Fortvania had a central zone where all vendors, markets and fireplaces to get in and out of region were available. Being in December with the kids back from Hogwarts, a Carnival set up its magical tent taking most of the zone. Bren and his two buddies were strolling down the road that connected most houses together. The boy's head still spun with the information he'd just gotten; he had never heard about a female werewolf before, how could the people in here be safe when they knew they had a sixteen years old werewolf living among them? It sounded pretty scary to him.
Before making it too deep into the zone, he saw Lucie Pope standing at one of the vendors with another girl. They were laughing and when her friend saw Bren, she elbowed Lucie who looked up, blushed and waved. Bren waved back.
Roly cleared his throat deliberately. "What?" Bren said moving his gaze to his friend on the right, "Is she dangerous too?"
"Not quite." Roly didn't move his eyes away from her, the girl was beautiful Bren knew that but that Odharnait's blondeness and posture made Lucie some kind of a fake doll.
"They're related, you know." Bob said, absently, staring at the huge tent ahead of them.
"Who?"
"Lucie and that werewolf girl. They're cousins," he had stopped to a Daily Prophet stand and was getting one.
Bren didn't know whether to nod at this piece of information being very reasonable due to the same shade of hair color to both girls, or shrug at the whole situation. He did the latter.
Roly was still stealing glances at her while Bob started searching the newpaper, "They're talking about the shadowy figure at the Lake from yesterday." He flipped through the page and from his angel Bren saw the article, a photo of a looming dark figure over the lake with a big bolded title overhead that said 'Demented camp or Demented joke?'
"What do they say?" Roly asked.
Bob paused, reading mutely then summarized, "Headmaster's crazy to sent a bunch of kids over to the lake with only one Professor... Bren's a hero for not running away and helping the Lucie girl... a secret source told them that it wasn't a dementor and most likely a practical joke."
Bren scoffed at that, "A practical joke? It was going to drown the girl." He snatched the Daily Prophet from his friend's hands and flattened it to read. But it wasn't the lame excuse that caught his attention, Bren had stopped walking and was looking into the small box at the bottom of the page. "What's this?" He demanded, hiding his anger.
Roly focused on Bren when he heard the tone, Bob leaned in a bit and replied simply, "It's a weekly article. One Hundred Years Before. Why?"
"I know it's an article but.." Bren read quietly.
It was titled; The Prince's Tale. It talked of Severus Snape's childhood, briefly, how he befriended the bad guys during Hogwarts to try and get to a control post, his awful real life pushing him toward the pit. How he sold his best friend's family and then took revenge from the boy who lived throughout his teaching at Hogwarts, how he played the two sides of the battle; spying for Dumbledore and pretending to be Voldy's right arm when in face he killed the former and was about to take over the latter.
That was when Bren stopped reading and shoved the newspaper into Bob's chest, "This is rubbish! Who writes this?"
Bob scowled, tucked the Daily Prophet under his armpit, "Professor Christian. He's been writing this colemn ever since I remember. Bren, don't start on your version of the story, please."
"How shouldn't I? When you throw all of Snape's efforts into the wasteland! When someon as crazy as your professor believes that Snape was a side on his own trying to overpower both sides! The next thing you'll hear that Potter didn't actually kill Voldemort, it was Draco who did it." Bren had rounded on his friends, talking intently but emotionally. Some people lingered to hear but walked away when history was the subject.
Roly rolled his eyes, "We never said Draco killed Voldemort. He didn't have the heart to hurt anyone." Bren wanted to punch his friend.. or faint right there.
He clenched his jaws and turned back toward the Carnival tent again, "Just don't bring this subject when I'm around again."
This region was seriously illusioned to believe the Malfoys were the heroes of the past and it bugged Bren to no end. His grandmother might be able to help him understand this. She was one of the famous Seers alive after all.
