Aurelian, Hestia, and Flora didn't stick around to listen to Bill Clinton's delusions of grandeur. Leaving the arrogant Muggle president behind in his office, the three slipped out of the Oval Office in complete silence, closely following in the footsteps of the wizard named Ulises Kerrigan. If anyone could reveal to them why such a high-ranking wizard was willingly working as a lapdog for the U.S. government, it was him.
Kerrigan walked briskly through the elegant hallways of the White House. Beneath the fabric of his gray suit, he clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails dug into his skin.
Inside, his mind was filled with nothing but thoughts of anger, hatred, and fury. He couldn't understand—he refused to accept—why his once-proud Order had voluntarily subjected itself to serving as bodyguards for these pathetic monkeys.
Ulises glanced sideways at the aides, secretaries, and Secret Service agents passing by him. Mere talking monkeys who lacked the Gift. It disgusted him; it made him nauseous just to breathe the same air as them, to stand beside them, and to have to feign submission. But, with discipline forged over the years, he managed to resist his dark impulses to draw his wand and slaughter them all right there on the spot.
He remembered the day he graduated from Ilvermorny with highest honors. When he joined the Order, his chest swelled with pride. He expected glory, honor, and epic adventures all over the world—exactly as his late grandfather had told him in the stories of yesteryear.
"How naive and incredibly innocent I was back then," Ulysses thought bitterly.
People in the hallways walked past him or quickly looked away, intimidated by the expression of rage and anger that distorted the advisor's face. He'd been acting as a fucking bodyguard for these non-magical leaders for ten damn years. Ten years of cleaning up their messes, protecting them from magical threats, and listening to their stupid speeches about superiority over and over again. Ulises was utterly convinced that this humiliation and subjugation had been one of the main causes of his beloved grandfather's death; the old wizard simply couldn't bear to see what his once-glorious Order had become.
Pushing open a set of double doors, Ulises stepped out into the White House Rose Garden.
The cool afternoon breeze hit his face. He stopped next to some intricately shaped bushes, pulled out a silver lighter, and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag, feeling how the Muggle object calmed his frayed nerves a little.
He might hate these monkeys with all his soul, but he wasn't stupid. He recognized their usefulness and, above all, how extremely dangerous they could be if not handled with due care. The weapons he'd seen were lethal—not to mention their paranoia.
Ulises smiled wryly as he exhaled gray smoke into the sky. The Kerrigans were an ancient, noble, and powerful pure-blood family that had helped found MACUSA itself centuries ago. And now, the magical government had allowed him and his kin to be reduced to mere bodyguards with glorified titles. It was an insult to their noble blood.
But things were about to change. That was why he was so pleased to see movements like Gellert Grindelwald's rising from the ashes in Europe.
His family had already subtly supported the Dark Lord in the past, during his first campaign of terror, and this time would be no exception. Gellert Grindelwald had a very bloody score to settle with MACUSA dating back to his capture in New York in the 1920s, and Ulises, pulling the strings from the epicenter of power thanks to his privileged position, was going to very kindly help him settle it.
Ulises flashed a wicked smile. He flicked his cigarette onto the grass and crushed it hard with the sole of his leather shoe. He looked up at the sky, where the clouds were tinged with the colors of sunset.
"The moment is approaching," Ulysses said in a low voice, almost like a prayer. "The moment when we magicians will stop hiding like rats and exterminate these disgusting monkeys once and for all. I just have to be a little more patient."
Satisfied with his schemes, Ulysses turned, preparing to reenter the building and return to his boring job as a monkey keeper.
However, his keen instincts kicked in when he sensed a fluctuation—a magical presence right behind him, near the branches of a large oak tree. He whipped his head around, his eyes scanning the garden, but the presence had already vanished, as if it had never existed.
That was extremely suspicious.
Ulysses walked slowly toward the oak tree.
"Who's there?" he asked in a cold, authoritative voice. "Come out of wherever you are, if you don't want any trouble."
In a movement imperceptible to the human eye, he pulled his wand from his suit sleeve. He surveyed his surroundings with great care, scanning every shadow and every leaf, but he didn't detect that magical signature again. Everything was perfectly silent, except for the distant murmur of Washington traffic.
Ulises snorted, lowering his wand slightly. He shook his head and rubbed his temple.
"I'm getting old… maybe the paranoia of these good-for-nothings is finally rubbing off on me," he whispered to himself. He turned on his heel and went back inside the White House, closing the garden door behind him.
Up above, hidden in one of the thickest and tallest branches of the oak tree, Aurelian, Hestia, and Flora watched as the wizard disappeared. As soon as the wizard was out of sight, Flora shrank back a little and looked at her husband with a regretful expression.
"I'm so sorry, my love," Flora apologized in a barely audible whisper. "I let my foot slip out from under the cloak for a moment while I was adjusting myself on the branch."
Aurelian gently stroked her cheek, brushing off the incident with a smile.
