Chapter 94: Julia and the Back-Flipping Cat
"And don't bother coming back until you have her!" Benjamin Wilkinson roared, his fury finally spent. "Am I supposed to go myself?"
"Y-yes, sir. Right away," the messenger stammered, and fled the office to assemble a team.
"Wait!"
The wizard froze at the door. "Sir? Is there something else?"
"Take one of the Aurors who was on the scene of the original incident," Wilkinson commanded, his voice now calm and precise, a stark contrast to his earlier rage. "And remember: under no circumstances is anyone to get close to that area!"
"Understood, sir. I'll see to it." The wizard scurried out, closing the door behind him.
"A bunch of useless fools," Wilkinson muttered to himself. He got up, checked to make sure no one was listening at the door, and then, with a sigh, began to pick up the various items he had scattered across the floor. "I hope Julia doesn't do anything reckless. I hope they get to her in time."
As he tidied his office, his anger gave way to a father's worry for his headstrong, and academically challenged, daughter. In the wizarding world, knowledge truly was power.
"Now that you mention it, I do seem to recall something," the beautiful woman in the bikini said, the sun glinting off her pale skin. She sat up in her beach chair, causing a ripple effect that drew the surreptitious gazes of every male within a fifty-foot radius.
This was a new No-Maj resort. After questioning all the wizarding families in the area and finding nothing, Julia had stumbled upon this crowded beach and decided to take a long shot. To her surprise, it seemed to have paid off.
"Could you tell me more?" Julia asked eagerly.
"No need to be so formal, little one," the woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, said with a dazzling smile. Her name was Nava Morgan. She took Julia's hand and pulled her down onto the beach chair beside her. "You're adorable. What's your name?"
I'm not that little, Julia thought, her eyes instinctively drawn to the source of the aforementioned ripple effect. Oh. Well, maybe I am.
"My name is Julia Wilkinson, Miss Morgan," she said, her voice suddenly much quieter.
"Just Nava is fine. So, you're a... wizard enthusiast, searching for traces of magic?" Nava looked the girl up and down. She was dressed in a long robe and a pointed hat, with a small wooden stick peeking out of her pocket. The high-heeled shoes she wore were a strange, old-fashioned style. She looks like a character out of a century-old storybook, Nava thought. What a strange, sweet girl.
"I can't really talk about it here," Nava said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Why don't you come back to my hotel room with me?"
"Oh. Well, alright," Julia agreed. She assumed that stories of wizards and local legends were the kind of thing best discussed in private.
"Then let's go," Nava said, springing to her feet and wrapping a slender arm around Julia's waist.
"Ah—" Julia let out a small squeak. She was not used to such physical intimacy, from men or women, and a blush crept up her neck. All the fire and fury she had displayed at MACUSA and in front of the old gentleman seemed to have evaporated. Perhaps it was because the Head of Magical Law Enforcement was her father, and her ancestors had helped found MACUSA, that she felt entitled to challenge them. But in the presence of this stunning No-Maj woman, her own magic seemed to have deserted her.
"Couldn't we just find a quiet spot to talk?" she stammered. "It doesn't seem proper to go to a stranger's room."
Nava laughed. "What a little prude! It's 1991! I haven't met a girl like you in years." She gave Julia a playful squeeze. "Alright, whatever you say. We'll find a quiet place to chat."
From a distance, they looked like two sisters, one bold and confident, the other reserved and demure. They walked off together, hand in hand.
In a secluded corner of the resort:
"Nava, what are you doing?"
"I'm going to show you a cat that can do backflips."
"I don't need to see a cat. I want you to tell me the story."
"But it's a cat that can do backflips!"
"This must be the place," the old wizard who called himself Percival said. He stood before a wide, open plain. The very air, the water, the plants—everything before him pulsed with the energy of a massive, complex enchantment, a web of spells designed to repel outsiders, seal off the area, and alter memories.
"Strange," he mused. "That young lady should have been here by now. She didn't seem to have any mobility issues, and she's certainly not old enough for osteoporosis." He scanned the area. There was no trace of her. A wizard of her skill level, with no training in counter-surveillance, would have left a clear trail.
"Just as well she's not here," he concluded. "The less she's exposed to whatever is in there, the better." Though he knew there were few things in the world that could truly threaten him, he didn't want the added burden of protecting a reckless tagalong.
He reached out and pressed his hand against the empty air. The Elder Wand at his hip remained untouched; the situation, it seemed, did not yet warrant its use. A series of loud cracks, like shattering glass, echoed through the clearing. The magical runes that had been shimmering in the air fractured and dissolved into nothingness.
"After all these years, MACUSA's enforcement methods don't seem to have improved at all," the old wizard said, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. "Though I suppose the British Ministry is just as ancient and stagnant. Perhaps the whole world is."
"I never noticed it when I was young. But as Ryan would say, the older I get, the more I realize... the world should not be like this."
~~~
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