When The World Ends. D/G, K/M. 5/11. R.
Title: When The World Ends
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: R. OMG, I didn't actually write smut...
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Katie Bell/Marcus Flint.
Disclaimer: The characters here do not originally belong to me, but to JKR, Raincoast, Scholastic and their teams of lawyers. This version of the characters is all mine, though.
Spoilers/Warnings: This takes place during DH (minus the Epilogue of Doom). Also, this fits "undercover: having to participate in illegal / hurtful activity" prompt on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: Ginny is tired of being pushed into the background as if nothing she endured counted for anything. It turns out, Katie feels the same way. They plan on making a difference in the war, even if no one takes them seriously.
Prior chapters:
One - Shadows On Our Own
Two - Forming Alliances
Three - Knowing The Names of Things
Four - In The Shadow Of Flames
The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;--
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.
Charlotte Bronte, "Evening Solace"
Katie stared at the door to Program Director Stepanov's office. She'd never skived off from class before, even at Hogwarts. She might not have put forth all of her effort, but she'd at least been in classes. She was early for her supervision session, and had only stopped to send an owl to Draco and Ginny that she had to cancel that week's session at both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. She couldn't think straight at the moment, much less counsel them on how to be good candidates for the law enforcement program.
"Enter," Stepanov boomed when Katie knocked on the door. He took in her glassy eyes, stony expression and singed sections of hair. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?"
"There was a fire last night," she replied faintly, standing behind the chair she usually sat in. She held the back of it in a white knuckled grip; it felt as if the chair was the only thing keeping her upright. "My parents... The village... There was a fire last night," she repeated.
"Sit down and start making sense," Stepanov barked. Some of her classmates had gleefully reported to him that she had missed classes, but he didn't care about that. Cadets sometimes missed a class or two, and it didn't matter as long as they were able to write their exams properly. Cadets could in theory learn whatever they needed from the texts and practicals, skipping the classroom entirely. It was out of character for Katie, and he knew it.
"I visited my parents last night," Katie murmured. She sat down in the chair delicately, as if it would flake to ash if she touched it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to miss my classes this morning. I'll go to tomorrow's session, of course."
Stepanov wasn't fooled by her brisk tone. A teacher might have, but her teachers didn't know her very well at all. Over the course of the term, Stepanov had gotten to know her fairly well. "Your parents," he said, not understanding the non sequitur. "What does your parents have to do with this, Cadet Bell?"
"There was a fire." Katie forced back the feeling that she should bawl. Now was not the time for it. Better to be numb to it all. Better to focus on her classes, on writing her exams, on making sure that Stepanov understood why she skipped class and shouldn't be booted from the program entirely. "My parents are dead."
It only then clicked. Stepanov knew her entire file, of course. So while the morning news had included a report of a northern village burning down to the ground in its entirety, he hadn't automatically made the connection. "You have a flat near here," he pointed out.
"I wasn't there," Katie replied. Her hands were cold and balled into fists in her lap. She could barely feel her fingernails digging into her palms. She could smell the smoke in her hair, even if she had changed her clothes. She should have showered. She could smell smoke and ash and Marcus, and all she could think about now was the burned flesh of his arm and chest. Everyone in the village would look like that, burned flesh tight over bone, not even recognizable as any of the people she had grown up with. "I was visiting my parents," she said in a tiny voice after a moment. "And they're dead now. They're all dead now."
Stepanov blinked. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cadet."
"I'll be writing exams, of course," Katie continued in that same tiny, lifeless tone. "I'll speak with each of the instructors to get the assignments I missed today. I'll make up the work and do the practical after hours. I'll catch up..."
"Katherine."
Katie's gaze shifted from a spot just left of his ear to his eyes. No one really used her full first name, let alone any of her professors. "Director?"
"You need time off."
"My exams!" Katie exclaimed, shaking her head. "I need to attend classes next week, and then write my exams after that."
