A Swift Return

1991 June

There was something to be said about the sanity of Hogwarts professors when they realised the summer holidays were approaching. The sick glee that coloured their faces would have been amusing had they not been holding stacks of homework in their hands. Alana could have sworn that the staff had all strategically timed their handouts so that they occurred at the same time. That time being straight after O.W.L.s - otherwise known as the Ordinary Wizarding Levels for those less acronymically inclined. The tests themselves were nothing worth mentioning really. Everyone felt they had at the very least passed the theory assessment, and it was a universally acknowledged fact that the O.W.L. practicals weren't all that difficult. N.E.W.T.s, on the other hand, were something else entirely.

Alana sighed from her perch on a stone window sill whilst contemplating the mysteries of the red tomato she held in her hands. To plant or not to plant, that was the question. Professor Sprout was insistent that the students grow their own vegetable plant over the holidays. The only problem was… she was rather hungry. She was experiencing what most would call a first world problem. The reason for her hunger? She was annoyed, and when she was annoyed, she became hungry. She glanced at the source of her annoyance. Never before had she experienced such profound hatred for a being in all her life. It was a small creature with tennis balls for eyes and mottled green skin. It's bulging throat collapsed in on itself with a shudder before exploding outwards in a mockery of an old man's dying breath. She absolutely rejected its presence beside her and all but incinerated the lump of shifting flesh with her glare. Alana truly, intimately and absolutely loathed toads.

"Ribbit…"

"Shut up, Steve."

"What did he ever do to you," Lucian Bole protectively held the object of Alana's ire close to his chest. A frown marred his strangely feminine features, and the witch narrowed her eyes.

"It is taking up valuable breathing air," She sniffed righteously. Steve ribbeted tauntingly from his owner's lap and visibly flinched as Alana bared her teeth in a menacing smile. "Did you know frog legs are a delicacy in France, Lucian?" The boy brushed off the suggestion of her sinister purr with the grace of a true aristocrat and wisely set his pet aside.

"One wonders why you took Care of Magical Creatures when you hate animals," he commented while fixing his posture. It was somewhat amusing to see the Slytherin check himself over as though a single hair out of place could destroy his family name. Then again, that could very well be true.

"I hate toads, I dislike household pets, but I have an extreme fondness for the obscure, obscene and potentially life-threatening. Magic should be studied first and foremost to protect oneself. Unfortunately, there are a number of creatures I would very much like to never encounter in this lifetime but will likely have the displeasure to considering my luck."

Lucian gave her a look at her dismissal of the most obvious perk of the subject. "The professor is funny as well."

"Obviously." She stated. Ding!

Notification: Evolution!

Healing System: Pisces III has evolved to Pisces IV! level 0 Magic focus increased x2 Dexterity increased x2 Precision increased x2 Cost of summoning decreased. New form processing…

Alana didn't even bother to glance at the notification screen having already deduced that new skills were only acquired after an evolution to level V. Pisces was a lot easier to level at Hogwarts but still noticeably more complicated, and she hoped the summon's evolution skill would make it worth the trouble. She bid her farewell to Lucian before making her way back to the Ravenclaw Dormitory. She had some potions essays to write if she wanted to get the chance to rope Leoen into helping her practice her skills with a sword. Not that it would take much convincing.

Creation: Capricorn V

Species: Library System

Level: 26

Capable of mind defence, complex thought and processing 18600 words per hour. New Skill: Legilimency (Active)

Creation: Aquarius IV

Species: Inventory System

Level: 36

Capable of storing 34 objects. Summoning cost decrease tripled.

Creation: Pisces IV

Species: Healing System

Level: 0

Magic focus increased x2 Dexterity increased x2 Precision increased x2 Cost of summoning decreased.

