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Chapter
One: The Englishman

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June of 1938
Istanbul, Ararat Mountains

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄L𝐋. Eleven-year-old. Emira Demerci looked up to find her fourteen-year-old sister Kadri, standing before her, dagger at her neck.

"You have grown weak, küçük olan ," Kadri said, triumphantly. She pushed the dagger softly against her sister's throat. Emira made no effort to stop her, the Elder Witch watching from her throne.

Emira's eyes concentrated on the dagger, in a split second, the ends heated up and Kadri felt her hands burn. " Gümüş yanmak," the youngster muttered.

Her sister dropped the dagger beside her, Emira shoved Kadri off, stumbling on her feet as she summoned her black kılıç.

"Foul!" Kadri shrieked at her younger sister. Her eyes begged towards the Elder Witch, who did not move one bit. "No summoning or magic!"

"That is enough. Kadri. Emira." the Elder Witch acknowledged the girls. An eyebrow raised. "Dismissed." The training ended. The courtyard where the sisters were training, immediately filed in with other witches, whom also resumed their own practices.

"That was a fair fight, Kadri." Emira said, attempting to break the tense between her older sister.

"I failed," Kadri replied quietly, "Again."

"You put on a great show! That wasn't half of what you've got!" Emira exclaimed, eyes huge at the disbelief of her sister.

"Mother would be dissapointed."

Emira did not reply. For years their Mother, one of the best Grand Witches of their country, had neglected them. Abandoned them in Türk Karanlık Cadıları ( better known as Türankad , amongst the students and other magical communities nearby ) , Turkish Dark Witches: an organization that collected young witches and trained them to continue out the sorceries of Turkey, guarding and protecting the evils to not dwell too much out into the Non-Magic Republic of Turkey, but their mother had left to the mountains of Istanbul, and she vowed she would only return to collect her daughters had they made her proud.

It had been nine years since then. Kadri had been lucky to mantain a prestigious reputation as a skilled witch within the regions, and Emira excelled at her spiritual work and most battle training. The sisters raised each other, and their own, and the Elder Witch had taken a liking to them both, so the girls had grown close to the grounds of the school.

Despite their school being praised for its Dark Arts and how rigorous their training had been, the witches and the professors were all kind and logical. They were not like the rumors outside the grounds, and most of the students there were all fleeing from their own specs of villages. After the first Muggle War, the Ottoman Empire had fallen, and all ties of the Ottomans to the witches died out. They killed out every single relation, and most went into hiding, swearing into secrecy that they would never help the muggle world ever again.

Emira's head snapped up. The brunette had taken a seat on one of the wooden branches that carved into a bench, an apple in her hand to quelch her from the small hunger. "Inside! Now! Defense positions, savaşçılar!" A professor spoke. He had a great black staff, a big crow perched on top, its wings and beak gawking at the witches who stared in surprise at the man, Mister Cänya. He taught them Classification of Creatures and Disembodiment. He was eccentric, but he was very smart and funny, so to see him so serious on a bright casual day was alarming.

A couple of other olders students, maybe seventeen or sixteen, no less, had started clearing the year, ushering them all inside the hallroom, were they immediately took charge alongside the teachers, - Sisters of the House - they were called, their duties were similar of a prefect's, if you may, and there were three from all three distinctions the school divided.

"Who was that outside?" Emira heard one of the girls speak, Arya. She was the niece of Madame Azriel, the school's representative and Head Teacher.

"No one!" Murikël spoke. She was a plump woman at the age of sixty, an old witch who resorted to nursing the girls now. She had stories to tell and was always up for trickery, despite being an old hag.

"Was it a muggle? Or a mudblood?" Another witch, no older than eight said from the other side of the room. By now, every witch was sorted into their own groups, eyes upfront towards the authorities that were to comfort and protect them.

As if no one at Türancad was capable of doing so. Each student had mastered wandless magic by the age of seven, and a wand was nothing more than an accessory for them, if they were being modest, they'd use it to get better aim with Charms, but otherwise, everything was exceeding one's expectations at the school.

A sharp gasp escaped Murikël's lips, "Eber! Why would you say such a name?"

The girl scowled, but her face was burning with red hot embarassment. Emira composed a laugh within, but Kadri let it escape her own mouth.

"We never," Murikël now moved her attention from the girl to the entire room, "-Never discriminate. It is wrong. Muggles do not have filth in their blood, aşklarım. That is absurd!"

"But if it is the truth?" Emira questioned. She did not mean for it to be said aloud and she could feel her sister's poise self freezing, expression glaring into her head.