"You know nothing of me, do you?" he asked. She shook her head. Of course she didn't. Cadets didn't need to know anything about their instructors other than they were knowledgeable and approved by the Ministry. The instructors had to know some of the basics. Supervisors had to know a little more. "I had a wife and child. I buried them during the first war."
"I'm sorry, sir," Katie replied, discomfited.
"You need time off," Stepanov repeated. "Funeral arrangements take time."
Katie had gone chalk white, her hands clenched even tighter in her lap. "Oh." She blinked rapidly to keep herself from crying. "Oh."
"It's not difficult," Stepanov said, not unkindly. "But it takes time, and you are not at your best right now. Writing your exams might be a distraction for you, but you would not do as well as you should do on them."
"But I need..." Katie began, eyes wide in dismay. Acceptance into the follow up program was usually contingent on the exam scores.
"I will be accepting you into my class on a temporary basis," Stepanov continued. "You will write your exams after the New Year, but will still be part of my advanced class. The exams, I'm sure, will merely be a formality by then." He leveled a gaze at her. "You didn't mention the advanced class or your desire to be an Artifact Investigator during our sessions. Curious."
"It couldn't be seen as favoritism, sir. I have to earn it," Katie replied, feeling numb inside. His expression revealed nothing, and she was rattled enough already that it unnerved her.
After a moment, Stepanov nodded. "There are disadvantages to locking away your emotions, Katherine. Trust me on this point. The most successful of agents are those that still feel, that can understand their informants and clients." There was understanding in his gaze, not pity, and Katie could feel her tears caught in her throat. It was a painful lump she couldn't swallow down, and he seemed to know that. "Go home. Grieve. Bury your dead. Come back in January. My class is starting after Twelfth Night. I will myself be going abroad to mourn my own dead, to visit my wife and child. I buried them in the home country, closer to family they knew. Your family and village will need to be buried and mourned. Grieve, Katherine." Stepanov got up and laid a hand on her shoulder in support. "It is not weakness to grieve. Emotions are important, and can be a tool. Feel this, and use it when you are stronger."
Katie looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you."
Stepanov nodded and watched her leave his office. He would inform all of her instructors and take care of her exam schedule. She would probably be ready for them by the end of January. In spite of himself, he had grown somewhat attached to his supervisee.
***
"Why do you think she canceled?" Ginny asked Draco, looking over the identical owls they had received. They were hastily scrawled on scraps of parchment and delivered by one of the official owls of the training program. There was no explanation, just that everything this week would be canceled. It was unlike her; Katie usually had everything planned very far in advance.
But Draco seemed to know something that Ginny didn't; he hadn't been as surprised to see the note as Ginny had been.
"Tell me," Ginny demanded. "You know why."
His eyes flicked up at her and then off to the side, to the meeting room doorway. "Honestly, Weasley, you're a larger idiot than I took you for. Of course I don't know why Bell canceled. It probably has something to do with her exams."
He had pulled out a quill as he spoke, and scratched Our other place underneath Katie's handwriting. Ginny could barely make out the words, as he hadn't used ink. But she nodded her understanding and gathered up her books and backpack. "I suppose you don't want to be seen with the likes of me," she said, managing to sound irritated.
It wasn't too far from the truth, really. She was tired of sneaking about, tired of doubting every open doorway or corridor, tired of the endless torture sessions that were detentions. She was black and blue all over some days, just cursed on others. The pain numbing spell was highly effective, as Katie had told her it would be, but even that couldn't block out everything. Ginny still felt tired and sore at night, still felt like she would break to pieces if this kept up long enough. Her dreams were full of whispers and Parselmouth, dark eyes from a half remembered diary and white-blond hair. The days were dreary, dragging endlessly, and any of the mad schemes she and the remnants of the DA had put together had been toppled one by one. It was hard not to feel frustrated or trapped.
At least taking Draco to the basilisk cavern helped break that particular nightmare. Now she had a hiding place no one else knew about.
