the inventor ➝ fantastic beasts

FIVE - THE RESCUE

If St. Mungos's is all it's cracked up to be, then I'm going to be cured in no time.

But then again, what is the definition of "cured"? That I stop having my "delusions", which are really just my incredible ideas that people refuse to accept? That I'm bearable to be around - in other words, boring, and just like the rest of them? Why would I want to blend in with everyone else, anyhow? That I am - Merlin forbid - normal?

These are the thoughts running through my head as I wait to be collected to be moved on. Sighing, I turn my head to look around the cells one last time. I feel as if I should say goodbye to the old place. After all, it has been my home for nearly five months. I suppose I've got used to it, even become accustomed to the systems and the way of living.

Then I shake my head, and fold my hands over my stomach. I couldn't be happier to be getting out.

Just a few minutes later, two Aurors turn up at my cell, and I get up so fast I see white spots, my world tilting sideways.

They flank me, and bind my hands with an Incarcerous charm. One of them places a large hand on my shoulder, the other keeps his wand pointed at me, should I lash out and try to escape on my way to a facility where I will be looked after. 

Honestly, there's no trust in this place.

As they started marching towards the lift, guiding me along, I steal a last glance over my shoulder. My cell looks barren and empty - even more so when I know I'm not coming back this time. I start to wonder who will inhabit the cell over the years when I'm gone.

I do admit, it feels odd to be leaving. But it feels better to know I'm moving somewhere better. Somewhere where I will be cured.

Once again, I ponder the meaning of the word "cured", and if I actually want to be. Do I want to be imprisoned once again, just in a better environment so it doesn't seem as much like imprisonment? I half want to beat up these guards and escape so I can continue with my work, and actually get to creating the potion - but I half want to go to St. Mungo's, somewhere where I'll be taken care of, somewhere where I can be safe. 

This is a regular occurrence with me. Half of me, the sane, rational half, battling it out with the insane, reckless half. The first time I remember it happening was when I was fourteen, in the Ilvermorny Christmas holidays. That was the day I found out about my parents. To this day, I still have conflicted feelings towards them. Come to think about it, it wasn't long after that that Ray --

I flinch at the memory, and push it far down as quickly as I can. 

The boys are ushering me into the lift now, and I distract myself with saying a silent goodbye to the place.

Then the lift is rattling up, and the cells are out of sight in moments.

I haven't been upstairs since I arrived. I forgot how beautiful it is. It's all ornate gold accents and surfaces, magnificent staircases and giant golden eagle statues. Everyone milling around has a clear purpose and function, and each of them are dressed to kill. But the most spectacular thing about it is the never-ending atrium of offices above, extended with magic so it seems to go on forever. A giant stone archway frames the front doors. Light floods in from the giant windows, and the lifts are constantly shooting up and down. 

Hell, I would work here just for the view. It's a spectacle.

I am lead to the office, where I am finally reunited with my confiscated belongings. A delirious grin spreads across my face as I sift through them. My ebony black cauldron is the probably biggest thing in there.