spine.

Albus didn't know what had caused the unnatural lightning occurrence. While he'd be venturing forward to uncover the truth in other circumstances, something kept him back. Strange as it was, his curiosity was stunted. A rare occurrence. 

So he simply watched the smoke in the air, listened to his instincts, and took another sip of his tea.

The cup trembling between his fingers.