Ginny ignored the generic sarcastic comment Draco made in reply. When she left, Crabbe and Goyle were waiting outside for Draco. She supposed he would find her sooner or later. With the cavern less scary for her, she had started doing her homework there. She was even starting to think of beginning another diary. It wasn't as if she had anyone to talk to about her thoughts; she didn't feel comfortable telling Neville or Luna about the relationship she had with Draco. He made her feel safe in a way that they couldn't, and she carried around the ghost of his kiss on her lips for hours afterward.
Maybe this was how it should have been with Harry. Some part of her, the childish girl still hidden deep inside of her, was sad about that. The rest of her was able to push the thought away. They had tried at least. Harry just couldn't be a good boyfriend to her, couldn't be who she needed him to be. And she couldn't be who he needed her to be.
Draco found her there hours later, finishing up her homework. "They... Something happened recently, Gin," he said, sitting down on the floor next to her. "We've been picking up more things than just what they've taught in Dark Arts class."
"I imagine so," she murmured, studiously not looking at his left arm. She didn't want to have to contemplate the fact that it was there.
"Crabbe's been getting extra help from the Carrows," Draco said, hands clasped in front of him. "He's been showing off some of the spells, but he can't control them, not really. And last night, he went to see Norton Flint, to try to convince him to rejoin the Death Eaters. The man's older, has pretty bad arthritis. He's a stone mason, you know... Was a stone mason."
Ginny blinked. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Flint's Dad was a Death Eater in the first war, blamed his health on not being part of this one. Marcus joined up in his place. It kept anyone from thinking badly on his Dad, but Crabbe thought he'd make a name for himself by convincing the old man to come back." Draco looked up from his clasped hands. "Crabbe was showing off, trying to say how powerful he was. He wound up burning down the entire village." Ginny gasped and Draco nodded. "Worst part of it is, that was Bell's hometown, too."
Ginny hadn't known that. Draco hadn't known that initially, but he had started looking for any information he could find about her when she showed up in school again. He had wanted to find some kind of dirt on the girl in case she ever accused him of harming her, but there was nothing to be found. She was an ordinary girl from an ordinary village, pure of blood and from a fairly good family. Hers had been a comfortable existence in comparison to Marcus'; the Flints had fallen on tough times with all the deaths in the family and not as much demand for the intricate stone work the Flints were known for.
None of it mattered now, however. Apparently Katie Bell was the only survivor from the village, and it possibly was because she was in the law enforcement program. Crabbe had left the village straightaway, leaving Marcus behind when they started scuffling. Crabbe had laughed when recounting how he had bested Marcus and left him pinned there, that he couldn't try to make Crabbe look bad with the debacle. He had gone back hours later, and the fires were still raging, still consuming everything in the village. There would be nothing left now, nothing but ash and smoldering embers.
Ginny clasped Draco's hand. "We have to go visit her. We have to do something."
"Gin, they're going to shut down the weekends..."
"Unless someone they trust has a pass," Ginny reminded him. "Unless you take me with you to check on her. She's alone, Draco. She's grieving alone, and she's been through so much already. I can't just sit by and do nothing."
"She might not want you about."
"I'd wait, of course. I'm staying over hols." She and Neville both were, and they were planning to sneak through the castle halls and try to do whatever they could to sabotage the remaining Death Eaters in the castle. "Perhaps we could go then. It's the worst time to lose her parents."
Draco thought of the attacks that were planned for the holiday season, the targets that he had heard about and the ones he could only guess at. "I'll owl you. I might not be able to get away. You don't need me to go visit her."
"She's your mentor, too," Ginny murmured, looking down at their clasped hands. "She's a friend, too. We have to stick by her through this. She doesn't have anyone else."
It was his fault she had been hurt the year before, his fault her life had veered course so drastically. He owed her, even if she didn't know it yet.
"All right. I'll try to find a time to visit her with you over hols. Don't do anything stupid or rash or Gryffindor will you? It helps if you're not dead."
Ginny leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly. "I worry about you, too."
Startled, he watched her lean back to collect her things. "You're not staying long tonight?"
She had to meet Luna in the Gryffindor common room to talk strategy, but she couldn't tell Draco that. "I promised to help a friend with homework tonight."
