Terrible was not a likely word to describe a lovely creature. They were both contradicting adjectives. But for Aurelia, a fourteen year old girl who carries herself poised and masked with a seemingly impenetrable facade, these words were very much fitting to describe the monster hunter. Of course, the aristocratic pureblood had not always possessed such a tight leash over her own emotions. It was through experience and pureblood upbringing that shaped the child, especially on the road to becoming both a monster hunter.

The inked words in the thin pages of books can only teach one to a small extent. It is the experiences which one truly learnt the most from. It was not too long ago when Aurelia first experienced a dwelling under a dhampir’s presence.That was not after she had been attacked by the same dhampir mere seconds later. This terrifying presence was a sentiment which reigned fear over the monster hunter, one which Astrehilde Bezuidenhout, her grandmother and monster hunting mentor had warned her about.She had been caught off guard. But that night, the night which she barely made out alive from, would not be the last time that the Gryffindor would come across such an aura. Kaegen Deathmote and the dhampir professor whom she had her first detention delivered from, both possessed such an aura that Aurelia herself took a fascination upon. It was in their nature that granted them such an ability to command respect without much effort.

Whereas for Aurelia, respect, she found, did not come very easily.

How would she describe her third year? Accomplished many things she did including founding her own club and participating in school activities. She had even gotten her grades up. What more could she have done? Made some friends perhaps? However, making friends was not at all on her list of priorities over the months, not when seemingly little to no one around her respected her. Not even the members of the spells wands and games club, some which blatantly broken the rules during gameplay and especially Anastasia Beckett or her good friend Rafael D’Spacito for that matter. Rafael D’Spacito, his incredulous attitude that worsened by the months were unbelievable.

Some would say the fourteen year old was already intimidating enough, yet this utter lack of respect from her peers had caused a pretty frustrated Aurelia to seek more ways to gain some authority. Whatever means it took, she refused for such treatment to carry on to the next semester. The last few weeks of July had been spent in training, embarking on quests and slaying one kind of monster after another with sleek dagger. Pursuing her studies and extending her knowledge she had. Soon she learnt the art of being terrible and her intimidation only growing, no one could hurt her. Absolutely no one would stand being in her terrible, terrible presence. If this would not grant her the respect she wanted, she did not know what more could.

Alexander sat in the Hogwarts Library. His face and intent clearly focused on the lines in the book. The book specifically was 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', whilst next to it was another book. Titled 'Beings of the Magical World'.
The current page he was reading was on acromantulas. Their weaknesses, their strengths, their organs etc. As he read through it his mind was sent back to the forbidden forest. The image of a giant flaming Acromantula charging towards him. He shook his head as he once more focused his intent on the book in front of him. Then his attention shifted to the other book that was on the table, 'Beings of the Magical World' and his mind shifted back towards the content of the book. Specifically one species.

House elves

As he thought of them Alexander realized that his hands were clenched together into fists. His teeth clenched and a glare sent towards the book that held the description of the house-elves. The treacherous little things. Alexander's mind shifted back to the kitchen. Specifically to one of the older bat-eared creatures. The deceptive little demon called Canbey. How it loved to keep them all in the dark. To make them all forget.

Alexander forced himself to relax and let out a breath. Yet his anger still remained. In his year, no years at Hogwarts. Alexander has seen a consistent thing. Sentient non-humans were not to be trusted. They either lacked a will of their own or had malevolent intent. He had experienced this himself and had heard tales of it.

Though he had not witnessed it himself he had heard how half-giants had attacked the previous blossom ball. Then there were hags, the filthy evil things. Whilst both acromantulas and house elves had in his own experience seemed to be hostile.

He had not met centaurs or merfolk yet but he did not doubt that they would fit to the theme that had already been established. That they either had malicious intent or that they were just as deceptive as the other non-humans.

Alexander was not naive, he knew that humans could lie, deceive and be malicious as well. But the fact did not change that humans could be good as well. From what Alexander had seen that was certainly not the case for the other creatures. They were simply not to be trusted.

And he had to be ready.

He might not yet know who or what was truly responsible for all that had happened to him. What had caused him to lose so many years. It could be werewolves, vampires, Dhampirs, Hags, House Elves, maybe even Centaurs. But he knew one thing.

He would be prepared. Whatever unnatural threat might come to him, he would face it and made sure he would not be vulnerable again.

