Death changes people.

It's a common phrase, though when most people say it they typically mean how the loss of a loved one makes people reexamine their priorities or even just how some of the inner nastiness that people keep hidden comes to the surface on a loved ones death. Though I found it much more personally applicable to me, since it wasn't that someone else died and it changed me. I died.

And let me tell you, death is a bitch.

"Are you done waxing philosophically in your head again? Because we need to do this test before your four o'clock appointment." Annabel said. Annabel was my assistant, friend, and the picture of a southern belle. Minus the dress, this was a laboratory not a social event.

"I wasn't waxing philosophically in my head. I was thinking about that Qing wizard we met on our last excursion, because damn, he was working it." I replied. No need to have my assistant thinking she knows my inner thoughts.

The fact she knew legilimency was completely beside matters.

I receive a hum of disbelief from my cheeky assistant.

I turned my attention back to my work. Before I had died and been reborn as a witch I certainly wouldn't have thought that I would be known around the magical world for a job that required slow methodical work. Even now I'm fairly impatient and prone to rash acts. Except for this one thing. My work. My art. The one thing in any life I'd ever felt truly accomplished in.

"Alright time to test." I order.

I raise my wand, point it at my target and cast the spell.

"Avada Kedavra."

The green bolt of energy from my want rockets towards the target. A small cage in which a beetle rested, unaware of it fate as a test subject. The beetle, unfortunately, dies immediately. The thirteen rings of runes expanding out ten meters in every direction from the cage prove completely pointless.

I heave a sigh of frustration. "Annabel, mark down test Gamma-1,258 is a failure."

"Yes ma'am." Annabel nods, "I'll check the runes for stresses, seeing which ones were tripped."

I give a tired nod. "Thank you." I then walk over to the Improbably Comfortable Couch and flop into it, immediately feeling the stress from the failed test draining as I embraced a hug from clouds. Or really an ugly plaid colored sofa that had seen better days.

Say what you would about the wizarding community, but we made damn fine furniture. Everything in my home was spelled to be as comfortable as possible.

"Wrph uf mah meefin whuf."

"I can't understand you with your head buried in the couch ma'am."

I contemplate just keeping my head there before turning my head, "Who is my meeting with?"

"A representative with the Wizengamot." My assistant says carefully, her south Georgia accent tripping over the word Wizengamot.

"Wizengamot?" I ask.

"Yes ma'am."

"As in the the Wizengamot of Great Britain?" I say as my temper begins to rise.

"...yes."

"And did I not say that I don't want you to ever accept any jobs for anywhere in Great Britain?" I raise my occlumency barrier up as I mentally curse. I had managed to make it thirty years in what I recognized as Rowlings Wizarding World without stepping foot into Great Britain and I had no intention of doing so now.

At least all of my actions that had me interact with a Dark Lord in this life were completely accidents. I have no intentions of going near one on purpose.

"You did. But I haven't accepted a job. All that's happening is an in person job offer. They promised to pay us with a Phoenix feather for our time."

I scowl. The fact that it is 1991 and someone is offering to pay me with a phoenix feather makes me feel fairly certain who it is that is setting an appointment with me and what it is that he wanted protected. Though a phoenix feather for just a meeting is a good price. Most feathers were bought up for wands and they were good components to use in my research.

I heave a sigh. Phoenix feathers, which are magically very centered on life and light, do have a good chance in being used somehow to find a counter for the killing curse. And buying wands and breaking them open for the feather is getting very pricey.

"Fine. I'll forgive you. This time." I say with a pointed finger. The effect somewhat ruined by my head still resting on the couch with my ass sticking up in the air.

"Thank you ma'am." Anabel says, clearly not bothered by my threat at all. I swear. Kids these days.

I cast a glance at the clock, the spelled unicorn on the clock was busy grazing on something that wasn't there instead of pointing at the correct time though.

Rather than yell for the magical construct to pay attention I instead just go with my gut and judge that it's probably about 3:30. I hadn't eaten anything yet either. And if I haven't eaten yet then...

"I'm a bad guardian." I say and stand up, "I'm going to make lunch and feed the Little Mogwai. I'll get you something too. It'll be ready when you're done taking notes."

"Sure, sure." Anabel said with a wave already jotting down notes as she went from rune to rune on the last ring.

I walked through the door of my lab and then stepped out of my wardrobe, giving a stretch that popped my back. I stowed my wand in my Victoria's Secret Compartment and walked into a completely muggle looking home.

Well a USA upper middle class muggle home.

Walking into the living room I manage to see that Lee was not wandering around looking for me, and was instead still completely focus on Mario Bros 3.

Good. He knew I had a lab somewhere in the house, he just didn't know where it was. I didn't need him poking at some Cockatrice Quills when I'm not looking.

"Hey kiddo. I'm going to make lunch. What'cha ya want?"

"No thanks Aunt Sephi. I had a peanut butter sandwich earlier." He said without looking up from the TV.

I smiled sadly. The little squirt was growing up and making his own lunches.

