Story Title: Is The Witch In Me Gone Now?

School and Theme: Mahoutokoro, Little Whinging (4 Privet Drive)

Main Prompt: [Setting] Muggle playground

Additional Prompts: [Word] Superior

Year: Stand-In for Year 3

Wordcount: 2612

AN: This story is consistent with Fantastic-Beasts-Canon, but it's not necessary to have watched FB in order to understand the plot.

Thanks so much to my amazing beta, Mason! (NinjaDevil2000).

Every morning at 6am, Mrs Barebone got up, dressed and then walked downstairs to have breakfast before the Second Salemer's Church was crowded with children. Then, at 6:30, she placed the leaflets on the tables and woke Chastity up so she could prepare the soup for the orphans.

Then, at 7am, she went outside to get the post and to see if anything important had been delivered. Often, the mailbox was full of blackmail and hoaxes. The Second Salemers weren't popular in New York. Too many people were afraid to hear the truth. It was far easier to claim that what Mary Lou promoted was "unlikely", "ridiculous" and "pathetic". There weren't many people that were ready to face the truth of what lay ahead of them: A takeover by witches and wizards.

She looked through the letters, tossed half of them into the bin and the others into her purse before she walked upstairs to wake Credence and Modesty.

But when she entered the room that Modesty shared with her older sister, both beds were empty.

Usually, Modesty would sleep until 7:30 – this was when her mother woke her up every morning. But this morning was different. It had started with a tickling in her toes. And then, her entire body had begun to tickle. She could feel that something exciting was going to happen, but she wasn't sure what that was.

Not many exciting things had happened in the seven-year-old's life yet. Mary Lou had adopted her two years ago. Her life here was completely different from what she remembered of her previous home. She had lived with her ten siblings in a tiny apartment in the suburban area. There hadn't been enough space, clothes or food for the children. Still, Modesty missed her old home. Although Mary Lou always had enough food for her three adopted children and they each had their own bed, she would have preferred to stay with her brothers and sisters.

She liked Credence almost as much as her real siblings, but she was afraid of Mary Lou and couldn't stand Chastity. If she could, she would run away with Credence, maybe back to her old home.

Credence sometimes spoke about running away, and Modesty was afraid that one day, he might leave her behind with Mary Lou and Chastity. This was why she always went to Credence's room first after Mary Lou woke her up, to see if he was still there.

But not this morning. She glanced over to Chastity's bed. She was still sleeping. Modesty looked outside. It was still dark and she assumed that it had to be way before the usual time that she woke up.

She quietly got out of her bed and walked outside, careful not to wake Chastity up, who'd surely tell her to go back to sleep. When she had made it out of the room, she paused for a moment. It was dark in the stairwell and it seemed that even Mary Lou hadn't woken up yet. Modesty lightly jumped down the staircases and went to the door. She wasn't allowed to go outside alone, unless it was to hand out leaflets. She had never been able to go to the places that she wanted to.

Carefully, she looked around. If she was back before it was bright her mother wouldn't even know she had been gone.

She went down the street. She only knew a couple of streets in this area, those where she was standing with the other children to hand out the leaflets. But she didn't take any of these streets this morning. Instead, she turned to the left. Credence had explained her that her previous home was in the East of New York. Modesty didn't know what direction East was, but she thought that this street looked just right.

She turned left a couple of more times and then a couple of times right until it started to get brighter. Soon, the sun would be up, and she still hadn't reached the house.

Disappointed, she sat down on the paved street. She had hoped that she could see her brothers and sisters, but instead, she had ended up somewhere in New York, far away from both of her homes. Tears started coming up, and Modesty wiped them away. She got up again and looked around. She was in a residential quarter and across the street, there was a playground. It was entirely empty except for a raven that was picking in the sand.

She crossed the street and approached the bird.

"Hello," she whispered.

It looked at her, gave a caw and then jumped away. It seemed to be hurt in some way and was limping.

Modesty flinched as a shadow appeared behind her. She jumped to her feet and turned around.

A tall man was standing behind her. He was dressed in a long, silvery cloak and wore a black hat.

"Good morning," he said.

Modesty backed away.

"It's alright," he said. "I just came by to give you something."

