The world was charades with pawns for people, and Troy Meadowes had no qualms picking them out, slipping into their minds like a puppeteer to get what he desired. Perhaps it was because of the oddity surrounding his birth-how the magic in his veins...
hi so I just want to give y'all a heads-up that any chapter with the double-line symbols ( || ) will be in second person pov!!!
this is to clear up any confusion before it happens. the chapters with these ( || ) will be present-day 'you' and the normal chapters will be third-person troy from the past. I understand second person pov can be a bit squicky and is the least-used pov, but I do wanna try it out, and it seems to fit here (plus I've gotten ops that it's well-done) so I'd appreciate if y'all give it a shot! imo a story is enjoyable if it's interesting, not simply bc of the pov, but that may just be me
anyway, that's all!! hope you enjoy the chapter, and there will be notes at the end!
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YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, standing in the foyer of the crumbling bricked villa, with vines creeping up the exterior sides and crackled tiles under your feet. Silent except for the occasional caw of a raven.
Or at least you would if you'd been paying attention. And now you're seriously wishing you had been paying attention because this shit is creepy.
But you know there was a reason. You wrack your brain, remembering bits and pieces of your assignment (it isn't your fault the head of the department called you at the crack of dawn on a weekend!). Something about the Aurors needing the last bits of information about Scamander Estate. The family had long since moved house after the death of Winona Scamander; the current heir, Rolf, had hustled his wife and kids to a countryside house after his mother's passing—the fact that it was miles and miles away from this old place didn't pass by unbeknownst.
"I wanted a change of location," Rolf Scamander had told the Auror Department. The team had walked into the middle of the chaos that accompanied packing; objects flying around, shrieks and laughter in the air; Luna Scamander waving her wand, creating differently-shaped baubles that grew in size by the number; their children, Lorcan and Lysander, giggling and clapping their hands, entertained and sufficiently distracted when Luna deftly swept their toys and books into one of the suitcases. At the doorway to the living room where most of the hubbub was occurring, Rolf gave his family a fond smile, secret and personal, and all of a sudden, it made so much sense why he wanted to start the next segment of his life away from his childhood home.
This place held so much—it still does, you can't help but think, looking up at the grand ceiling, the wide archways built for large magical creatures to go in and out without bother, the bay windows overlooking the large lake, probably bright and clean if taken care of but now filled with muck and looked more like swamp water. There's a story here—multiple stories, in fact—within the cracked plaster of walls, the dust layering the floor, and the empty fireplace. Any muggle stumbling upon this magnificent deteriorating structure could sense it, let alone you, an Auror on your first mission.
