The first ray of dawn light pierced through the church just as Maximus and his group sealed the doors, temporarily securing their refuge in the shadows. The silence inside the building was overwhelming, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wood, which seemed to protest at their presence. Maximus walked toward the pulpit, his imposing figure gliding through the dim light. He sat on a chair nearby, feeling the faint warmth of the sun starting to touch his dead skin.
That warmth wasn't the comforting kind of life, but something more sinister. The sunlight caused him a growing discomfort, similar to a slow and constant burn.
—It seems that the sun affects us in some way —he said softly, looking at his hands, which had begun to redden slightly—. Even if it's just a temporary aversion, we must avoid exposure to light. We'll need protection —he continued, speaking more to himself than to the others—. But we must be careful not to look like Death Eaters. The first step is to organize our knowledge. We must make progress.
He approached an empty shelf at the back of the church, where several old and crumbling journals had been left to rot after years of abandonment. With a flick of his wand and murmuring a Transfiguration spell, he turned them into three new, white-covered journals and handed them to each of his companions, along with pens he found among the debris.
—Write down everything you remember about the magical world —he ordered—. Everything you've absorbed since… we returned. That way, we can divide tasks and strategies.
Rachel was the first to start writing, her movements quick and fluid, almost human, as she filled the pages with long sentences. Beside her, Arthur and Thomas looked clumsier, their hands trembling slightly as they held the pens, as if struggling against some intoxication. However, they had one advantage: they didn't tire. Despite their awkwardness, they would keep writing for hours if necessary.
Feeling restless, Maximus decided to explore the church further. He moved with an unnatural agility, as if floating among the shadows. His empty eyes fixed on a small side door leading to what must have been the old pastor's quarters. The place was in ruins. There was a broken bed, with tattered sheets and a pillow that barely held its shape. The wardrobe, though dusty, still held an old robe hanging, worn by time but still in relatively good condition.
—Reparo —he whispered, pointing his wand at the robe. Instantly, the fibers of the fabric wove themselves back together, partially restoring it. It wasn't new, but at least it was usable, and its long-sleeved, hooded design would make it perfect for covering his skin from the sun. Maximus put it on and looked at himself in a piece of broken mirror hanging on the wall.
What he saw surprised him. His skin, once pale and cadaverous, had begun to brighten, though it didn't resemble that of a human. It was something more… beautiful in its strangeness. A different being, cold and distant, like a living marble statue. Despite his condition, there was an unsettling perfection in his reflection.
Lost in thought, a noise in the distance snapped him out of his reverie. He approached the window and saw a girl wandering through the forest with a small basket in her hand.
—"It's a lovely day, Mr. Mittens. We're going to pick more mushrooms so Mum can make that stew you like so much," —the girl sang softly, speaking to what seemed to be an invisible cat. Maximus could hear her perfectly from a distance, thanks to his heightened senses, honed by the silence in the cave. His ears picked up even the faintest cracks of branches beneath the girl's feet.
Maximus watched for a moment, evaluating the situation. "A child," he thought. It might be less intimidating than interacting with an adult, though he could always use a spell if things got complicated. He decided to approach.
With supernatural agility, he jumped through the window, landing softly on the forest floor. He followed the girl, his movements barely making a sound as he glided among the trees. The girl, however, began to sense his presence. She stopped for a moment, turning her head toward the trees.
—H-hello? Who's there? —she asked nervously, clutching the basket against her chest.
Maximus decided not to alarm her further. He made a deliberate noise, snapping a branch underfoot before approaching slowly.
—Hello, little one —he said in a voice that was gentle yet strange, so controlled it almost seemed inhuman—. My name is Max. What's yours?
The girl looked at him warily, taking a step back. —My name's Abby… but Mum told me not to talk to strangers —she responded, her voice trembling slightly.
Maximus murmured a spell. —Confundo.
The spell wasn't cast with complete precision, but it was enough to dull the girl's senses, relaxing her stance.
—Tell me, Abby, where are we? And how can I get to London?
Abby, in a semi-bewildered state, answered without much thought. —We're in Longhouse, in Cornwall. To get to London, you need to take the bus from the village square —she said, as if reciting something she had heard hundreds of times.
Maximus smiled slightly. He knew they would need money to travel. Taking advantage of the spell, he convinced her to return home and bring back as much money as she could find. The girl, in a trance, agreed without hesitation, running back to her house. As he waited, Maximus pondered. Going to London was the next step. There was Diagon Alley, the Ministry of Magic… resources and opportunities to consolidate his power.
Shortly after, Abby returned with 600 pounds in her hand, a considerable sum.
—I saw Dad hide money in a book —the girl said, her voice still somewhat dreamy—. He told me not to tell Mum.
Maximus watched her for a moment, surprised by her obedience under the spell. —Go back home and stay inside for the rest of the day —he ordered in a firm tone. Abby nodded and returned home.
Meanwhile, Maximus made his way back to the church, his thoughts focused on his next move. The journey to London would have to be at night, when they could move unnoticed, and the Confundus Charm would be useful if they needed to influence drivers or passengers.
When he returned, he noticed that several hours had passed. Arthur and Thomas had stopped writing. Thomas had barely filled four pages, while Arthur had covered at least ten. Rachel, on the other hand, was still focused, her journal almost a quarter full.
—Search around the church —he ordered—. We need clothes to cover ourselves. Something loose enough so that no one notices what we are. We cannot risk drawing attention.
They waited patiently for night to fall. The sun was already disappearing when Maximus heard another noise, this time coming from the main doors of the church.
—Damn old hag —a voice grumbled from outside—. She wouldn't let me in. Filthy woman. Well, at least I won't freeze out here...
The intruder shoved the door forcefully, and Maximus readied himself for whatever was to come.
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Author notes
I´ve opened a p4treo n so if you like my works you can support me there!, I wont have new chapters or somenthing earlier but I´ve put polls there to vote for new arcs and storys :) anyways it´s only to support me if you like what I write.
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