There were too many things half said or completely unsaid between them. Draco nodded, knowing she was lying to him. He also knew he couldn't peer too closely, or else he would have to do something about it. He didn't want to make a choice, didn't want to be put into the position he had be put into last year. He could let Crabbe and Goyle start to pull away if it kept him and his family safe. If it kept Ginny safe.
He didn't belong to either side, really, and that didn't leave him too many options at all.
***
Marcus had explored the Bells' summer home after Katie left. It was a relatively small house compared to the one they had in the village, but it was still larger than the flat the Flints had over their shop. They had left the house stocked up in preparation for random visits, and he went rifling through dressers and drawers and closets. Spencer hadn't been in the house for years according to Katie, and no one had touched the room in his absence before he had borrowed clothes. He had school books in his room; he had likely studied every summer, which explained why he had been an obnoxious swot in school. Katie had books as well, but they were on the beach's flora and fauna, Quidditch strategy or mysteries. He remembered how focused she had been on Quidditch, never paying attention to anyone in the village. She was too good for his lot, most likely. Once Marcus' Quidditch hopes had been ruined, he was lucky any of his monied friends from Hogwarts still talked with him. All he heard at Death Eater meetings was how upstarts didn't know their place, that too many presumed to know them.
He wondered when she would return, and if there would be Order of the Phoenix members with her to arrest him.
Ultimately, it didn't matter. For all that he had hoped to make a better life for himself and his father, it hadn't worked. His father was dead, and he had been left for dead. They probably had a good laugh over it, that the idiot stoneworker thought he could better himself and be like one of them. Marcus would have left the Bells' home if he had anywhere else to go, but there was nothing for him now. No shop, no flat, no allies.
He was reading one of Katie's mystery novels when she apparated back into the summer home. He stuck his finger into the book to hold his place and went into the kitchen. "Katie." She was carrying groceries, and was startled to see him. She was alone, with no indication that she had ever mentioned him to authorities. "I would've thought you'd turn me in."
"Oh. I... I thought you would've gone back to your friends."
Marcus took in her pale face, the dark circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes. She had been crying at some point, though she would never cry in front of him. "The Death Eaters are the ones that burned down the town. So no, not likely I'd go back to them right this moment."
Katie paused in putting the groceries away. "Why did they do it?"
"Showing off," Marcus told her quietly. "Vince thought he could show my father how good they were, how helpful they'd be to him again. As if I hadn't tried the same thing when I joined up."
She looked away from him. They both knew what he was, what she was. They both knew the darker discoloration beneath his burns was the Dark Mark. "Your father was a member, then?"
"Yes, but no," Marcus told her with a sigh. He glanced at his place in the book and put it aside on the counter. She was startled to see him reading her book, but didn't say anything. "He was in the first war, thought maybe he'd get better than he did. But there wasn't any money coming after that, so he didn't rush in this time."
Katie looked up, disturbed. "They promised him money?"
"They promise a lot of things. Wealth, power, a proper place in the world for those with pure enough blood... We never had the money or power. It might've been nice not to struggle so hard for it. We can't all be posh like you," Marcus said, derision coloring his tone. People with money never understood what it was like not to have it.
She was startled by his words. "But we don't... We didn't..."
"You never looked twice at us in the village," Marcus said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Admit it. If not for last night, you'd never have spoken with me."
Color rose to her cheeks. She could remember his callused hands over her, the heat of his mouth over hers. But she was also angry with him, for accusing her of something she wasn't. "I never looked twice at you because I was working for a Quidditch tryout spot. When that was gone, I was getting into the law enforcement program. I wouldn't have talked to you because I didn't know you outside of school! And I wouldn't have been here! I have a flat by the training program so I can study!" Katie jabbed her finger hard into the center of his chest, not far from the bandages. "Don't give me the hate you have, Marcus Flint. I've enough for anybody already."
He caught her wrist in his hand easily, his gaze wary on her angry face. "Why'd you lose your spot, then? You flew well enough for one."
