Holy shit, what in Merlin’s name was going on? I needed to find a wizard to talk to as soon as possible because I was utterly lost. I was in the future, the far future, and things weren’t making any sense. Had wizards decided to reveal ourselves to the muggles? Perhaps something had happened that was impossible to cover up, an entire flock of escaped dragons or…fiendfyre burning down all of London.

I shuddered, nope that wasn’t worth thinking about.

What had happened with Grindelwald? Had he won his war and overthrown the International Confederation of Wizards? I’d heard that he wished to end the separation between our peoples, was this the result?

I leaned forward and cradled my head in my hands, my mind too full to care about the poor image that I was presenting. Were any of the people I had known still alive? They could be, certain wizards could live very, very long lives, but not all families boasted such longevity.

Certainly some of my classmates were probably still around, though they would be in their nineties by now. Perhaps a few of my teachers as well, and maybe some cousins. I wondered if Headmaster Dippet was still alive––he’d be what, three-hundred-and-seventy by now? Still far younger than Barry Winkle and a handful of others, so it was possible. The Dippets were well known for their extremely good health, though dad always said it was just their fae blood breeding true.

Arcturus…he’d be turning one-hundred and ten later this year. He was probably dead by now––Blacks rarely lived to see their hundredth birthday––my revenge rendered moot by the inexorable sands of time. How…disappointing. I wondered who was Lord Black now. Probably Arcturus’ son or grandson by now, maybe even a great-grandson.

I took a few shaky breaths and straightened my back. ‘A Black should never slouch or slump and always maintain good posture,’ my mother’s voice whispered. For all that we did not have the best mother-son relationship, the memory of her lessons was comforting right now.

Okay. I needed to find a wizard. How was I supposed to do that when I’d never been to this city before and had no idea where the local wizarding community was hidden.

Or maybe…not hidden? The first idea that suddenly jumped into my mind seemed utterly insane, but looking at the muggle news portrait I decided that insanity seemed to be the flavor of the day.

“Muggle,” I called out to the waitress, raising my hand up slightly to signal for her attention.

She turned at my call, then hurried over when she saw my hand. She stopped by the table and planted her hands on her hips. “It's not Mug-whatever you said. It's Mag-nolia. Mag.” She pulled a colorful-looking emblem off her hip and brandished it in my direction. “See? Magnolia.”

I squinted, finding that it indeed showed a picture of her, and listed her name as Magnolia. It was a good name, a witch’s name. There had been a halfblood in my year by that name, even. “Ah, I was unaware,” I told her. “It is a lovely name.”

Her frown vanished in an instant and she smiled down at me. “It sure is!” Then she cleared her throat, “Sorry about that, you wouldn’t believe how often the baristas at Moonbucks get that one wrong. Can I help you with something?”

Out of an abundance of caution, I palmed my wand, ready to obliviate the muggle at any moment. “Yes, I was wondering if you could point me towards someone. I’m looking for a wizard?”

I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what I had been expecting. Surprise maybe? Confusion? Perhaps a religious tirade like the one Auntie Hesper often likes to reminisce about.

What I wasn’t expecting was simple acceptance. She looked at my robe, tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, then snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, sure! Uh, I think Mr. Zatara is supposed to be doing a show later this week, though,” she gestured towards the news portrait, “maybe he’ll be too busy for that. He usually does them Wednesdays downtown but he’s known to cancel occasionally for hero business.”

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“And just…anyone can go to these…shows?” I asked haltingly.

“I mean, yeah? They’re not too expensive either if you’re fine sitting in the back. My mum took me to see him a few years ago and it was amazing. They say he uses both stage magic and real magic in his shows and it's just incredible to watch.”

I wasn’t quite sure what the muggle meant by show, but the fact that this was a common event open to the public told me that the international statute of secrecy was truly gone or existed in a form completely unrecognizable to how it had once been. Local governments and the ICW always came down hard on wizards trying to use their talents to impress impressionable muggles. Or well, they used to.

I wasn’t sure if I was willing to wait several days to find a wizard to speak with, but it was good to know that the option existed if I couldn’t find someone else. The muggle girl gave me the address of the theater where this Zatara––the top-hat wearing wizard from the news portrait according to her––performed and then left me to my food once I had thanked her for her aid. It was strange to thank a muggle, but she had truly done me a useful service. I almost felt bad that I had been unable to properly pay for my food.

A few minutes later, I deposited my rubbish in the bin marked for such things and left the restaurant. The food had been adequate and the muggle waitress helpful, but it was time to move along. It was apparently Monday and the ‘magic show’ wouldn’t be until Wednesday. I would prefer to find someone else I could speak with earlier, but if I was unable to find any other local wizards it was good to know that I had a more surefire option coming up.

Having spoken to the waitress, I now knew for certain that wizards were known to muggles in this time. Perhaps a muggle library would have some measure of useful information and the waitress had been able to give me directions to a place called the Gotham City Public Library. If I was unable to find anyone, I could see about going there while I waited for Wednesday evening to arrive.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really know any spells that could just point me towards the nearest wizard. If such spells did exist––and they probably did––they were neither a part of the Hogwarts curriculum, nor anything I’d learned from books.

With no better options I could think of, the best I could do was renew my magic sight spell, disillusion myself, and place a muggle-repelling charm on myself before wandering deeper into the city. With any luck, I’d either see someone or somewhere that looked magical soon. Otherwise, well, I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.

I found…nothing. Absolutely nothing. This entire city was steeped in a thin layer of dark magic, but that was the only magic I found over the course of nearly three hours of wandering. The only thing that came from the entire waste of time was a waxy paper ticket that I had acquired from the theater where Zatara was to perform on Wednesday. It had been easy enough to confound the man in the ticket booth into giving it to me and I now had a second-row seat reserved for myself. I still wasn’t certain what a magic-show entailed, but hopefully this way I would be able to catch the wizard’s attention after his performance.

Now though, it was getting dark, and I had no home to go back to nor a wizard tent to put up. After some searching, I managed to find a ‘hotel’, a big muggle building where guests could rent rooms for a handful of nights at a time, and get myself a room. It was small, but clean and cozy, with a large bed, a bathroom, and what looked like a gigantic news-portrait (what was it that muggle had called it, a TV?) standing on a chest of drawers.

I covered the room with muggle-repelling charms, an intruder charm, a silencing charm, and several different security charms, then shrugged off my robe and collapsed onto the bed. I was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. I felt lost and a little hopeless. What was I going to do? What was I supposed to do?

Never in my wildest dreams had I expected to end up nearly a century in the future, and yet that is what seems to have happened. I also still had no idea what had actually happened. How had I gotten from a burning English courtroom in 1938 to an American swamp in 2010?

I’d had my whole life planned out. My NEWTs were coming up, and I’d been prepared to wow the world with scores that the examiners had never seen before. I had two professors willing to mentor me as I pursued my Masteries. I was going to be the greatest Black wizard of all times, my name said in the same breath as Merlin and Grindelwald.

And now, well…those first two things were certainly out. The third…it was still a dream to pursue. With this strange power I’d discovered within me, perhaps that dream seemed closer than ever, even. First though, I needed to figure out what I was going to do next.