Reading the same story in Finnish and English back to back is fascinating. The Finnish words have more flow and melody, where the English words are more matter of fact and feel weightier.*
I think that could explain why I go for "pretty words and sentence structure" while writing in English, I'm not a "literary style" writer. I'm just writing in a mix of Finnish and English style.
*languages are deeply personal, especially the ones one grows up with. My experience won't be be the same as another Finns.
**I learned to comprehend spoken English at age 4-6 years and studied writing/reading voluntary English from 3rd grade onward.
Inspired by the Kenobi Series (2022) and Room (2015)
The one where Anakin fell... pregnant the same way his mother did before him: because it was the will of the Force, and he only became Vader and joined Sidious to protect his children. His best-kept secret.
Except 10 years into their secluded life aboard their quarter on the Executor, Vader is presumed dead and Leia and Luke find themselves on a strange planet, hiding from their Ani’s Master...
Summary: Jae Kim and Annie Thorn make a final rescue before the battle.
⚠️Warning: Violence and torture. ⚠️
Chapter index - previous chapter (Jacob Thorn)- next chapter (MC - Annie Thorn)
A/N: I couldn't find any image corresponding to what I wanted. So, I take advantage of this chapter to share one of my headcanon: Jae's patronus.
"Foxes are cunning, resourceful and fiercely intelligent. [...] Foxes are also highly adaptable and can live in many diverse habitats around the world. If deep down you’re channelling the fox, you’ll likely have resilience in spades." (Extract from Wizarding world)
I always thought it fit him like a glove. 😊
Determined, Jae Kim walks through the gloomy forest surrounding Snyde Manor. The hasty departure of wildlife fleeing the human approach echoes in the night, lit by a gibbous moon. The tension of his silent companion is tangible. Annie disapproves of this meeting place. The risk of ambush is too great. This is precisely why no one else could have accompanied him.
After Voldemort’s rise, Jae used his smuggling routes to ex filtrate Muggleborns and other Death Eaters targets, and Annie used her duties to cover them up by leading their pursuers on false leads. Thus, Chiara, their werewolf friend who deserted her pack that had fallen under Greyback’s domination, could take refuge in France. Diego too.
Annie is an Auror. Jae is a smuggler cook. They are not on the same side of the Galleon. Yet, they have always helped each other. He contributed to the success of her missions by providing her with information; she saved him from Azkaban or from his rivals. They are friends, partners, and they have been lovers for a long time. Their relationship has always been one of total trust and non-judgment, and since their teenage years, their respective solitudes have met every time they were single. They can’t love each other, so they gave each other pleasure. It’s better than nothing.
For several months, another woman occupies Jae’s thoughts. Always present to concoct the potions needed for certain negotiations or to repair the side effects of a few dubious transactions, she has supported him in most of his undertakings. Her solar beauty, her gossip and her kindness won over his heart, which Jae had long thought closed to all the other women who were not Annie. Alas! Penny Haywood was brutally torn away from him before he could confess his feelings.
But after weeks of investigation and negotiation, Jae is going to get her out of this Hell. The last evacuation before chaos and war.
Nobody at the meeting point, a clearing with a rune stone. Annie's spirit slips through his mental defences to comfort him, but through her legilimency, he also detects her anxiety.
Suddenly, a veil seems to be torn away to reveal a witch flanked by two people huddled together. Jae stiffens. This is not what they have planned. They are two. The witch pulls her hood over her shoulders and steps aside to expose her prisoners. Penny and… Jacob?
Merula’s vanity feeds on power, and money is an excellent source of it. So, the smuggler throws a well-filled purse at her. She weighs it and with a look allows Penny to join him. He takes her hand in his, trying to convey all the affection that no words can describe. Her chapped lips draw a tired smile, but full of promise. Then Merula unlocks Jacob’s handcuffs and pushes him unceremoniously toward his sister, stunned. He is in an awful state.
“Get him out of here!”
Jacob rushes to Annie, snatches her wand from her hands, and turns it on his jailer.
“Traitor!”
The air becomes electric as the two enemies stare at each other as if the world no longer exists. Jae shudders, fearing the worst, blood pulsing in his ears. He stands in front of Penny and probes the Auror, undecided.