It was compliment, given how well he had flown at school. But Katie narrowed her gaze at him, not ready to let go of her anger yet. She pulled her wrist from his grasp. "One of your Death Eater friends nearly had me killed." Her eyes raked across his face, seeing the genuine surprise there. "Did one of them hurt you? Is that why you can see my scars?"
"What are you on about?"
"You can see my scars," Katie said, though Marcus could tell it was a question. He nodded at her, wondering what was coming next. "Only someone with curse damage can see them."
Marcus reached out and traced a line on her cheek before she twitched away from his touch in annoyance. "Yeah, I suppose I have curse damage."
They stared at each other for a long moment. Marcus didn't want to just tell her, and Katie didn't want to ask. She finally turned away and started putting away the groceries again. "I have to put this away," she said, more to herself than for his benefit.
"Why did you come back? You have this other flat, you said."
"I wanted to be sure you were gone," Katie snapped, voice taut with emotion.
"You were surprised to see me," Marcus pointed out, moving behind her. She was in law enforcement; she could probably seriously hurt him if she wanted to.
"I thought you'd be gone."
"I owe you a wizard's life debt." Katie stiffened at his quiet words. "My father will smack me upside the head if he finds out..." His voice trailed off when he realized what he said, that he had forgotten his father was dead. "Dad would have said something if I'd been remiss in my duties. He stressed that a lot. I owe you a life debt."
Katie could hear the strain in his voice. "I don't want it."
"I still have to offer it."
"I won't be responsible for you."
"Then why did you save my life?" he asked, frustration thick in his voice. "You don't like me, you've never liked me, and you still saved my life. What the hell for?"
She spun around and struck at his chest. "You stupid pillock! Everyone else was dead! I wish it wasn't you. I wish it was my Mum. I wish it was anyone else but me still alive!"
Katie was trembling in his arms, and Marcus sighed as he let his chin drop down over the top of her head. This whole thing had been a cock up from the start. He hadn't meant to antagonize her, and he hadn't meant to shred his heart any further by thinking of how much his father must have suffered when he died. "They're... They were good people, your parents."
She sniffled, but refused to cry against his chest. Her throat felt thick and closed up, as if she was choking on the tears she refused to shed. "Yeah. Your dad was a good sort, too. Mine talked about him sometimes."
Marcus' arms tightened around her shoulders fractionally. "Yeah. He meant well. He said I was stupid to join up, that he'd be fine. But his hands... He couldn't work the stone as well. I tried to help, but he made me go back to finish school."
"That second seventh year?" Katie asked, keeping a tight hold on his shirt. She was clinging to him as if she needed him to stay upright. He nodded against the top of her head. "I nearly died my seventh year. They made that cursed locket part of me to save my life."
Marcus began to stroke the back of her head. "I'm sorry, Katie. My dad said you'd been sick."
"Yeah. I suppose you could say I was."
He had his eyes closed, and could hear the pain in her voice. "Alexandra Montague cursed me to be like stone. Your brother stopped it from being too bad, but he couldn't undo it all."
Katie pulled back in surprise. "What? Why'd she do that?"
"I tried to talk sense into your idiot brother. She wasn't going to turn down a marriage contract and run away with him to be some professor's wife. She's the type that marries for money and looks good in society. She was just stringing him along so he'd do her essays." Katie could feel the truth in that; Spencer had always been blind to his friends' faults if he loved them enough. It sounded like him. "She heard me and cursed me so I'd stay quiet. Spencer undid as much as he could, and convinced her to run away so the authorities wouldn't put her in Azkaban. I told him not to go, but he wouldn't listen."
Katie looked down at the floor. "Sounds like him," she agreed quietly. "Sounds just like him."
"Look. I can leave if you want me to. I'll find someplace to go..."
She reached out and grasped his hand tightly. "No. It's fine. It's all right." She looked up at his blank expression. "I don't want to be alone right now. I need... We need to bury them."
Marcus' carefully blank expression tightened. "There won't be anything left to bury. The only reason I wasn't dead when you got to the shop was that stone is harder to burn. But Fiendfyre eventually burns everything, and nothing's left but ash."