"No problem, my dear Flora, nothing happened," Aurelian whispered to her. "But let this serve as a lesson. We have to be more attentive and cautious around the wizards we encounter while traveling. This continent isn't the playground we thought it was. They have very skilled wizards and witches."
Hestia and Flora nodded solemnly, clutching their own wands beneath their cloaks.
Aurelian turned his gaze toward the White House, his mind working to make sense of what he had seen and heard from this Ulysses. He had just discovered that the U.S. president's magical liaison was a supremacist—an advocate for the magical race and possibly for Grindelwald—determined to overthrow the government from within.
Something very big and dark was definitely brewing in this country. And Aurelian Gaunt was about to stick his neck out.
A couple of hours later, after finishing his tedious shift as the president's helpful advisor, Ulises Kerrigan walked away from the White House and into the streets of the capital.
He walked to the most neglected parts of downtown Washington, D.C., stopping in front of an old house that looked as if it were about to collapse. To Muggles, it was an abandoned building; but to those who possessed magic, it was an undetectable hideout.
Ulises pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside, brushing off a bit of dust that had settled on his expensive suit.
The interior was dark, illuminated only by the light from the streetlamps filtering through the windows. In the center of the room, waiting silently for him, stood a tall figure wrapped in a dark coat.
It was Percival Graves, the former Director of Magical Security at MACUSA many years ago, and one of Ulysses's grandfather's most outstanding students.
However, the man standing before him was not the same untouchable wizard that Ulises remembered. The left half of Percival's face was completely covered by thick bandages, concealing his entire eye. Furthermore, above the collar of his shirt, hideous, bulging veins with a sickly blackish-green hue crawled across his skin.
Ulises examined him from head to toe and couldn't help but let out a mocking smile.
"Just look at you…" said Ulises, walking slowly around him. "What the hell happened to the great and almighty Percival Graves? You look terrible, my friend."
Percival clenched his fists, his breathing growing heavier and more erratic. He growled like a wounded animal and narrowed his only visible eye, fixing him with a hate-filled glare.
"It was a gift," Percival hissed, his voice hoarse and somewhat raspy, as if his vocal cords had also been injured. "A damned gift from that bastard Aurelian Gaunt's basilisk."
Ulysses stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. His mocking smile vanished for a moment.
"A basilisk?" he repeated, incredulous. "Merlin… You were incredibly lucky to survive a direct bite from that beast. There's no known cure for basilisk venom."
Graves let out a bitter, dry laugh, touching his neck where the veins were still throbbing.
"It wasn't luck. It's thanks to Gellert that I'm still alive," Percival confessed, a note of devotion creeping into his voice. "Without his quick intervention and his magic to stabilize the venom in my blood, I'd already be three meters under the ground, and we wouldn't be having this pleasant conversation. I owe him my life… again."
Ulises nodded slowly, finally understanding why such a high-ranking former MACUSA Auror had become one of Grindelwald's most loyal attack dogs. Debts like these were unbreakable. He could respect that.
Regaining his composure, Ulises reached into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out a thick, unmarked sealed envelope and handed it to Percival.
Graves took it quickly, checking the document before tucking it into his own coat.
"Is everything ready on your end?" Percival asked, his tone growing more stern.
"Everything is exactly where it should be," Ulysses assured him with a cold, calculating smile. "The defenses, the schedules, and the routes—it's all in that letter. Gellert and his men will enter without resistance when the time comes."
Percival nodded, satisfied with the information. He walked past Ulysses, heading toward the back door of the ruined house.
"I thank you for all this, Ulysses. Lord Grindelwald will know how to reward your loyalty."
Ulysses turned to watch him leave, adjusting the cuffs of his suit.
"I don't do this for rewards, Graves. The Kerrigans will always stand for magical supremacy, and we will always support the wizards and witches who have the guts to pursue that goal. It is our birthright to rule over the apes."
Before Percival could cross the threshold, Ulysses couldn't resist the temptation to take one last jab at his old friend. He stepped forward quickly, patted him on the back, and smiled mischievously.
"Oh, and good luck with your injuries, Percival. I hope that eye is of any use to you."
Percival tensed from head to toe at Ulysses' touch. His right hand rose instinctively, brushing the bandages covering half his face, reminding him of Nythoros' fangs and the humiliation of his defeat. Without saying another word, the former Auror spun on his heel and disappeared from the old house with a loud crack!
Ulises was left alone in the darkness of the abandoned hall. He let out a sinister laugh that echoed off the peeling walls.
As he walked toward the exit, a thought crossed his mind. According to the rumors and reports he'd intercepted from MACUSA, a certain Aurelian Gaunt had crossed the pond and was currently vacationing in the country.
Ulysses smiled maliciously. It would definitely be an extremely entertaining and bloody spectacle to watch Percival Graves try to exact his revenge and fight that British lord. He was dying to see it.
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