He had been vulnerable for so long. And Alexander knew that whatever happened, he might still not be ready. That there were threats that he would not be able to defeat. Threats that were too great for him.

But he knew that he would not go quietly go into the night.

He would be prepared. And maybe, one day he would get revenge'




and so he continued reading the books on the different creatures of the magical world. Mentally envisioning how he could eliminate them if the day might come.

It all started when Penelope was small. Her brother, William, had his first sign of magic. Now, Penelope was too young to read large books like her brother, but she could read her basic sight words, and lucky for her, they were common in the books William had gotten.
William had just showed his first signs of magic. He was happy he wasn't a squib, and his parents bought him a few books on magic, just so he could know the basics. He would practice the spells inside with a stick, careful not to actually cast any spells.
Soon Penelope found William spending almost every second practicing his spells and enchantments and charms and hexes, and she wanted to be a part of it, too.
More so than the want of wanting to be like her brother, Penelope was curious, as all young siblings would be, as to what her brother was doing when he sat in his room and read. She wanted to be just like her brother, so she took one of his books one day and started to read it on her own bed. The book was a small book of Charms, and it was dull, but to Penelope, it was the world.
She tried to read the words, to understand what she was reading, wanting to know what it was talking about. The thought had crossed her mind briefly to go ask for help, but surely William would just tell her to put his book back. This was a voyage she had to embark on alone, and, although it was challenging, she wasn't afraid. She had never been afraid of a challenge. She got it into her head to read the whole book, and that was exactly what she did.
It took Penelope hours to read a chapter, because of all of the new words and sounds she had never heard of. She felt like giving up, and tears even threatened her eyes, but she didn't stop. She physically could not stop It was as if some sort of nonexistent spell was keeping her there, needing more than anything else in the world to finish this book.
By the time it was dinner, she was confused, tired, and had a terrible headache. But, beyond all of that, something amazing had happened. She knew what she wanted to be. Anything that was related to that book.
Although many of the words had been hard to read, and she only remembered a few of the words, one of them stuck in her head. It was a simple word, and, ironically, the first word she learned how to spell. Six letters, one syllable. So simple, yet so powerful.
"What's wrong, Penny?" asked her dad.
"Charms." she replied. "Charms."

Percival did not know when people started to think of him as handsome. Though he had to guess his earliest recollection was during Year 4. Percival Rainwood met Dante in his Maths class. Both boys had a strong dislike for the subject and had ended up talking a bit. Though it seemed like the other didn't like him as much as he liked him. Percival decided to confront Dante about his cold nature and was given a reason. Dante called Percival a 'Nothing more than a pretty boy.' It had been the first instance where Percival had realized how other's view, and it stung the young boy's pride. As any child who handled rejection, he reacted badly. The boy walked up to a random child who had a smaller build then he had, and punched the child in the face. Though this wasn't the first time he had realized how other's viewed him, just the first time he ever noticed. As a child, he was always told by his Uncle that he would get all the girls when he was older. His mother would always say, with slight judgment, that he would definitely be a ladies man when he grew up. As a young child, Percival hadn't put much thought into their words. Though the older he got the more he realized the hidden implications behind their words. When Percival started at Hogwarts, he began to notice that others were distracted by him. At times, he would notice a stray pair of eyes on him in class. When he would go to look at them the person would quickly look back towards the professor. Other times he would simply be walking down the hall with his best friend, and notice someone turning to look towards him. It confused him to no ends as he wondered exactly why people would get distracted by him. He felt like a magnet that drew metal too itself. Though he was not trying to draw people towards him. Yet, it seemed like he did not get a choice in the matter. Things began to click into place when he would compliment someone, and they would blush as bright as the sun. He was distracting the best way to put it. The reasoning was on his own looks that seemed to draw people to look at him, and his charms to draw them in further. Even when he does not realize that he is doing it.

Coming from a long line of witches and wizards that were known in academics and wizarding law, it was no surprise that Paisley had developed something of a complex from a young age. While her older brother’s personality had turned out to be closer to their mother’s, i.e. spontaneous, rebellious and creative, she’d grown closer to her father’s side. They were both more reserved and serious, quiet in their day to day lives. Both did their work with diligence and without complaint, thinking it best to just grit their teeth and dig in than wasting their breath trying to wiggle their way out of it. This, she’d learned, was a common trait in the Bellweather family. Perfection, perfection, perfection.