Murikël did not answer. She simply took one look at Emira, "No discrimination whatsoever - we mind our own, as do they. Shall they mix with us, we do not interfere in their business."

Murmurs broke through the crowd of girls. "Why would mudbloods exist anyways? For them to exist you'd have to mix with those ölümlüler-"

"Because love conquers all," a voice drawls. Shudders creep up by Emira's shoulders as everyone averts their attention towards the noise's emissor, Professor Karlan; a tall and slender man with a head-wrap of a deep brown color that matched his eyes, beard greying and physique frailing - however he spoke with such somberness that it spooked everyone. That was of course, whenever he did speak. A wise man who taught Enchantment and Melodies - he kept a close eye on the sisters especially. "Simdi sessiz ol. AramzIda bir Ingiliz var."

"It appears we have a guest," Murikël's faint voice echoes through the hallways. "Ladies. Ateşi pozisyonları." The witches retreated from their defense positions and neatly presented themselves. "May I present to you, the Headmaster of the prestigious Wizarding school Hogwarts - Albus Dumbledore."

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Sat in the quarters of the Elder Witch, accompanied by Murikël, Mister Canya and Professor Kalan, Albus Dumbledore stirs his cup of fresh brewed tea. "I am in search of a young witch. I believe she is skillful and talented, gracious and kind, and I am in admiration for her contribution towards the exterior affairs she had recently handled with the magic Ottoman and their downfall. May I meet this young heroine?"

The Elder Witch pressed a smile, "Of course. It would be a pleasure. We might have the witch for you, sir."

A simple nod towards Murikël and the caretaker's voice echoed through the castle. Kadri!" She called across the court for the war heroine's attention.

The decade before, Emira had been nothing mere than a child as was Kadri when the Ottoman's empire collapsed. Her sister and her mother were one of the very few witches that meddled with muggle affairs.

Out came Kadri, hair rustling against the cool breeze and brows bushy enough to hide eyelids of a droopy teenager that matured sooner than anyone would wish for. "Sen aradın?" She bowed.

"Yes. Master Dumbledore here would be delighted to care for your schooling in Scotland," the Elder Witch informed the girl.

"Hogwarts they call it. A wizarding school for all! You can explore and create vast opportunities for yourself in a foreign place, dear!" Head Teacher Azriel gushed. "What do you think darling?" She had fawned over exchange schooling when she was once a young witch herself, alas Turkey was far too behind for such advanced measures, and now the generation could enjoy such small leisure and don't take the advantages of such!

Dumbledore studied her face. A look of worrisome and anxiety waved all over the witch's face as she turned to her professors. "Cadılar savaşının bu yüzyılda olması gerektiğinin ve bu yıl da olacağının sinyalini verdiler," she paused cautiously and regarded the Englishman before her, "They have appointed me to be the witch of Turkey. If I am not present, the war follows me to Ireland."

"Scotland," Dumbledore corrects.

Kadri shoots a polite look, she turns to her professors. Murikël and Professor Kalan seemed to have recall of the tradition. "I cannot let Turkey fail. My mother will be watching from the councils." The girl turns to Dumbledore, "I'm afraid I'll have to turn down this request. You may enquire for others. There are much more older and younger witches as skillful as I that would be happy to take the role, your excellency."

Murikël hides her disappointment. Clearing her throat she asks, "Well... I suppose Bayım Dumbledore has any witch to understudy?"

Dumbledore ponders closely. Perhaps, this witch was not the witch that Dumbledore had seen in his visions. He took one look at the girl again. The one in his vision shared the same hair, the hook of the nose, the twitch of mouths... Perhaps her sister? But what if this, hypothetical sister did exist, would she have the same traits enough for the persuasion and diffusion of a dark wizard that would roam the streets of Hogsmeade? It was merely a vision, and Dumbledore was crumbling.

"Does this pupil have a sister?"

Just enough, the Elder Witch smiles so quickly it is difficult to see, "Emira."

Right on cue, a younger witch of slender arms and porcelain chocolate eyes appear by the doorframe. Her hair is neatly combed but her uniform is rugged and muddy. "I sense I am needed," she grinned tenderly.

This was the young version of a brave, vengeful witch in his vision. A diffuser, a persuasion, a blockade from the darkness. Dumbledore's eyes lit up at her, "Indeed you are."

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A/N

short and dry, leaving this for the ghostreaders xx
also, this is available on ao3. i've got the same
user here bye! see you next winter as im so
inactive xx, probably active again after november
exams and a load of reading! ! woo...
ps: unedited, apologize for the mistakes. its 11:20pm
and i'm pulling this through with 4 missing
assignments xx