1991 July

Hogwarts wrapped up the year with its usual final feast. The event was marked by Slytherin winning the house cup yet again. Lucian was preening like a peacock the entire night while Headmaster Dumbledore forced a somewhat pained smile out of his wrinkled features. The other houses had a range of responses from annoyed scowls and respectful nods to determined glares. Alana found the entire situation humorous, even more so when two Weasley twins started hiccupping madly after having a sip of pumpkin juice. She felt rather juvenile retaliating with such a small prank, but Charlotte had scolded her for her initial idea to cover them in squid attractant and throw them in the Black lake. She was sure Evan (the giant squid) would have been most pleased with the meal. Such a shame. Nevertheless, it was with a satisfied smile that she returned to her London home, having successfully endured a year of magical education.

"Marcus… What are you doing?" Alana stood awkwardly in the doorway under the midday sun having slept in after the previous night's long train ride. The sight of Marcus stroking the piano affectionately had her rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Marcus glanced up at the child with an affronted expression.

"Can't you see we're having a moment!" He snapped and made a shooing motion in her direction. "Begone from my sight, foul peasant!" Alana sweat-dropped and decided not to question the sanity of her house-mate. If she did, she would probably have a mid-life crisis.

"Way down to Hadestown, way down under the ground," Alana hummed as she stole her way into Diagon Alley. The streets were obnoxiously bright in comparison to Knockturn and far more lively. There were vendors enthusiastically promoting their wares and customers entering and exiting to the tinkling of doors left and right. The atmosphere was considerably more energetic than usual as the summer holidays had just begun and many were eager to visit Britain's busiest shopping district. Dressed in a forest green jerkin and black, cotton pants, she had reluctantly tucked her cloak into the leather pack that hung from her shoulder. Her path led her to the towering doors of an ivory fortress. Above the doorway, large metal letters glinted in the sunlight reading 'Gringotts' for all those ignorant enough to not already know the building's name.

Goblin guards stood sentinel on either side of the open entry point. The bank was the closest most goblins would ever get to engaging with wand-users. The Ministry of Magic had 'graciously' granted the Goblins full, independent control over the bank and its lands in 1865. It was a peace offering after the catastrophe that was the Goblin Wars. Though, she doubted the Goblins held any illusion that the gift was not a request for the Wizarding and Goblin governments and worlds to split. Isolating their enemies as well as their possible allies until they needed to exploit them seemed to be a speciality of the Ministry of Magic. The Goblins were better off without wizards if she was honest. Alana allowed a cruel smirk to grace her features as she entered the building. Wizards and witches were temperamental but Goblins, Goblins were something she could work with.

"Good afternoon, Gavin. I've come to make a deposit into my account and purchase a few Alvarian ward stones should Gringotts currently be selling." Alana rocked up to the vaguely recognisable Goblin who scowled at her with a sharp-toothed mouth. He was a prickly fellow, but most Goblins were. His bright eyes snapped at her form with the permanent glare he seemed to have been blessed with.

"You're late, Miss Vincent." Alana quirked her lips in amusement as the goblin in the next counter over gave Gambrooke Gavin a look that screamed 'are you insane, why the hell are you socialising with this wastrel!' Gavin didn't even grace his coworker with a response and continued to glare at the witch before him expectantly. She had not missed her monthly deposit in her entire tenure as a criminal, so his reaction was justified. Although, it was strange as the Goblins rarely expressed any curiosity towards their clientele except when relieving them of their money. Gavin was not her account manager, and thus, he wouldn't have heard of the news of her change in circumstances.

"Unfortunately, I've been roped into the system. Hogwarts will likely continue to interrupt my work. I intend to make bulk deposits in my breaks instead. I would have informed you during Yule break, but I assume you were on leave as I couldn't find you." Alana could practically feel Gavin's coworker glaring holes into her skull. She considered reigning in her casual attitude but thought it a waste of energy. Gavin was one of the few Goblins who had taken such an honest approach to the young witch, and she was reluctant to discourage him in any way. It was nice to have a civil exchange without rude gestures being made at her. She wondered how the wizarding world would feel if they knew the frequent tapping of sharp Goblin fingernails on their desks was actually a type of morse code for the beings. They sent off small waves of magic when they tapped, a skill they also used to appraise materials.