Later that day and while Bren was having dinner with his parents at the mansion they offered them earlier this year, his father nodded solemnly hearing his son's frustration, "I noticed." He said, putting the goblet of wine down, "I saw it the minute I was escorted to the Ministry. Posters were all over the place about the Malfoys and their great stand against evil and being blackmailed by the good. People here are sure about this."
"That's terrible." Midget, Bren's mother, put a hand on her chest in disbelief, "Why would they chance the story like this?"
Kal, Bren's father, seemed deep in thought before answering, "I don't think they changed it. If you look back, say like a hundred years ago, you'll see that the Malfoys were the ones to start building Fortvania and inviting pureblood wizards to move their mansions over there. It became a wide magical community with time. A rather isolated one too with everything available within the region." Kal motioned for the house-elf standing to the side to remove his plate as he leaned back against his chair, "Someone might've tweaked a little thing at the beginning. We all know that Narcissa did indeed save Potter in the forest for the sake of her son but someone might've added the blackmailing bit."
"It's an insult even to Narcissa!" Bren scoffed, "She did the right thing on her own accord but they deprived her from the goodness she had originally."
Kal nodded, drinking from his goblet, "Yeah. We should've never come here." Sipping and then sighing, "Once I finish this mission I have in the Ministry, we're back to New Zealand."
"No." A strong and determined voice came from across the dining hall where grandma Charisma stood with her cane, "Our job here isn't finished. It is not about detecting dark magic, either." She started turtle-walking toward the table, "I consulted my leaves and Inner Eye, we have a lot to do in here." The house-elf, Rita, moved the chair for the old lady to sit on.
Bren could see his mother fighting an eye roll, his father seemed to believe his mother very obediently.
"Have you heard about the underworld hole to the west of the region?" Charisma started, moving her wand to pour herself some food.
"No." Bren answered quickly.
"Yes. We have information of it. Few. Why?" His father seemed alerted.
The old lady talked neutrally as she cut the bacon, "How did a region with a few meters away from that hole to be living in peace and with no accidents whatsoever?" Her tone wasn't that of question rather than of inform. Nobody answered for a full minute.
"There has been an accident." Bren stuttered. All three pairs of eyes stared at him in shock. He went on, "I mean there is a rumor that years ago there had been werewolf attack... and someone.. got bitten."
Midget gasped silently and put a hand to her chest, her husband's face paled while Charisma seemed to realize something. "Who?" She asked, strongly.
"It's just a rumor. Roly told me about it but I'm starting to think it's a lie."
"Who?" His grandmother insisted.
"The Treacy girl," he felt like a jerk.
"The one with the bad name?" Midget's eyes went the size of her house-elf's, "Odharnait?"
He nodded curtly.
"It explains all the potions her father is skilled in." Mr. Harman stared down at his half empty plate.
"What do you mean?" His wife asked, fear was no longer hidden in her tone.
"I've met him a couple of times in break time, when potions came up he talked a lot about them, like he knew every bit of that science."
"And?" Bren said, irritated, "Can't it be just a hobby?"
"Not when you have a rumor claiming your daughter's a werewolf." He countered.
"The point is..." Charisma interrupted, "... who else was attacked, if we assume this rumor to be true? I've read bad and wrongful words in their Daily Prophet - Severus Snape the Great being the deceit and power seeker, Harry Potter blackmailing Narcissa, Draco defending his rival classmate for the sake of saving his friend." She seemed quite disgusted, her face features weren't hiding an emotion, "Their History of Magic professor must be foul."
"Mr. Chris?" Bren raised his eyebrows.
"If that is his name then yes," his grandmother abandoned her food and looked at him confidently.
"Doesn't he just.. teach what's in the book?"
"Not when you give speeches in the central zone about the majestic Malfoys and lesser Potters just for gigs."
Bren had the urge to laugh at the last word his Seer grandmother had just said but it was too scary to know of a bad teacher in Hogwarts where thousands of students listened to their teachings - it meant he couldn't just convince his friends of the truth.