She had been dreading the thought of identifying her parents' remains, but this was somehow worse. "Nothing's left?" He shook his head at her. "My grandparents in the churchyard?" she asked faintly. "Your mum and brothers? All gone?"
Marcus turned away, nodding. "Yeah. Vince is a bigger idiot than I am for believing he can control that fucking spell."
Katie could see her hands shaking when she put away the last of the groceries without looking at Marcus. "Not your friend anymore, then?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Marcus looked at her bowed head, her dark hair a curtain between them. He brushed it away from him, pushing it over her left shoulder. She blinked in surprise but kept her eyes on the counter. "We were never friends," Marcus said shortly.
"We're not friends, either."
Marcus simply looked at her for a long moment. "No, we're not."
She felt raw and tired, and trying to figure this out was too much for her. He didn't make sense to her, and she was sure he would have before this debacle. "So what now, then?"
"I owe you my life," Marcus told her slowly. "And they've shown me what they think of me."
Katie struggled to piece that together, but it was like she was moving underwater. "I could make you help me," she said, her tongue feeling thick and awkward and not her own. "I could make you tell me all about them."
"Or you could ask," Marcus murmured. "I'd tell you if you asked."
"Why?" It wasn't because she had saved his life. He had been too gentle with her the night before, and there was too much care in his posture now. Katie just couldn't piece it together, couldn't see past her own pain and rage and grief.
"Because I'm not who I thought I was. You're the only one to give me a chance like this in a long time." Marcus touched her shoulder gently. "You saved my life even when you didn't have to, even if maybe you didn't want to. That means something. I've had a lot of time to think while you were gone. I'll help you with whatever you want to do."
His life was in her hands. She could break him if she wanted to. If she was angry enough.
She closed her eyes and merely leaned into his touch. "Stay. I'll figure it out later."
***
***
On to the next chapter!
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: R. OMG, I didn't actually write smut...
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Katie Bell/Marcus Flint.
Disclaimer: The characters here do not originally belong to me, but to JKR, Raincoast, Scholastic and their teams of lawyers. This version of the characters is all mine, though.
Spoilers/Warnings: This takes place during DH (minus the Epilogue of Doom). Also, this fits "undercover: having to participate in illegal / hurtful activity" prompt on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: Ginny is tired of being pushed into the background as if nothing she endured counted for anything. It turns out, Katie feels the same way. They plan on making a difference in the war, even if no one takes them seriously.
Prior chapters:
One - Shadows On Our Own
Two - Forming Alliances
Three - Knowing The Names of Things
Four - In The Shadow Of Flames
The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;--
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.
Charlotte Bronte, "Evening Solace"
Katie stared at the door to Program Director Stepanov's office. She'd never skived off from class before, even at Hogwarts. She might not have put forth all of her effort, but she'd at least been in classes. She was early for her supervision session, and had only stopped to send an owl to Draco and Ginny that she had to cancel that week's session at both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. She couldn't think straight at the moment, much less counsel them on how to be good candidates for the law enforcement program.
"Enter," Stepanov boomed when Katie knocked on the door. He took in her glassy eyes, stony expression and singed sections of hair. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?"
"There was a fire last night," she replied faintly, standing behind the chair she usually sat in. She held the back of it in a white knuckled grip; it felt as if the chair was the only thing keeping her upright. "My parents... The village... There was a fire last night," she repeated.
"Sit down and start making sense," Stepanov barked. Some of her classmates had gleefully reported to him that she had missed classes, but he didn't care about that. Cadets sometimes missed a class or two, and it didn't matter as long as they were able to write their exams properly. Cadets could in theory learn whatever they needed from the texts and practicals, skipping the classroom entirely. It was out of character for Katie, and he knew it.
"I visited my parents last night," Katie murmured. She sat down in the chair delicately, as if it would flake to ash if she touched it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to miss my classes this morning. I'll go to tomorrow's session, of course."