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

He smiled at her. "I understand," he said. "But maybe I can talk to your mother?"

Modesty shook her head and bit her lip. She made a step backwards.

The man was taking something out of his pocket. "Can you read?" he asked friendly.

Modesty shook her head and curiously eyed the envelope he was offering to her. Nothing was written on it except for one word that Modesty deciphered as her name.

"Take it," he encouraged her. "It's for you."

Modesty just stood there, her hands in her pockets.

"Modesty, why don't you show me the way to your home and I'll talk to your mother."

"I don't have a mother," Modesty said hostilely. She wondered why the man knew her name. "I have Mary Lou."

"And where do you live?" the wizard asked friendly.

"Second Salemer's Church," Modesty said shyly.

The wizard paled. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Modesty turned around. The man didn't make a trustworthy impression, and Mary Lou would be mad enough for her running away – if she found out Modesty had spoken with someone...

"Modesty, do you believe in witchcraft?" The man appeared in front of her.

Modesty looked at him, but she couldn't help being intrigued. Witchcraft was something she was very familiar with. "Yes," she said. "It's evil and destroys us."

The man looked at her thoughtfully. Then he crouched down to the ground and put his hand on the raven that was still jumping over the sand, trying to fly away. Modesty watched as the man placed his hand on the bird and closed his eyes. He muttered some words Modesty couldn't understand, and when he withdrew his hands the bird made two more jumps and then rose into the air. The man got up and looked at Modesty, who gazed at the bird in disbelief.

"Do you really think it is evil and destructive?" he asked.

Modesty looked at him. "How did you do that?"

"I'm a wizard. And you, Modesty, you are a witch."

Modesty stared at him. Then, she shook her head. "No," she whispered. "That can't be true."

She backed away. She was afraid. Afraid of this stranger and of what he'd told her. She was not a witch. She just knew she wasn't.

And yet, there was this feeling in her that told her that he was telling the truth. Somehow, she had always felt it. Felt it, but never known it.

He gently put the envelope into her pocket. "Take it home," he said quietly. "Read it, everything you need to know is in there. I will come back in a couple of days and help you prepare for your first school year. But I think the news have to sink in before, or do you want me to come with me right away?"

Modesty shook her head. She didn't want the man to come to her home, not now, not ever.

"Fine," the man said. "Do you need help finding the way back?"

Modesty narrowed her eyes and shook her head, but he drew a wand out of his pocket and swished it anyways.

To Modesty's astonishment, golden sprinkles appeared at the end of the wand and they began to spread on the street.

"Follow the sprinkles," the man told her. "They'll lead you to the Church. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Modesty shook her head.

"Then I'll see you in a couple of days. If you need something, ask for Torrance Morgan."

Modesty turned around, eager to get away from the man, but still glanced over her shoulder before she left the playground. The man had disappeared.

Modesty ran the entire way home. She wanted to throw the letter into the bin as soon as she was home, and make sure that Mary Lou didn't find out about it, but she was distracted by Chastity who was waiting at the door, prepared to rebuke her 'little sister'.

"Where have you been? Mother has worried sick about you!"

"I was just playing a little bit outside – " Modesty was still panting and tried to get past her sister, but Chastity blocked the door.

"Playing? On a Saturday morning, when the streets are crowded and we can reach more people than during the week? Everyone else is already outside with their leaflets and you – "

"I know, I know, I'll be with them in just a minute!"

"Mother is upstairs. Apologise to her."

"I will, I will."

Finally, Chastity stepped aside and let Modesty go inside.

Modesty looked around. On the tables there were empty soup bowls and only one pile of leaflets left. She swallowed, scared about what Mary Lou would say to her, and went into her room. She wanted to hide the letter under her bed. There was a chance Mary Lou would find it if she just put it in the bin.

She crawled under the bed. The thick layer of dust made her sneeze. She was just about to put the letter into the corner and crawl back again when she heard the door open and froze in the movement.

"Modesty?"

Shaking, Modesty crawled backwards. She left the letter under the bed and wiped her hands off on her clothes. It didn't do any good though; her entire body was covered in dust. She sneezed again.