“Crucio!” Jacob’s voice has the hardness of a block of ice.
With a blood-curdling howl, Merula falls to her knees under the power of the terrible curse as Annie throws herself on top of her brother to stop this madness.
“Stupefy!” shouts Jae.
The prisoner collapses. Merula pushes Annie away, who wants to help her. “Get out!”
She stands up and walks towards the fainting mage. The witch bursts into a sinister laugh, her amethyst eyes full of painful madness. She curtsies mockingly. “I bow low... Me, I would never have succeeded in using this magic against you!”
With a sneer of bitterness, Merula turns on her heels. “You have fifteen minutes to leave my property!”
Annie pours the essence of dittany to heal Jacob's raw wounds–the rest will wait. Then Jae wakes him with a spell. “Renervate,”
The quartet leaves the premises without a word. First on foot, then by teleporting to the shore where a Portkey awaits them.
“This book will take you to Deauville. Chiara and Diego are waiting for you there,” says Jae to Penny.
Her emaciated face and bleary eyes knot his stomach. She looks so vulnerable in her rags, barely concealed by that cape. He feels like he’s leaving a puppy by the side of the road and hoping it will survive. Doubt and guilt assail him like stakes in the abdomen. Jae Kim never thought he would be torn between the two women in his life.
“And you? What will you do?”
“I’ve got stuff to sort out,” Jacob scolds before disappearing, giving no one time to protest.
As usual, Jae sees Annie break down under her brother’s apparent indifference.
“We’ll fight at Hogwarts,” he says.
Annie places a hand on the smuggler’s shoulder. “Go with her... You’ve done enough,”
“That’s not our plan,”
Annie’s eyes get cloudy. “That’s my plan... Petrificus Totalus!”
“Why?”
The two friends accompany him to the ground, stiff as a board. Annie kisses the corner of his lips. A soft, wet imitation of their first kiss in the Hogwarts kitchens, the one he won after a bet.
Her answer resonates in his mind as she pulls herself together. “You know damn well why,”
Petrified, Jae wants to protest!
“Take care of each other!” orders Annie, placing a Portkey and a bag full of gold in Jae’s immobile arms. “In case of defeat, never come back!”
In tears, Penny briefly hugs the Auror. “Be careful,”
Helplessly, Jae endures the whirlwind of a journey in the arms of the one he loves while his mind focuses on his lifelong partner.
⚠️Warning: captivity, violence, torture mentioned, swear word. ⚠️
Chapter index – previous chapter (Tulip Karasu) – next chapter (Jae Kim)
Locked in the cold, damp basement of a mansion of which he knows every corner, Jacob broods over the dark thoughts of a betrayed man. In the light coming through a window well, he observes the bruises on his skin, and his raw wounds, the result of endless torture. Spells have made the bones in his legs disappear, potions have made them grow back in abominable pain. Water bubbles enveloped his head in a simulated drowning. His body was burned and thrown against the pillars of the interrogation room.
Retaliation for his actions, but also a way to make him hand over his accomplices, to make him confess his objectives, what he knows and the informations he has passed on and to whom…
For whom did Jacob keep silent?
Was it loyalty to Dumbledore, who asked him to infiltrate the Death Eaters to get at the heart of the enemy? He is dead. And so are his only friends.
For Snape, who suggested he eliminate Nagini, Voldemort’s loyal snake, using the Fiendfyre? Jacob dislikes this double agent whose true loyalties he can’t figure out.
To be on the side of good? Jacob has navigated so many murky waters he doesn’t even believe it anymore.
For Annie? His little sister is doing just fine without him and has proven it time and time again.
For his mother? He has long since stopped expecting her to be proud of him.
So for whom? For whom did he keep silent? Whether or not he talks, he’ll end up dead here!
A door creaks and Jacob stands up. Will he be tortured again? His jailer walks up to his cell and watches him silently, entrenched behind her mask. Jacob’s face twists with pain and rage as he recognises the figure of his visitor, his torturer... and the executioner of his heart.