She could remember, when she was perhaps 6 years old, going to a family function (one of the last they had attended) and watching her aunts and uncles and cousins parading around their children. They’d boast about how they had won this contest, or gotten top of their class, or gotten such and such grade, and her mother and father had just sat quietly to the side, smiling and offering words of congratulations. She didn’t quite know why at the time, but it had bothered her quite a deal. Paisley wasn’t dumb by any means, and though Percival wasn’t quite as book smart as she was, he excelled in various other areas. Their parents were proud of them, she knew that for a fact, but why did they have to be silent when everyone else was chattering away?

When she got older, she understood: nothing her or her brother would do would ever be enough to impress the oh-so-perfect Bellweather family. Percival and Paisley were tainted goods, peas touching carrots, a foul stench overshadowing their precious potpourri; they were untouchable in the worst sense of the word. She’d clutched her tiny hands, watching the other parents laugh and pat their child’s head, the Bellweather progenies grinning from ear to ear.

When she’d returned home, she’d made a resolve to be as perfect as possible at everything she did.
One day, she reasoned, she would do something so worthy that they would have to recognize her. They would beg her family forgiveness for treating them so foully all her life, for shunning them when they’d done nothing wrong other than be born to someone who didn’t come from some ‘pure’ magical blood. One day, she’d be on top. Until then, she’d grit her teeth and dig in.

The year before Aurélie attended her first year at Hogwarts, she had gone on a trip with her adoptive grandmother. Her Nan was a great baker who even had her own patisserie shop in the South of France that they kept open during summer. Aurélie had learned a lot from her Nan about baking pies, tarts, cookies and other desserts. One day during Spring Aurélie and her Nan were on their way to a grand bakery festival near their home in Scotland. Most desserts that Nanna made were either typically French or Scottish but Aurélie wanted to add a new option to the menu. The young girl originated from Somalia in Africa, which despite growing up in Scotland from the age of one, inspired her to try an African dessert. She did not know much about her home country besides the town she was born in and had been put up for adoption in the local orphanage. After doing some thorough research on the internet about African desserts, she had found one that she liked and wanted to make with her grandmother. The dessert was called 'Kaab el ghazal', it was also known as gazelle horns for their shape. The gazelle horns were crescent-shaped cookies made from a thin pasty wrapped around a sweet cinnamon- and almond-flavoured filling. Both the exterior and the filling were typically spiced up with orange blossom water. Some of these cookies came coated in crushed nuts. Others were dipped in sugar before going through an orange blossom water bath to make the crust sticky for the sugar. These last ones were usually specifically called 'kaab el ghazal m'fenned'.

Aurélie knew her grandmother was a sweet tooth and would definitely be up to try these cookies out. While the pair took the train to the bakery festival Aurélie asked her nan about the idea and the older lady immediately agreed. "Marvelleuse idée! Which ingredients do we need?” the grandmother asked with a French accent. Aurélie had come prepared and had written down everything they needed. She took out the crumpled piece of paper from her raincoat pocket and summed up all the items from the recipe: "Well, we have the basics like flour, butter, eggs... We also still have cinnamon, salt and water of course but we still need something called Mazhar, which is some kind of spice I assume... Furthermore, we need to buy one pound of almonds which we need peeled and crushed but we could do that ourselves, they do not have to be pre-peeled. I think that's all so we don't need that many things, it might be difficult finding the Mazhar-thingy though."

