Enola Scamander grew up at Hogwarts during the reign of Grindelwald-practically abandoned there by her older brothers-Newt and Theseus. As their fame grew rampant and their involvement in the fight against Grindelwald became public, Enola's sense of...
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HIGHEST VIRTUES
"Mother believed privacy was the highest virtue. And the one most frequently violated."
—Enola Holmes
"We're level in 3...2...1—give him hell, Rogers."
At Agent Romanoff's command, Steve jumped from the quinjet, without fear or hesitation. I was left awkwardly standing in the plane, comforted by the familiar presence of my wand—clutched securely in my hand.
Romanoff's head included back towards me, a type of device she called 'headset' sitting atop her red curls. "That would be your cue Scamander."
I flashed a brisk smile at her, although her head was once again facing forward, and whispered to the twig hiding out in my pocket. "Keep out of sight, alright?"
After Picket's squeak of acknowledgment I disapparated from the spot, loathing the unpleasant sensation that came with it.
I appeared among a large crowd of people beside Steve, whose eyes were fixed on a dark haired man with green attire and horned helmet—the infamous Loki. I frowned when I noticed that there was more than one Loki in the crowd, recognizing them at once as meager illusions meant to deceive.
"Magic..." I whispered. "No wonder they needed a witch."
Loki's head tilted in curiosity at my arrival, while his illusions leered down at me from my peripheral vision. "And who might you be?"
I blinked back my surprise—he was unnaturally polite for a dark wizard. "Enola Scamander," I declared, "auror, detective, and as of right now, the woman who is going to bring you to justice."
My body tensed as I watched Loki's eyes travel down my clenched hand to the tip of my wand, a small smirk weaving its way onto his countenance.
"It looks like you're out of time, Loki," Steve said from my left, that trusty shield of his resting by his side.
A distinct wiring noise assaulted my ears and I turned just as the quinjet came barreling around the corner, a long machine extending from the belly of the flying ship. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," Agent Romanoff's voice demanded, but Loki simply pointed his glowing scepter at the jet and fired, just narrowly missing it as it swerved to avoid the blast.
Steve acted first—throwing his shield at Loki who deflected it without much difficulty. He then ran at Loki who rained shot after shot at the soldier, who expertly avoided the bombardment.
A stray blast from the dark wizard's scepter snapped me into action. "Protego!" The conjured shield acted like a barrier between civilians and disturbed villain, allowing partygoers to run for cover—all in mad haste to escape from the ensuing battle. "Evanesco!" The illusions of Loki disappeared, clearing a path for the frantic crowd.