This witch whose stubbornness, pride and cunning he has come to appreciate. She has several labels in Jacob’s eyes: self-proclaimed rival of his sister, discreet accomplice to his infiltration by facilitating his search for information without denouncing him, passionate lover and finally...
“Traitor!”
“I had no choice.”
Jacob signs his contempt with a spit. “Traitor!”
“Why did you target Nagini?” she says, removing the mask concealing her face.
Jacob’s gaze defies irises the intense colour of an amethyst. Why kill Nagini? Because it is the only being in the world that Voldemort seems to have any kind of attachment to, and Snape claims the snake holds a piece of Voldemort’s soul. Therefore, killing the reptile is a condition for the annihilation of You-Know-Who. The wizard would rather die than tell her!
“You'll regret stopping me,” he says, clutching the rusty bars of his cell. “Why did you do that? I thought we were on the same side, Merula. What the fuck has changed?”
The lock mechanism suddenly activates and opens the door of his prison with a sinister creak. Then a pair of handcuffs materialises around his wrists. As soon as he takes his first step outside, Merula tightens the handcuffs.
“Follow me!”
Her voice snaps like a whip. Jacob follows the witch to another dungeon where she asks the prisoner wrapped in a warm cloak, her own, to follow her as well. Despite the dirt and her hunched back, he easily recognises this other prisoner. Penny Haywood. She must be the potionist plucked from her home to concoct countless cauldrons of Wolfbane potion that he has vaguely heard of. She is so weak that their jailer does not even bother to handcuff her.
They walk through tunnels lit by the few torches that light up as they pass, and Merula coldly informs them that all forces have converged on Hogwarts to confront each other.Suspicious, Jacob moves forward with cautious steps. Will they be killed? No, if Voldemort wins, he will still need Penny. Will they be moved somewhere else, where no one is likely to find them?
A shiver ran down his spine. With a shy smile, Penny wraps her arm around his bare shoulders to share the warmth of her cloak. Her kindness touches him all the more because he no longer expects anything from anyone, and for a second, Jacob considers playing the hero for this girl. She’s a good friend of his little sister. That would be at least two people to put flowers on his grave. But then he changes his mind. Who knows what traps are lurking in this labyrinth that Merula moves through so effortlessly?
“Traitor, traitor, traitor,” he mumbles like a mantra.
It is difficult to perceive the distance travelled or their direction in this monotonous environment with no landmarks to rely on. The darkness clouds his senses. Without wanting to, he lets himself be intoxicated by the feminine perfume that warms his skin... and despite himself, his heart.
Love and the desire for revenge tear him apart.
Merula is his little bird... but she’s also a fucking traitor!
Summary: After a delicate question from Jae, Diego remembers his last duel.
Rating: T+
⚠️ Warning⚠️: Canon-typical violence, death.
Chapter index - previous chapter (MC)- next chapter (Poppy Pomfrey)
A/N: At the time I wrote this (March 2021), Diego was portrayed very superficially in the game, the connection between the dance and the duel was unclear and I didn't like him very much (it's improved a bit since then). And yet, the chapter dedicated to him is one of my favourites in this series. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
“How did it feel?” says Jae as he lights a cigarette, lying on a deck chair facing the English Channel, shimmering under the moon. Inside the house, Chiara examines Penny, very weakened by months of deprivation and servitude.
Sitting on the ground, Diego dives into his memories, his eyes riveted on the sand that he lets slip through his fingers.
Triumphant Diego Caplan greets the jubilant crowd who chants his name and applauds his victory. The stronger the opponents, the better the show, the greater the glory of the winner, so Diego feels deep gratitude for the worthy duelists. They are partners who contribute to his legend. Caplan keeps his English championship crown and complacently poses for the front page of the Daily Prophet. A myriad of flashbulbs crackle. He runs a hand through his dark hair and gives a dazzling smile to the photographers... The hysterical audience shouts his name and reaches out to touch him. Diego savours this moment of glory, preceding another evening of unbridled sex washed down with champagne.
Suddenly, crazy shadows eclipse the lights of the arena. They move around, enveloping the crowd and blowing a wind of panic before spreading out along the walls. In an instant, death eaters block all the exits and one of them materializes, alone, in the arena. A mask preserves his anonymity. The only visible piece of flesh in a dark mass of loose clothing, a large hand clutches a fir wood wand. A tough, determined and intimidating character.
