Prologue

If one traveled a few miles outside of Cleveland, Ohio they would find acres upon acres of rolling fields and small farms. In the very center is a very large rundown building, the headquarters for some mysterious company, sitting alone without so much as a gas station with twenty miles.

For those who arent in on the secret, if they were to step so much as a few hundred yards near it they would find themselves late for a very important appointment, or they suddenly couldnt think of anything theyd rather do more than stay as far away as possible.

As for the big business corporations and oil industry bosses who covet the land, the plans to monopolize it never make it further than the contractor who comes out to look at it.

The farmers and small families that own the land surrounding the place leave it be. They leave it alone because it leaves them alone. There are no obnoxious business agents or specialized salesmen bothering them every other week with a new scheme to take their property. These simple people arent so foolish to think its out of respect or goodness of heart; its something to do with the lone building. Nobody questions it. The only people who ever really speak of it are the mischievous locales, who jokingly spin tales of witchcraft.

Theyre not totally wrong.

While the place is like a very large magnet that repels those of the wrong kind of origin, it is an asset to those of a more secret nature.

If the right people were to come around, they would walk across the lot and into the building, where an average waiting room complete with an unlikable receptionist is. They would then pass the front desk and go to the atrium on the left. Down below this average company is a secret city full of shops and venders, banks, and anything you would expect to see in any given city. The only difference is the magic in the air. Literally, it is a city built by wizards and witches.

This is why the non magical folk never see anybody ever entering the building that conceals the secret city. Fully grown Witches and Wizards dont have much need for mundane things such as doors and cars. They have long since replaced the typical muggle ways of transportation with magical means of travel, such as the floo network, apparation, and even the occasional flying carpet. Very few ever actually use the front door.

A hop, skip, and a jump to the left you would find the Ministry of Magic - or rather one of its subdivisions. There are several others like it around the country, in places like New York and Seattle, and then there is a main office where the big meetings are held and legislature gets passed. That is located directly below the Pentagon.

Inside the Ministry is yet another elevator. You take that one as far down as it will take you. There it stops in front of a long narrow corridor. At the end of it and to the right is a very small room containing only two occupants.

The first, a man well into his fifties who has sat down there for a good part of his adult life, intently watching the screen before him. He is the department head. On the other side of the room resides a petite young woman at a makeshift desk. Together they make up the Department for the Improper Use of Magic.

This particular department is in charge of investigating the Midwestern United States for offences under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Confederation of Wizards Statute of Secrecy. It is also where Animagus registration is posted (though unbeknownst to the department that duty will later be divided into a its own separate division).

The department staff monitor a large screen all day waiting for the red lights to flash, indicating illegal or irresponsible activity. At this time a note is sent to the offender detailing actions to be taken by the Office, and if need be, another is sent to a special squad to be dispatched to the location. That is the extent of their excitement.

The Improper Use of Magic Office only deals with offences that are more regulatory than criminal, as the latter would be dealt with by Hit Wizards or the Auror Office.

The department is rather small and unglamorous as it is a small cog on a very large machine. Much of the time the cog lays dormant, though a very important one it is when needed. Without little offices as them the Magical world would loose the secrecy it fights so hard to protect.

As happy as it would make the Department for the Improper Use of Magic to be further complimented and recognized, they are only but a page in this tale.

Chapter 1

2002:

(Outside of Cleveland, Ohio; American Ministry of Magic - Subdivision C - Office: Department for the Improper Use of Magic)

"Whoa! Tony get your ass over here now!" The Department head exclaimed, dropping his newspaper in fright.

A small young womans head shot up out of her arms.

"What is it Benson?" She asked wearily.

"There was just a massive wave of magic that set the system off."

Tonys attention immediately snapped toward her co-worker. She whipped a notebook out of her pocket and flipped it open. Her hand hovered over the blank page ready to scrawl an address down.

Benson slapped his hand down on top of the monitor repeatedly. "These shitty instruments arent picking up like they should!" Each word punctuated by a fist slamming against the machinery. "Stupid Magical Maintenance was screwing around in here last night. Mustve messed something up." Benson grunted.

Tony jumped up and walked over to the instrument that resembled a muggle computer (it had once been, before it was charmed for the Ministrys purposes).

Tony groaned. "For Gods sake, were the God damn Ministry of Magic! How are we supposed to keep an eye on these things if everythings broken?"

"Calm down lassie," Said girl gave him an incredulous look as she watched him work on the equipment like a caveman.

Tony let out a long drawn out sigh. This was going to turn out bad. She composed her face into her professional expression and spun around in her chair. "Before it went off the radar, where was it?"

"I dunno the exact location-"

"What was the general location?"

"In the Lima, Ohio area."

Tony swiftly jotted the place down.

"Well, I guess Ill just file it away for now." She sighed. "But were screwed if we dont figure it out and they hear about this."

Slip ups while doing a job for the Ministry could not only get you fired without recommendations, but possibly tried for various crimes, such as treason or tampering with evidence.

"It was likely nothing anyway."

Tony flipped the notepad closed and set it back in a desk drawer. "You didnt seem to think so when you were jumping and hollering." She answered flippantly.

"I was frightened. Now I got a clear head, I think it was probly just some kids messin around. Their parentsll chastise em."

Tony looked up from her desk. Is he serious? "You full well know that the closest wizards to Lima are in Westerville."

"Whatever." He waved his hand. The annoyed woman brushed past Benson on her way out to go speak with Magical Maintenance.

Benson called after her, "Make sure that you do file that town under a watch."

"Will do." She called back. "Keep an eye on the news, yeah?"

"Youd think she was my superior the way she talks to me." Benson muttered. He pulled his coat around himself tighter and picked his newspaper up, continuing where he left off.

(Lima, Ohio - Hummel Residence)

"Damn." Burt Hummel muttered. "The whole power box is shot."

Burt stuck his screwdriver between his teeth and shined the flashlight over the smoking electrical transformer. A crash of thunder sounded outside making the man start.

"Flash flood, and on Lizzies funeral too." He sniffled.

Burt took a moment to close his eyes and let the feelings wash away with the rain. Once he was a little more composed he wiped his nose on the back of his shirt sleeve then got back to work.

Burts only child shrank back against the darkened staircase and tiptoed up. At the top he turned left where he went into his room and quietly closed the door. Once in his safe place he silently sobbed.

Kurt didnt mean to do that.

Then again, he never meant to do those things. The only difference now was that he didnt have a mother to tell him so, or tuck him in with a story after some strange occurrence. Now Elizabeth was six feet under in a beautiful cherry wood coffin. Only hours before Kurt had kissed her cheek before they closed the casket, and then stood mere feet away as they lowered her into the ground. When he and Burt had arrived home minutes ago was when the power suddenly went out. Burt was under the impression that it was a short-circuit, but it wasnt, and Kurt knew that. He knew that he somehow made it happen.

Usually when it happened it was because he was angry about something, or upset when another kid messed with him at the park. He didnt expect his weirdness to lash out today. The only thing he felt all day was numb. It was on the car ride back home when it hit him that this was it. An overpowering feeling of sadness and despair had crashed over his tiny body. He felt dark. Then he was literally surrounded by it. The only light in the house came from Burts flashlight and the tiny candle glowing in Kurts windowsill. An eerie wind rushed through the house and the little flame flickered and died.