hollow // credence barebone

02. the beginning of trouble

                                                                                ...

president seraphina picquery had a lot on her head lately. in times like this, leading the magical congress of the united states of america resembled dancing on blades.

america was huge enough. keeping an eye on the broad boundary between the no-maj and the wizards meant constant vigilance, and especially now that gallert grindelwald's whereabouts became a mystery but his plans have never been clearer. a war is what he wanted and a war was what he was going to have. ever since wizards came into hiding, many have rebelled against it. magic was a powerful tool able to shape the entire planet, and yet they allowed themselves to be cast in shadows like some filthy rats living in the drains. to some extend, seraphina picquery understood those who opposed the hiding. particularly now when every carefully inserted thread began coming undone right under her nose and she found it nearly impossible to stop the dam from breaking.

in times like this, she congratulated herself once more for legalising the consumption of alcohol in the wizarding comminity of the united states, for she wouldn't be able to hold onto this mess without the burning liquid sliding down her throat every other night.

and as if keeping magic a secret was not hard enough already in a place like america, her most trusted companion of macusa's mysery arrived with very upsetting news.

she stared at the pictures he brought, feeling the bags under her eyes darken. an entire no-maj house reduced to a pile of bricks and dust. a violently ripped rift in the streets cutting it in half like it was a piece of cake. hundreds of eye-witnesses.

incredible how fast no-maj reporters could work if striken by inspiration. news all over new york and other corners of america were already combusting from suspicions. some of them theoritised about a crack to the earth's very core which would soon engulf the united states in volcanic fires and floods from the oceans. nobody believed them, of course. nature wasn't this insane. they were growing more and more likely to believe in the second explanation, though. with the increase of unexplainable occurences, the no-maj community began loudly suspecting witchcraft and demonic activity. if they believed the latter, perhaps seraphina picquery wouldn't be drowning her night in another bottle, reading over percival graves' report and gradually fading under the migraine. if even the head of magical law enforcement found it hard to deliver a proper solution to the issue, the situation became clear.

the magical community was under a thread of exposion, gallert grindelwald was plotting the burning of this world, and the magical beasts would soon wreck havoc to her city. but this she had yet to know.

...

the first time newt scamander arrived in america was a year ago. he instantly fell in love with the sight of statue of liberty as it towered above the passing ship, looking tall and proud. muggles wouldn't know, but the statue lowered her head in an elegant bow, giving her greetings the new-coming wizards.

"incredible. the macusa surely pays great attention to the details."

the girl to his left sitting somewhat at the back, merely looked up from her book and shrugged, "show-offs."

"i wish i had half as much excitmenet as you. that would really make my life more cheerful."

she ignored him as she often did. elizabeth foley was not fractured at all by his spirit as she remained calmly wrapped in her little shadows. 

she was freshly out of hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, having left in an academic glory thanks to the many nights she stayed awake cramming over dusty textbooks in an attempt to convince fate that she was worthy of bigger things. 18 years ago she was born into a half-muggle, half-wizard family in the suburbian area of london. she didn't retain many memories from her childhood. it was only pictures and stories that told her about her mother's demise once her marriage to a muggle came to a violent end. somehow, she was able to keep her magic a secret until her daughter was 3 years old. eventually, secrets came undone and so did her father as he left the house with a slam to the door and a few pictures falling off the stone fireplace. later on, some people said the man had ended his life the very same night. others say he's still alive somewhere in scotland, having fixed the memory of hist first wife with a bunch of other women and a daily supply of booze and cigaretts. elizabeth's mother didn't try particularly hard to get her husband back. the stories go on, describing her death to be the heart-break one. a tragic love-tale about forbidden romance leading to a catastrophe and a child abandoned early on in life. but elizabeth didn't remember any of that.