Diego’s smile fades. The wizard had expected this. They had warned him that this would happen. Diego Caplan’s resounding success has upset Voldemort and his followers. He represents everything that these supremacists abhor. He is a half-blood who fraternises with everyone, regardless of their extraction. That such a wretch should have the impudence to dominate such a demanding discipline of witchcraft is an affront to all purebloods! They cannot tolerate it. The champion has become a target to be slaughtered on the altar of their noxious propaganda.
In a sharp voice, the stranger demands a duel without delay, notwithstanding the fatigue of a man coming out of a confrontation. Completely disloyal, but any negotiation is futile. So the champion accepts the challenge of this challenger, whose malice vitiates the air like a poison. Then Diego focuses on his opponent. The world no longer exists. In his ear, his heartbeats the measure of the eternal refrain of his life, and his whole body prepares to dance.
The two wizards greet each other.
The duel is a subtle dance where you have to impose your rhythm on your opponent, so Diego takes the initiative. Both men use their magic. Attack, dodge, riposte, protection, feint, offensive, parry.
Usually, each movement improvises a complex choreography where the fighters become artists. Dance of life. Terrible as it may be, no one can deny the grace of a confrontation between two valiant and self-respecting fighters.
But there is no beauty in this raging dance, oozing hatred and contempt. Diego struggles to read the sequences of his opponent, whose wand whips through the air, casting spell after spell. Merciless. Disturbed by this outpouring of hatred which is foreign to him, Diego Caplan loses his rhythm. A misstep threatens.
The most unforgivable of spells is cast. The sorcerer nimbly dodges the impossible to parry spell. With horror, Diego sees in a morbid slow motion, the green lightning strikes a woman who falls dead, her face frozen in an eternal expression of fear. Dumbfounded, he becomes deaf to the terror of the audience taken hostage.
Then Diego understands. This is not a duel, a dance, or even a show of strength. It is an execution.
A shudder runs through him as his brown eyes take in the assembly of tense, tearful, trembling, or emotionless faces. One dodge and one of them will fall. The sorcerer resigns himself to the last will.
To look his first and last enemy straight in the eye.
The champion discovers the hard face of a fifty-year-old with a murderous aura, as inflexible as his wand. An emerald gaze devoid of pity pierces him.
What will the world remember about Diego Caplan? As an example of Pureblood superiority? Or a martyr who will exalt the spirit of those who oppose You-Know-Who? A final thought flies to his loved ones.
The fir wand moves without trembling, faster than the blink of an eye, while something inside him rises like a powerful and devastating groundswell. The rage to live. The man is lively. A privilege of youth, Diego is more so.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Death is a demanding dance partner who does not easily accept to be led. But Diego Caplan is a particularly skilled dancer.
The spell strikes in the chest. The enemy collapses. After a moment of stupefaction, when the entire room tries to understand, comes chaos. The ceiling of the arena collapses with a bang. Spells fly everywhere, shrill cries are heard, and wizards flee. Taking advantage of the confusion, Talbott Winger, Auror and Voldemort's opponent, grabs his arm and drags him out of the arena to teleport them to safety.
Then, under the aegis of Annie and Jae, he joins Chiara in France. The lycanthrope needs a benevolent guardian during the full moon and he needs the balm of a kind-hearted friend. It is an obvious choice to bring these two exiles together.
“Well, Diego? How did it feel to kill someone?”
Diego returns to the present time and watches the smuggler make smoke rings with his mouth. Jae keeps his thoughts to himself, but he is afraid for Annie, who evacuated him against his will to save him. He fears she will be scarred forever by war and Death. Diego understands all this better than anyone, but his friend doesn't need to know everything.
After a few months, he can say without lying. “It doesn’t matter, since in the end necessity has erased everything.”
Jae frowns, puzzled. “Even if it was Barnaby’s father?”
Summary: An impromptu visit interrupts Annie's final preparations before the battle.
⚠️Warning: Alcohol use. ⚠️
Chapter index - previous chapter (Jae Kim) - next chapter (Diego Caplan)
Alone.