Many stations and a couple hours later Aurélie and Nanna arrived at the last station and were only a short walk away from the bakery event. As the day went by the sky had grown darker and the streets quieter. The pair had bought many ingredients and a few of the newest baking utilities on the market. After many hours of roaming by colourful streets and decorated tents, Aurélie had a content feeling and a big smile on her face. Seeing her dearest grandmother so happy was all the girl could have asked for. However, they still had not managed to find that one ingredient for the kaab el ghazal cookies. The young girl had asked several salespeople but most of them did not know it. The few who had heard of Mazhar before did not sell it nor could they tell her where to find it. Until one merchant told her about a small hidden shop in a dark alley of the town. He assured the child it was safe and not far from the public square, he even offered to walk with her. Aurélie had a moment of doubt but when she looked over to her Nan a few tents further she noticed the old woman was tired and having trouble walking. Hmm, I should not bother Nanna, she is so tired... I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick peek, the girl considered. “Okay, I’ll go with you! But I have to tell my Nanna first before she starts to worry”. The friendly merchant nodded and said he would wait for her. After a few minutes, Aurélie reappeared in the merchant’s tent. The man told his son to watch the products while he was out. Off they went; Aurélie was excited that after looking for this ingredient all day she would finally be able to get it. On their way through the dark, eerie alley Aurélie told the merchant all about why she needed the item, her nanna’s bakery and why she chose those cookies in particular. The little girl was chatting away and unaware of any lurking dangers. Which at that time of night she should have been. The two had almost reached the end of the narrow street when Aurélie started to wonder where this mysterious shop was. “Where is that shop? And why is it so hidden away, people will never be able to find-“, young Aurélie asked the man but he wasn’t walking next to her any more. Before Aurélie could finish her question, she was suddenly interrupted by a loud growling behind her. For a second she stood frozen to the ground having no idea what was behind her or what trouble she had gotten herself into. Slowly the girl turned in her place and peered through the dark. The growling intensified and closed in on her. A shivering voice escaped Aurélie as she whispered: “H-hello? Wh- who’s there?” No answer. Until suddenly two glowing red eyes burned through the darkness accompanied by a loud and gruesome snarl. The last thing Aurélie saw before blacking out was an enormous animal-like hand with long, sharp claws. One of those terrifying claws slashed her arm while she felt a burning sensation surge through her abdomen. After that, the horrified girl blacked out on the ground and when she woke up, she found herself in the hospital.

Aurélie woke up to a bright light glaring in her eyes. She blinked a couple of times until her pupils had gotten used to the brightness, then she looked around to orientate herself when she saw her grandmother standing just outside the hospital chamber. It seemed like Nanna was arguing with one of the doctors but Aurélie couldn’t understand what about. The young girl felt dizzy and her vision was blurred, her head was pounding but she felt numb and hazy to most of her discomfort. A few seconds later the room went dark because the girl had fallen back asleep. The next day she woke up by the feeling of someone squeezing her hand. Carefully opening one eye she peeked through her eyelashes and saw it was her grandmother, the old lady was sitting by Aurélie’s bed reading a book and holding the girls hand. Aurélie analysed her Nan’s face. The woman had gathered many wrinkles over the years, most of them from smiling and few from frowning. While reading her book she was frowning, she did that often when she was having trouble concentrating. I wonder what she is worrying about... Aurélie felt a sore feeling in her throat and scraped it with a coarse sound. “Nan?” she managed to muster out. “Cou- could I have a glass of water?” Nanna abruptly turned her head and a big grin appeared on her face. “Oh! Ma chérie! I knew you would make it through, you are a fighter! Oh, merci mon Dieu, merci!” Nanna jumped up from her chair and hugged Aurélie tight. “OUCH, Nanna you’re hurting me!” “Sorry, sorry! My child, I am so happy...” Aurélie did not pay attention to what her grandmother said next, she was distracted by a sharp pain throbbing in the side of her waistline. The girl reached for her side and uncovered herself from the white hospital sheets. Peeking underneath her clinic robes, she noticed a big bandage with red bloodstains covering her right side. More bandages wrapped around her right upper arm had caught Aurélie’s attention. “What is- what is all this? Why does my side hurt so much, Nanna?” the little girl asked in pain. The old woman explained to the little girl how a lucky she had been. A healer from the wizarding world had been tracking the werewolf and found Aurélie after the attack. They took her to a magic hospital to treat her wounds. Her body had several injuries along her waistline and right arm. She continued to tell Aurélie how she had cuts on her arm and waist, along with bite marks, from a werewolf. Never having heard of werewolves before, it took Aurélie a while to understand what happened. The magical healer who treated her told her everything about werewolves and what would happen to her every full moon. Despite being pretty shaken up and having to accept the fact that she had been attacked and turned by an actual werewolf, the young girl was okay and safe with her grandmother. Both of them knew how to deal with this life-turning event for the future. She would have to keep it secret for muggles and hide her scars or people would ask questions, but Aurélie accepted that. In the time after the event and before the girl left for Hogwarts, she did all the research she could about werewolves and many other magical creatures she might run into.