She looked at Mary Lou, her eyes full of guilt. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Mary Lou's mouth was thin and her voice so quiet and soft that it scared Modesty.

"You ran away. You know you aren't supposed to go outside on your own."

"Yes, I know. I'm very sorry."

For several seconds, Mary Lou didn't speak and Modesty watched her nervously.

"What were you trying to hide under your bed?"

"N-Nothing, Mother."

Mary Lou shot her a suspicious glare and Modesty knew that she had seen through her lie. The woman bent down and looked under the bed. It took her only a moment to spot the envelope in the corner. She glanced at Modesty.

"Fetch me that."

Modesty bit her lip and crawled under her bed again. Her eyes were teary as she handed the envelope to Mary Lou – she wasn't sure if it was due to the dust or the fear.

Mary Lou opened the envelope without even looking at Modesty. Inside was a piece of parchment and Mary Lou began to read. The more she read, the darker her face got.

Finally, she let her hand fall and looked at Modesty again.

"You have associated with wizards."

"I didn't want to, Mother – "

"It says – " Mary Lou swallowed. Her voice was shaking as she went on. "It says you're a witch."

Modesty burst into tears. "Yes, Mother, but I swear, I didn't know."

Mary Lou didn't take her eyes off Modesty. The girl looked on the ground and couldn't stop crying.

"Come downstairs," Mary Lou said softly.

Modesty slowly followed her down the stairs. She kept her head down and didn't dare look up.

Mary Lou led her to the fireplace in the corner of the room. There was still some embers inside. Mary Lou put some more of the wood that was piled up next to the fireplace into the fire and lit up a match. After a minute, the fire blazed.

Mary Lou turned around to Modesty. She looked at the girl with disgust, and handed her the parchment and the envelope.

"Burn it," she said remotely.

Modesty hesitated only half a second before tossing the letter into the fire and watching as the parchment turned into ashes.

Then, she looked at her mother again. Mary Lou's eyes were cold and her voice was stiff as she said, "I will not have a witch in my Church. There is yet a way we can remedy you."

Modesty's heart was beating fast. She was afraid, both of being a witch and of what Mary Lou was going to do now.

"Kneel," Mary Lou said.

Modesty hastened to obey.

"Stretch your hands out."

Hesitantly, Modesty stretched them into the air.

"Further," Mary Lou said.

Modesty stretched her arms a little bit further.

"Further. Put them into the fireplace."

Modesty glanced at her.

"Do it. It will expel all the wickedness in you."

Modesty swallowed. She closed her eyes as she carefully put her hands into the fireplace. The heat was almost unbearable.

"You need to touch the flames, Modesty."

Modesty screwed up her eyes and put her hands down, until she touched to fire with her fingers. At once, she retracted them and jumped back.

Mary Lou took her arms and helped her hands back into the fireplace. She held Modesty's arms in a firm grip, making it impossible for her to withdraw her hands again.

Modesty began to scream, since there was nothing else she could do; she couldn't avoid the pain, and it was unbelievable – beyond anything she had experienced so far. Her face began to sweat and her eyes were tearing. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst.

It seemed like hours until Mary Lou let go of her hands and allowed her to take them out of the fire. "There will be some scars," Mary Lou said softly. "But better shallow scars than being damned for the rest of your life."

Modesty wiped her eyes with her arm. Her hands were throbbing, but Modesty couldn't even feel any pain. She sank down to the ground and tried to cool her hands down on the floor while her mother got up and walked to the other end of the room. She came back carrying a large leather belt.

She bent down to Modesty and helped her get to her feet.

Modesty looked at her adoptive mother with red, tired eyes. "Is the witch in me gone now, Mother?"

Mary Lou walked around Modesty until she was standing right behind her. "Not yet, I'm afraid," she whispered. "Go upstairs to your room, I will be with you in a minute."

Modesty walked upstairs. Her hands were trembling, every tremor sending a new wave of pain through her arms. She hesitantly tried to close her fingers or squeeze her hands together, anything to make the pain diminish, even slightly.

Mary Lou turned around and put the fire out with a large bucket of water. She didn't stop pouring water over the flames until the ashes had stopped glowing. Then she picked up the belt again and went upstairs. The belt's buckle was clanging against the banister.