Stepanov wasn't fooled by her brisk tone. A teacher might have, but her teachers didn't know her very well at all. Over the course of the term, Stepanov had gotten to know her fairly well. "Your parents," he said, not understanding the non sequitur. "What does your parents have to do with this, Cadet Bell?"
"There was a fire." Katie forced back the feeling that she should bawl. Now was not the time for it. Better to be numb to it all. Better to focus on her classes, on writing her exams, on making sure that Stepanov understood why she skipped class and shouldn't be booted from the program entirely. "My parents are dead."
It only then clicked. Stepanov knew her entire file, of course. So while the morning news had included a report of a northern village burning down to the ground in its entirety, he hadn't automatically made the connection. "You have a flat near here," he pointed out.
"I wasn't there," Katie replied. Her hands were cold and balled into fists in her lap. She could barely feel her fingernails digging into her palms. She could smell the smoke in her hair, even if she had changed her clothes. She should have showered. She could smell smoke and ash and Marcus, and all she could think about now was the burned flesh of his arm and chest. Everyone in the village would look like that, burned flesh tight over bone, not even recognizable as any of the people she had grown up with. "I was visiting my parents," she said in a tiny voice after a moment. "And they're dead now. They're all dead now."
Stepanov blinked. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cadet."
"I'll be writing exams, of course," Katie continued in that same tiny, lifeless tone. "I'll speak with each of the instructors to get the assignments I missed today. I'll make up the work and do the practical after hours. I'll catch up..."
"Katherine."
Katie's gaze shifted from a spot just left of his ear to his eyes. No one really used her full first name, let alone any of her professors. "Director?"
"You need time off."
"My exams!" Katie exclaimed, shaking her head. "I need to attend classes next week, and then write my exams after that."
"You know nothing of me, do you?" he asked. She shook her head. Of course she didn't. Cadets didn't need to know anything about their instructors other than they were knowledgeable and approved by the Ministry. The instructors had to know some of the basics. Supervisors had to know a little more. "I had a wife and child. I buried them during the first war."
"I'm sorry, sir," Katie replied, discomfited.
"You need time off," Stepanov repeated. "Funeral arrangements take time."
Katie had gone chalk white, her hands clenched even tighter in her lap. "Oh." She blinked rapidly to keep herself from crying. "Oh."
"It's not difficult," Stepanov said, not unkindly. "But it takes time, and you are not at your best right now. Writing your exams might be a distraction for you, but you would not do as well as you should do on them."
"But I need..." Katie began, eyes wide in dismay. Acceptance into the follow up program was usually contingent on the exam scores.
"I will be accepting you into my class on a temporary basis," Stepanov continued. "You will write your exams after the New Year, but will still be part of my advanced class. The exams, I'm sure, will merely be a formality by then." He leveled a gaze at her. "You didn't mention the advanced class or your desire to be an Artifact Investigator during our sessions. Curious."
"It couldn't be seen as favoritism, sir. I have to earn it," Katie replied, feeling numb inside. His expression revealed nothing, and she was rattled enough already that it unnerved her.
After a moment, Stepanov nodded. "There are disadvantages to locking away your emotions, Katherine. Trust me on this point. The most successful of agents are those that still feel, that can understand their informants and clients." There was understanding in his gaze, not pity, and Katie could feel her tears caught in her throat. It was a painful lump she couldn't swallow down, and he seemed to know that. "Go home. Grieve. Bury your dead. Come back in January. My class is starting after Twelfth Night. I will myself be going abroad to mourn my own dead, to visit my wife and child. I buried them in the home country, closer to family they knew. Your family and village will need to be buried and mourned. Grieve, Katherine." Stepanov got up and laid a hand on her shoulder in support. "It is not weakness to grieve. Emotions are important, and can be a tool. Feel this, and use it when you are stronger."
Katie looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you."
Stepanov nodded and watched her leave his office. He would inform all of her instructors and take care of her exam schedule. She would probably be ready for them by the end of January. In spite of himself, he had grown somewhat attached to his supervisee.