Her boyfriend is safe in Ireland. She sent her partner to France, and her brother has abandoned her... Again.
Annie checks her equipment and buckles her bag. Through the window, her gaze wanders over an indistinct horizon in the night. Indistinct. Like her future.
When was the last time she asked herself what would become of her?
The answer that comes to her clenches her heart. It was at the beginning of her Auror training, after she had known passion. The one that consumes you until you leave only a heart in ashes.
The witch had to rebuild it, piece by piece. During this time, Annie and Jae were everything to each other. In turn, partners, lovers, friends, a bit of all of this at the same time and so much more... He has always been there, never letting her storms and shipwrecks push him away, and for seven years, they experienced everything together.
Jae deserves to be happy, to embrace a companion more joyful than loneliness. That’s why Annie did everything she could to ensure him a bright future with Penny, regardless of the outcome of the Battle.
Her mind drifts to Sam, her boyfriend whom she learned to love deeply after having given in to his advances out of spite. When she asked him to leave England because she could not fight without being sure of his safety, he obeyed without complaining about being left out. Because he believes in her, and that confidence is worth its weight in gold.
After the war, maybe she could talk about marriage... By making sure that the idea comes from him, of course!
“I miss you,”
But not as much as Jacob. They haven’t seen each other for months and he’s already disappeared. As usual. He disappears, she looks for him; they find each other and he runs off into the unknown. Oh, never for the sake of hurting her. A goal always justifies his actions. A goal more noble and ambitious than staying by her side. Always. She exhales her tension with a sigh and pours herself a glass of Firewhisky, which she drinks in one gulp, alcohol burning her bitterness.
She’ll kick his ass when they win.
The witch clenches her fists. Projecting herself into the future will strengthen her resolve to survive in a succession of battles where every wizard who falls under her spells will ensure her survival and everyone else’s. She hopes not to have to fight Barnaby or Ismelda.
A cracking sound startles her. She turns around, drawing her wand and putting it away. It’s Jacob. A shower and clean clothes, and he is back at his best. Only his face keeps the watermark of the last ordeal he endured.
“I haven’t been here for a long time...” he says, his eyes staring disapprovingly at the couch that moved here along with Sam. Jacob never liked him.
“Yeah!” Annie confirms, her voice heavy with reproach.
“Pip... It was too risky. I was undercover!”
Annie has a small incredulous laugh.
“I didn’t see an undercover wizard. I saw a guy we had to get out of a jam! That said, it’s becoming a habit...”
“Your nerves are on edge! Don’t take it out on me, Pip!” he says in a tone that commands respect.
The witch winces. He is right. This is not the time for a brotherly joust. She pours two glasses of Firewhisky and they toast to a ceasefire.
“So you and Merula... Since when?”
“Never mind, it’s over... She betrayed me, tortured... I hate her!”
It is rare for Annie to see Jacob bare his soul. The years of separation because of the cursed vaults have seriously marred their complicity. They tried to find it before they realized that time lost could not be made up for.
Unconsciously, Jacob had wanted to pick up where he left off. But during his absence, the little girl who saw him as a hero had given way to an accomplished witch, an adult before her time. Disillusionment, bitterness… Guilt.
“I bet she didn’t use the Cruciatus Curse?”
A stubborn silence answers.
“She said she would never have succeeded in using that magic against you... Probably because you have to enjoy the suffering of your victim to cast it,” Annie says with a falsely innocent look.
“Stop it! You’re not Mum!”
“She would tell you to listen to me!”
“Of course! You’re the heroine! Me, I’ve gone from child prodigy to the poor, undesirable bastard who is constantly reminded that he was saved by his little sister!”
The lack of recognition and the inability to forget that their parents did not look for him, or so little, after his disappearance in the cursed vaults, eat away at Jacob’s insides like acid. Bruised by these years of absence, Annie’s heart tightens. She remembers all too well the time when the world treated them as outcasts, and when their mother took calming potions to overcome each day without her son, one after the other, so much the pain of having lost him was a torment. As for Dad... Whatever! Nothing was the same after Jacob’s disappearance. Her brother can’t understand.
