That One October {T.M.R}

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨

"This morning's copy of the Dailey Prophet has caused a panic." Headmaster Dippet said, "I'm sure we all know by now what the paper spoke of, but things are starting to get out of control."

Murmurs erupted in the Great Hall's massive chamber, making Mika hide her face in George's shoulder.

She had started it, but completely unintentionally of course. A boy got ahold of her copy and began showing it to anyone and everyone.

Nobody said anything. It was so quiet that the wind outside seemed to wail a thousand times louder.

"We are safe here in this castle." Dippet assured, "While it is true that the dark wizard we all know has returned, the Ministry of Magic is already on it. I'll say it again, we are secure in Hogwarts."

With that, the stoic man gave a nod and sat back down in his seat.

Slowly at first, but then all at once, chatter resumed within the four tables.

Most students looked frightened but some appeared unfazed. Others seemed confused.

Of those concerned included Irene, who stared at her bacon with a deep scowl.

Vivian observed her from afar, feeling sorry for her.

It was Florence, Italy, that was struck. After three years in the dark, the man known as Switchface rose once again without warning.

Italy was already horribly affected by the Muggle war, but The Every-faced Man, along with hundreds of cloaked wizards, strode through Florence and caused even more devastation and chaos.

They murdered and mutilated people throughout the entire night. Germany had Florence under their occupation, and the soldiers were astonished to see their bullets stop in mid-air, turn around, and fire back at them.

The death count had already surpassed one thousand, and most of those lives had been those of the innocent.

The streets were littered with battered corpses, innards, and limbs; some that could not be identified to a body.

The Muggles had their own newspaper, and in it, the disaster was described as "an attack using weapons that defied the laws of logic and physics".

The so-called weapons looked like mere sticks to a Muggle. But, they soon learned that that wasn't the case.

The papers said the "sticks" were a new invention, but by who, what, and how? Nobody knew.

The Ministry of Magic, not just the European branches, but the north and south American, Asian, and African ones too, worked tirelessly to deliver memory charms and smooth the whole thing over.

Margot was the first within their group to speak. "What are everyone's plans for today?"

It was Sunday, so their day was free to do with whatever they pleased.

Vivian glanced at her. The blonde girl seemed to be one of those unbothered by the situation.

No one answered Margot. Gabriel shrugged.

"Well, I'm going to the gardens." Margot declared, "I want to see if the strawberries are ripe."

George looked confused. "Strawberries? Those are a summer fruit. They're not around now."