There is a creature loose on the Hogwarts Grounds. It's obviously magical, but not one of the well-known creatures. A large serpent with a mirror instead of a mouth, slithering along the grass at high speed.
The wards set off alarms as soon as it appeares, but it's free to act for the first few moments, free to barrel towards a witch studying outdoors under a tree-
They make straight for the light in the sky. Turns out it's a balloon. As they come over the last rise and slow down, she can see a slightly sprawling city of tents and a few ramshackle houses, surrounded by other buildings, and all centered around a giant metal structure emitting steady gouts of steam. "Welcome to New Home."
Everything is -
It's a little like seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Everything is different, in both the grand and the details. She looks from building to building, house to house, back to the metal structure, trying to take in the influx of new information.
"I'm glad to be able to see it. It's - impressive." After a pause, she points at the metal structure. "What is that?"
"It's the Generator! A marvel of modern engineering! The centerpiece and beating heart of a city meant to endure the winter! They designed them based on heavily modified locomotives. We fuel it with coal from the deposits the city sits on. The fires inside produce high pressure steam, which is distributed around the city to provide motive force and warmth. Without it, we would likely all be doomed in this cold. Now, let's go, to the outpost station! They'll take and distribute what we scavenged, and there's an elevator down. The low entrances aren't fun to hike down, let me tell you."
"I've never seen anything like it. I can't say I know a lot about engineering, but I can only imagine the work that went into it. And of course, please lead the way."
She follows whoever seems to be heading to the outpost station.
They're all heading there. The dogs seem happy and excited, recognizing the place of warm, food, and rest.
Two other people meet them at the outpost station. "Welcome back all! And to miss Mab, welcome for the first time. I'm told you have important information or something for the Captain to hear. But first, do you need anything? Food? You're not sick or injured?
"Good, good. Er, I'm Harold, nice to meet you. Especially since you were lost in the cold... Let's get you to the Captain, then?" He makes a hand motion to the cargo elevator.
"It's nice to meet you too, Harold. I'm pretty glad to not be lost in the cold, too."
Into the cargo elevator she goes.
And down the cliff face they go. There are men and women at work here and there - sawmills, steel mills, some kind of coal mining thing? It's certainly industrial-looking. "I don't recognize you. They - er. They found you in an empty cannery. Were you with the scout corps?"
"Oh, no, I wasn't, but it's sort of complicated how I ended up in that cannery and I probably shouldn't try to explain it in the elevator. All in all, I'm just glad I was found, really. It seems like if the scouts had gone later or earlier or somewhere different, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
"Maybe you would have seen the Beacon and found us - Well. I don't know for sure. Hold on to something-" CLANG. The elevator reaches bottom a bit roughly. "-Yeah. It's safe, and smoothing out the elevator ride is so far down on our priority list I'm not sure we'll ever get to it. Come along, then. Workshops are near the Generator."
At ground level this place looks more like the badly outdated Muggle Studies curriculum paints the muggles. There is a street of wooden boards, lined with pipes, heading towards the Generator. There are buildings here and there, covered in snow, most of them vaguely ramshackle when they aren't literally just tents with a few timbers holding them up a bit.
She sees that the Muggle Studies curriculum has found its true home.
"I've heard a bit about the Captain, but I don't really know what he's like or how things work around here. Is there anything in particular I should avoid doing?"
"Oh! Well, he's a good guy. He was a union head, and I think that says a lot. He organized the evacuation after we learned about the Lords' lies, and, well, he never got elected or anything, but nobody's about to make an issue of it. He makes... Hard choices for us. Hard choices have to be made sometimes. They've panned out so far. Perhaps, try not to judge him for any of it. We've got high hopes, but we have not had an easy time, ma'am."
They pass a tall watch tower, a searchlight mounted in it making rounds over the crowded city. There are a few other people in the street here. Mostly children. Everyone is rather subdued.
"I'm sorry that's the case.
"What would you say are the - worst, or most urgent - troubles that people are facing?"
"Well, miss. There are a lot of them, many of which you seem to have been lucky enough to escape thus far. Look around you. The cold! The hunger! And sickness. Hard shifts. No chance to unwind. And the worries about what comes next... And the Lords. As for me, one day at a time, one shift at a time."
"It's fair to say I've been pretty lucky. I might be able to help with some of your troubles, and I'd like to, but it isn't as clear what to focus on looking in from the outside, as a newcomer."
She frowns.
"- oh, and 'scuse me for going off-topic for a moment, but... do you happen to know the date?"
1887. That explains... some things. And opens up more questions on others.
She looks to Harold for whatever one does upon accessing a Captain-containing workshop.
He goes inside. It certainly looks workshoppy! Tools and contraptions here and there, wide drafting boards with blueprints on them. A couple of people look at them. "Harold! And our new visitor. I'll go get the captain." He rushes off upstairs.
Another man asks, "Harold, see what I've gotten for the steel mill..."
"Yes, of course. Just wait a moment, Miss Mab."
And then she is alone in the middle of a semi-bustling 1887 workshop for a little while.
And then the Captain comes down. Wearing similar clothes to the others, but also wearing a distinctive red scarf-thing. "Miss Mabel! I am Theodore Bolard, but everyone probably has been calling me 'the Captain', yes? I gather we have a lot to talk about."
Pseudo-time-travel: a novel experience.
"Yes, that seems the shape of it - I'm not sure how much you've heard already?"
"You have paranormal abilities including fuel-less fire and enlarging objects, and were able to prove them to first inspection to Glen, who I know as a man not prone to flights of fancy. You claim to be capable of more. I think I'd like proof, myself. Shall we go upstairs? I've set aside a workspace for this."
"What other sorts of abilities do you have?"
And upstairs are more bustling engineery types working on things, including a sputtering engine producing a bit of smoke in the corner. He indicates a door to a side room. "Fireproofing and scientific instruments are in there. I can find a chaperone if you wish, though we've more or less cast aside the usual rules of propriety, given the current situation."
"It's not customary where I'm from either, so I don't mind. My - please excuse me using the word 'magic' - is broad enough that I can't really rattle off all the specific capabilities in a timely sort of way, but in general I can make animals or objects larger or smaller, apply force to move or destroy something, apply effects like unconsciousness or a colour change, make some minor tasks perform themselves... I can change some things into some other things, but not all things into all things. I can vanish objects. I can do one thing at a time and it's usually a small- to medium-sized sort of thing, since I'm not all that experienced yet, although there are exceptions. This isn't an exhaustive list."
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