Though I suppose this year is also when most magical communities slap a wand in children's hands and teach them how to throw Jelly Leg Curses. Ah. Good times.

"Alright. Well I'm making lunch for me and Annabel now. If you want something too, now is the time to say something. Especially since I have a meeting-"

A knock came at the door.

Well that was too soon. Looking at an actually dependable clock showed me it is more than thirty minutes before my appointment is set. I sigh and go to the front door. Another knock sounds before I can get there.

"Alright, I get it. You're-" I open the door to reveal a dark skinned man in a three piece suit with cummerbund. The jacket was a metallic silver that seemed to ripple and move like a flowing river, the shirt was a deep black that had small points of glowing stars that moved based on what direction you were looking from and he gold cuff-links that probably cost more than the average American's yearly wage.

"Hey, Septima." The man said, "I came here to-"

I shut the door in his face.

Knocking again quickly followed.

"Go away Gordon." I growled back.

"Come on Septima, just let me in. It's important." Came his muffled reply.

"Get away now or I'll activate my static wards!"

"And having me laying on your front lawn writhing in electricity is better than just talking with me?"

"I promise, you being electrocuted is better than most things." I say as I grab my wand and begin to raise it up the chandler hanging above me, my wand already going to tap the ward combination I wanted on the dangling crystals to both get rid of my annoyance and make it so my neighbors don't notice that the man screaming and wetting himself.

"It's about Lee!" Gordon says.

My wand stops. The door opens.

"Get your ass inside." I let the man in, close and lock the door, and tap a very different set of crystals this time. To anyone not magic sensitive nothing would have seemed to change. Those with magic would suddenly feel a blanket of oppressions descend on them as their own magic grew as thick an unyielding as syrup and refuse to do anything they commanded. No spells could form in the confines of my property now. Myself included.

Which is why I reached into my pocket and place one hand on my gun.

"Talk." I order.

"It's about the Midas Order. They're planning something at Ambrose Academy this year. They're planning on taking Lee."

"...fuck." I growl. The Midas Order has been a pain in my ass since school days. A more PR friendly version of the Death Eaters really. Instead of being racist they're classicist. Which was just so much better morally, in their minds at least. "Why?"

"They seem to think you have something. I don't know what. An item, or even something you've researched. I'm not sure. But they want to have him grabbed and have you ransom it back."

"Why don't they try and do a made up search and seizure like they usually do?" I ask.

"They can't. You've established enough good will with the right people in power they can't just force it without evidence."

Well glad to see my years of work were good for something, but I also knew I couldn't always count on good will. Money and cleverly implied threats have a tendency to make good will not amount for much.

"Anything else?" I ask.

"Yes. I managed to confirm that Headmaster Magecraft is a member."

"Fuck! You bring all kinds of good news." I say, running my had through my pixie cut, idly wishing long hair wasn't so much of a hassle that I would let myself grow it out. If only to pull out at times like this.

Ambros Academy is the only academy on the Pacific coast of the USA. It is zoned for all witches and wizards in California, Oregon, Washington, and parts of Navada, Canada, and Mexico. A huge academy by Wizard standards. And Magecraft had been in charge of it for the last ten years.

"Standards have really fallen since we went there."

"Hey. I'm one of the charms teachers." Gordon says in defense.

"As I said. They've clearly fallen."

Well I couldn't let Lee go there now. At least not this year, as much as I'd like for him to go to my Alma Mater, that wasn't going to happen now. Still, there was that time I spent as a teaching assistant in Smokey Woods. They don't usually accept transfers, but I might be able to leverage some connections.

"Fine. Thank you for coming to tell me this." I begrudgingly say, looking down, "I know you risked something to tell me this."

I look up again to see Gordon's lips coming in at me.

One hand claps around his cheeks, the other opens the door, and I physically shove the man out the door, the man stumbling wildly trying to catch himself.

"What! Did I read that wrong or-"

I slam the door shut.

I hate when my plans were ruined. Still, I'm going to take him to Wavestum's to get his wand before we go anywhere. He made damn good wands. I use my own turtle shell wand to again tap at the chandelier and lower the barriers on the house again before turning away.

A knock came from the door.

"Listen can't you take a-"

An old man in bright purple robes stood on my doorstep. "I'm sorry. I am a bit early, thought I just thought you might want to know an upset looking man in very expensive clothes was staring at your house for a while when I arrived."

I close my eyes and count backwards from ten while raising my occlumency up to be as powerful as I could get it.

"Yes. Albus Dumbledore I presume." I say while extending a hand.

He reaches forward to return the gesture, shaking my hand with a grip so weak it surprised me a bit. "You presume correctly Miss Wickett. Thank you so kindly for meeting with me."

"Come on in. I was just about to make lunch if you'd like to join me."

"I would be delighted. I have heard much about you American's 'Hotdogs' and have been looking forward to trying one, if you have it."

A smile tugged at my lips. "Sure. I think I can set you up. I have some sauerkraut and left over chillie too, so you can get it right on your first try. Come on in."