// This is a plot I am looking to pursue on Steven. All of this is OOC info unless he tells you IC. If any DM's are interested in helping a bit with this plot I would welcome it greatly. Just PM me thank you
Steven and his mother entered the crowded tent. Wizards bustle around tending the wounded scattered on the cots and floor. Bowls of water were filled with bullets as the wizards extracted the bullets and healed the wounds. As his mother gasped and began speaking to the head healer in his native tongue, Steven quickly went to work, removing his shirt and tearing it into strips to use as bandages on the less severely injured.
He moved to a young boy, around 8, who was being treated for several bullet wounds.
He looked to the female healer, who was to his surprise younger then him. "Is he a Muggle or a Wizard?"
She simply continued her work and muttering in her strange accent "Muggles... Most of them are."
With a resolute nod, he began working to extract the bullet with his wand and healing the wounds.
Several hours later he emerged from the tent, blood and sweat soaked, looks of exhaustion and bitterness on his face.
He approached his mother. "I hear the wizards here have taken an interest in this Muggle War..."
With a sad nod she turned to him. "You must promise me you do not get involved. I couldn't see you getting dragged into this."
With a faint smile, he hugs her. "Knowing I am your husband's son, you expect you can extract that promise from me? My life is no better then these muggles or wizards and I will fight and I will give my everything to protect them."
With a tear in her eye, she nods and releases him before giving him a peck on the cheek and turning with a pop.
**The Next Day**
A large dark-skinned Wizard greets Steven as he enters the tent.
"Please, please... Sit down Mister Walker. I have heard of what you did for my people yesterday and many mothers will be happy to see their children back home and healthy."
Though the wizard was kind enough, Steven could still sense the feeling of mistrust and took note of the man glancing at his many scars and wincing at the sight of his mangled hand. Steven sat gingerly in the chair, still shirtless, the blood had dried and began flaking off.
"I'll get straight to the point Mister Walker, We are short on men and the wizards are secretly equipping their side with magic and we need to put a stop to it. If they are successful, not only will wizarding kind be once more outed to the muggles, but they can and will expand. They have been stopping most assistance we can gain. At every turn they are thwarting us. We need everyone we can. We heard your father is a renown Auror in the Ministry of yours... Can he aid?"
With a frown, Steven shakes his head. "My father isn't available dealing with many other threats around the area of England and politically, it doesn't look good having the Ministry itself interfere. My mother will continue her work healing... And you will have me."
A look of fear shows on the man's face. "You are but a child yourself! We are not to be enlisting children like these maniacs! No! No! Absolutely not."
"General... I am of Legal age... Over it by a year actually, and since you can't keep your eyes off my deformations, You know I have been involved in war... The same cannot be said for the many here. They are healers, not soldiers. You will have my wand to do both if you please, but I will not leave just because you turn me down. My life is no better then the child I healed yesterday, nor the elderly woman we were unable to save. Keep me updated. I must return to England but I ask you to keep me informed. I will meet you in a week at a place called the Green Door in the Lower district of London."
Without giving the General a chance to respond, Steven stands and bows as he leaves the tent into the Hot African sun. The young boy from the day before approaches him and speaks in his native tongue. "Thank you mister... Most kids would be scared of you... But my mother said Angels come in many shapes and sizes."
Steven can only smile, tears forming in his eyes as he pats the kids head and sends him on his way. Out of the corner of his eye he spots another child, about 11 years old. As Steven walks towards him, the child's eyes narrow and he disappears between some tents.
