Mount Greylock, Massachusetts
The USA
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had once occupied Mount Greylock's highest peak.
Magical and natural mist, along with a thick forest that became a maze as one approached the School of Magic, had always acted as barriers, protecting the School from innocent wanderers and enemies alike.
Presently, the magical and natural mist still haunted Mount Greylock.
But the famous American School of Magic had already ceased to occupy the mountain's peak, Madam Villanelle and Lord Black Phoenix transferring the entire castle farther north of Hogwarts.
Only a day ago, if one had found a way to the peak, despite the non-magical, ghostly mist and thick forest, then one would have found nothing but plain vastness and emptiness. It would have been like the great Ilvermorny Castle had left behind its shadow in remembrance.
Not anymore.
A massive castle had trampled on that shadow, occupying Mount Greylock once again.
Not only was it much larger than the Ilvermorny School of Magic, but it even looked more ancient, carrying a hint of grandness about it.
The most surprising thing was that this castle looked exactly similar to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
So similar, in fact, that one would have easily mistaken it for another episode of Mass Teleportation, if it weren't for one simple fact.
The Hogwarts School of Magic still existed in the Scottish Highlands, its vast grounds becoming a field of death and terror brought by the Witch of Endor's Black Death.
So, the Hogwarts standing tall on Mount Greylock's peak couldn't be the same Hogwarts.
Nor could the people residing within it, despite carrying an uncanny similarity to the real Hogwarts' students, professors, and other Wizards and Witches, be the same.
Madam Villanelle, wearing bright, purple robes, walked across this grand Hogwarts' corridors, heading toward the Great Hall, black-uniformed Wizards and Witches — soldiers — rushing past her in either direction.
She had the same black skin and gray-silver eyes that were known to the rest of this world.
She carried the same Wand and status.
But she was different.
She was a Pillar.
As she entered the Great Hall, more notable people appeared in her vision.
On one side stood Pillar Voldemort and the most trusted Death Eaters he had brought along with him.
On the other side was the rest of the world, led by none other than the Chosen One himself.
Harry Potter, a 32-year-old man in the Pillar Timeline, looked toward Madam Villanelle as she entered, his wife, Ginny Weasley, standing next to him.
The reincarnated Biblical Witch ignored the two sides, though.
She neither answered to Voldemort nor to Harry Potter, who, ironically, wore the same uniforms, working toward the same goal.
Instead, Madam Villanelle walked past them and eyed the woman suspended by chains, hooked by the wrists, blood trickling down onto the stone platform where the Professors feasted before streaming down the stairs.
It was another Madam Villanelle — the one who had betrayed the Order of the Immortal Lotus.
Sensing her presence, the Mirror Villanelle opened her eyes, death lingering within her pupils.
The traitor smiled.
"You… will lose…" the Mirror Villanelle said. "No matter… what you throw at us… You will lose."
Silence.
"Crucio!" one of Voldemort's underlings fired the Spell.
Screams flooded the Great Hall as the Mirror Villanelle trembled, the hooks of the magical chains tearing her flesh and bones with every tremor in her body.
Then, with a last gasp, the traitor passed out.
Madam Villanelle looked away from her Mirror self with no expression on her face, her gaze going up.
Suspended under the clear sky was a coffin, a whitish glow surrounding it as it spun slowly on its axis.
The Mirror Sirius Black was confined to that coffin, becoming a gateway between the Mirror and Pillar timelines.
Now that they had already arrived here, the Mirror Timeline couldn't do anything to them.
And the only ones who could do something about it were already trapped as well.
A trap that they were never going to leave… not alive.
Pillar Villanelle turned around and faced Voldemort. "There's a bug outside the planet," she said. "One of the Yellow Warlock's underlings. Go play with him."
Voldemort frowned.
Bellatrix rushed forward, twisting her lips. "How dare you give orders to the Dark Lord?!" she hissed. "You are not even worthy to be in his presence…"
"Now-now, Bellatrix," Voldemort hissed, pulling the Witch back with a hand on her shoulders. "Let's not forget our hospitality. We must not forget that it is Madam Villanelle who has brought us here. One could even say… she is the true leader of this escapade."
A smothered laugh crawled across the Death Eaters.
Opposite them, Harry and the others frowned.
"Are you going or not?" Villanelle asked.
Voldemort's smile flickered. "Have you lost your mind seeing yourself getting tortured?" he asked. "Or do you truly think yourself the stronger between us? The Order might have trapped my Mirror image, along with the other three fools, but their underlings are still about.
"We are Pillars but not Immortals. Will you be able to put up a front against an entire world's might if it came to that… without any casualties on our side? Do not forget that they have outsiders among them. What if Yellow Warlock has sought external help?"
Madam Villanelle looked toward Voldemort blankly, sensing Harry's silence from behind her.
Which meant that, surprisingly, Harry agreed with his archenemy.
They did not know that two of the strongest of these outsiders were on their side, though.
Madam Villanelle did not incline to reveal the Order's trump cards yet. "Arrangements have been made to deal with such a scenario," she said instead. "Yellow Warlock is incapable of bringing an outsider to the timeline anymore. The Ultramarines have already cleared most of the Dark Alliance HQ, MACUSA. If his underlings are hiding there, then they will be rooted out as well."
Narrowing his eyes, Voldemort looked toward a corner of the Great Hall along with the others.
Madam Villanelle looked over her shoulder and found Lieutenant Varro silently standing in that corner with his tall back against the wall.
With a metallic creak, he lifted his head and faced them from behind his helmet.
[Squad Invicta is moving toward the Yellow Warlock's secret lair,] Varro reported. [Squad Aegis is on its way to back them up.]
With that, he resumed his previous stance of silence.
Madam Villanelle returned her eyes to Voldemort and raised her brows.
Voldemort met her stare with his narrowed, slitted pupils before suddenly becoming a cloud of black smoke.
"Pray that you are right, Madam," the Dark Lord's words echoed across the Great Hall. "Because there are no absolutes in a War."
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