It was very faint, but Pisces could pick up on it easily enough. Gavin had looked mildly concerned when she'd asked about it. As fate would have it, Goblins were incapable of lying, and he was straightforward enough to give her small figure an answer at the time. She hadn't been able to stop the laugh that left her lips at the time. Goblins were notoriously cunning, but she hadn't anticipated them to be insulting their clientele with morse code.

"Gimbrooke, mind your tongue." Goblin 'mood-breaker' finally broke and hissed at his colleague. What followed was a string of syllables in the Goblin-tongue from Gavin's mouth. The other's rough skin turned a concerning red then green before his jaw clamped shut. Alana appreciated the rare display of disharmony between two members of the Goblin race.

"I'll notify your account manager," Gavin gave Alana a curt nod before leaping off his stand. She glanced at the shaken Goblin Gavin had left behind. Visually, he looked unaffected, but she had learnt Goblin's expressed themselves mostly through eye movements, and the male had yet to bring his gaze up from the stone floor. She almost felt pity. Almost. She was a firm believer that one shouldn't dish out what they couldn't take in or start what they couldn't finish.

Sorting out her accounts was a tedious affair consisting of excessive amounts of paperwork and piles of contracts. Naturally, the consultation fees were also ridiculous. It was unfortunate that her manager was efficient, or she would have been able to complain. Alas, Gazeon Gavin was as skilled as his brother was sociable (relatively at least). It didn't make the hourly rate any less painful to pay. The ecstatic, sharp-toothed grin of Gazeon did not make her feel any better. Alana was ready to get a nights sleep or better yet, a stiff drink, by the time they were done.

She practically dragged herself to Harley's. It was not, perhaps, the wisest decision on her part but her mind was on other things. Namely, the sweet ambrosia the barmaid Willow would have waiting for her. She would deny any accusations of her drooling as she tossed a cloak over her figure. She passed a gaggle of hags on her way down and felt her eyes lighten in the nighttime shadows of the Alley. Whatever sentiment she held for the place seemed enough to rejuvenate a bit of her energy. There was a noticeable shift in persona; the further she progressed. One couldn't afford to be caught unawares in these parts.

The sounds of a brawl reached her ears as she reached the door to Harley's. She idly considered using the warding stones she'd purchased to set up a silencing ward for the building. A frown tugged at her features, but it was masked by Sparrow's usual mask. Pushing the door open gently, she took a few steps inside to examine the room. A table was in shambles a few feet away from the entrance, and a great many patrons had twisted their heads to view the newcomer. Those with common sense parted from the circle of spectators watching two forms attempting to mutilate each other on the floor. The silence was the most noticeable effect of her entrance, and it made the sound of growls and fists all the more noticeable.

Alana cast the dishevelled form of one Raymond an unamused look and dislodged the obviously drunk man from the male beneath him. She was thankfully strong enough to accomplish the feat with a single boot. A few of the species surrounding her shuddered at the display of strength from such a small figure. Most were of other magical species and had keen enough senses to realise that the girl was a witch. It was unnatural to have that level of physical strength along with magical skills when the later usually resulted in the deterioration of the former. The fear that accompanied that knowledge was slightly annoying, but she had a reputation to keep.

"Raymond… I hope you intend to pay for the furniture you broke," Alana measured her words. The man was attempting to stand, though clearly still tipsy.

"Is' nothin' Sparro'" Raymond slurred with a broad smile.

"Mendaxi, my dear friend. I do not take kindly to lies." The Latin words seemed to confuse the man further.

"Mendacium? Sparro' ya know I don't deal in those."

A groan sounded beneath the man, and Alana finally glanced at the body of the man Raymond had apparently assaulted. On the floor with a bleeding nose was a familiar face that she was not in the least bit pleased to see. Alana bit her lip at the intoxicated teen. Why was it that Jake Matthews turned up in the most inconvenient of places?

Latin terms

Mendacium - Lies, falsehood

Mendax - liar