“They tried to turn the page,” Jacob says, sipping his drink. “it’s a lot easier to do it over a dead body than over a ‘missing’ person who might turn up at any moment! So they did nothing, while turning a blind eye to your research out of cowardice. You were a child! Do you think that’s normal?”
Jacob’s gaze pierces her, so sharp is it. Annie shrugs.
“The question never arose... I looked for you because it was the only thing I could do. Point... Don’t blame anyone for my own choices,”
An impulse pushes her to hug him. This may be the last time, after all.
“And stop blaming yourself too,” she says as he hugs her tightly. “You can’t spend your life blaming yourself for mistakes you made trying to protect me, my brother.”
Summary: Tulip Karasu and Charlie Weasley are caught by Death Eaters in Hogsmeade.
Chapter Index - previous chapter (Badeea Ali) - next chapter (Jacob Thorn)
Surprised in Hogsmeade by a patrol of Death Eaters reeking of rotten flobberworms, Charlie and Tulip defend themselves as best they can against an enemy that outnumbers them. A rain of curses rains down on them without let-up. A wizard seasoned by his work with dragons, Charlie builds protective shields, slipping a counterattack at every opening.
Her black eyes bulging with terror, Tulip Karasu struggles to stand beside her comrade. The hand that holds her wand trembles, an icy sweat oozing from the pores of her skin. Panic grips her beating heart. She feels powerless. Worse, she is a liability to her friend, who is trying to protect her.
In her defence, Tulip is just a shopkeeper. She only came to provide some logistics and to convince others to fight. She did not foresee having to battle for her life after she completed her mission. For a moment, the witch considers surrendering, hoping for leniency from their enemies.
A killing curse pierces their magic shield, misses its target, and passes over her head. At that moment, Tulip realises that these are ruthless killers, without the slightest scruple. Her soul shudders at the Death that follows these sorcerers like a shadow. Her throat knots and her whole body stiffens. She also loses her breath, which, in retrospect, is not bad considering the stench they give off. But worst of all, her eyes water at her pitiful weakness.
So, while her friend gets all the attention of the Death Eaters, his wand spitting spells like an angry dragon unleashing fire, Tulip finds refuge behind a barrel in a cobbled alley, crossing the primary avenue of Hogsmeade.
The dark wizards have turned the village into a no-go zone for magical teleportation. For the time being, the duo must rely on their legs, skill, and nerve to get out before they disappear.
With excellent reflexes and exceptional physical condition, Charlie doesn’t let the numerical superiority get him down. However, at one against ten, his chances of getting out alive are very low. Running along a wall to avoid being caught off guard, he confronts the enemy with a coolness that compels admiration. It takes a lot of nerve to live among dragons, unpredictable and ferocious creatures.
Paralysed, Tulip can not help him. A shopkeeper in Trick or Treat doesn’t need to know how to fight. She doesn’t need to be as brave as Tonks, her best friend and a skilled Auror. She doesn’t have to be as oblivious as Kettelburn, who thinks he can stop an angry erumpent's charge by putting his hand in front of it or... fight off those pesky Death Eaters with a bucket of rotten flobberworms. True, fanged frisbees can decapitate the unwary customer. But they have no warlike intent, and an immobilisation spell is enough to neutralise them. Unlike these dark mages, thirsty for blood and tears.
“Psst.”
A hissing sound calls out to her. She turns her head left, right. Her panicked gaze turns behind her. A few feet away, a door has opened, revealing Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the “Three Broomsticks”. Hope springs up in her beating heart. Tulip could discreetly leave these Death Eaters infested places by the roofs? Thus, Tulip could survive!
Charlie continues to fight like hell, trying to move the combat zone to the exit of the village. There is no time to lose. Tulip can run away while he keeps them busy. It’s the perfect opportunity, in fact.
Tulip has always prided herself on breaking the rules, but today the redhead takes no pride in breaking the basic rules of friendship. But who cares about rules when it comes to survival?
So then, stealthier than a shadow and without another glance for the companion she reluctantly abandons, Tulip rushes through the breach that is offered to her.
“Forgive me, Charlie Weasley... We'll do better separately,”