***
"Why do you think she canceled?" Ginny asked Draco, looking over the identical owls they had received. They were hastily scrawled on scraps of parchment and delivered by one of the official owls of the training program. There was no explanation, just that everything this week would be canceled. It was unlike her; Katie usually had everything planned very far in advance.
But Draco seemed to know something that Ginny didn't; he hadn't been as surprised to see the note as Ginny had been.
"Tell me," Ginny demanded. "You know why."
His eyes flicked up at her and then off to the side, to the meeting room doorway. "Honestly, Weasley, you're a larger idiot than I took you for. Of course I don't know why Bell canceled. It probably has something to do with her exams."
He had pulled out a quill as he spoke, and scratched Our other place underneath Katie's handwriting. Ginny could barely make out the words, as he hadn't used ink. But she nodded her understanding and gathered up her books and backpack. "I suppose you don't want to be seen with the likes of me," she said, managing to sound irritated.
It wasn't too far from the truth, really. She was tired of sneaking about, tired of doubting every open doorway or corridor, tired of the endless torture sessions that were detentions. She was black and blue all over some days, just cursed on others. The pain numbing spell was highly effective, as Katie had told her it would be, but even that couldn't block out everything. Ginny still felt tired and sore at night, still felt like she would break to pieces if this kept up long enough. Her dreams were full of whispers and Parselmouth, dark eyes from a half remembered diary and white-blond hair. The days were dreary, dragging endlessly, and any of the mad schemes she and the remnants of the DA had put together had been toppled one by one. It was hard not to feel frustrated or trapped.
At least taking Draco to the basilisk cavern helped break that particular nightmare. Now she had a hiding place no one else knew about.
Ginny ignored the generic sarcastic comment Draco made in reply. When she left, Crabbe and Goyle were waiting outside for Draco. She supposed he would find her sooner or later. With the cavern less scary for her, she had started doing her homework there. She was even starting to think of beginning another diary. It wasn't as if she had anyone to talk to about her thoughts; she didn't feel comfortable telling Neville or Luna about the relationship she had with Draco. He made her feel safe in a way that they couldn't, and she carried around the ghost of his kiss on her lips for hours afterward.
Maybe this was how it should have been with Harry. Some part of her, the childish girl still hidden deep inside of her, was sad about that. The rest of her was able to push the thought away. They had tried at least. Harry just couldn't be a good boyfriend to her, couldn't be who she needed him to be. And she couldn't be who he needed her to be.
Draco found her there hours later, finishing up her homework. "They... Something happened recently, Gin," he said, sitting down on the floor next to her. "We've been picking up more things than just what they've taught in Dark Arts class."
"I imagine so," she murmured, studiously not looking at his left arm. She didn't want to have to contemplate the fact that it was there.
"Crabbe's been getting extra help from the Carrows," Draco said, hands clasped in front of him. "He's been showing off some of the spells, but he can't control them, not really. And last night, he went to see Norton Flint, to try to convince him to rejoin the Death Eaters. The man's older, has pretty bad arthritis. He's a stone mason, you know... Was a stone mason."
Ginny blinked. "But what does that have to do with anything?"
"Flint's Dad was a Death Eater in the first war, blamed his health on not being part of this one. Marcus joined up in his place. It kept anyone from thinking badly on his Dad, but Crabbe thought he'd make a name for himself by convincing the old man to come back." Draco looked up from his clasped hands. "Crabbe was showing off, trying to say how powerful he was. He wound up burning down the entire village." Ginny gasped and Draco nodded. "Worst part of it is, that was Bell's hometown, too."
Ginny hadn't known that. Draco hadn't known that initially, but he had started looking for any information he could find about her when she showed up in school again. He had wanted to find some kind of dirt on the girl in case she ever accused him of harming her, but there was nothing to be found. She was an ordinary girl from an ordinary village, pure of blood and from a fairly good family. Hers had been a comfortable existence in comparison to Marcus'; the Flints had fallen on tough times with all the deaths in the family and not as much demand for the intricate stone work the Flints were known for.
None of it mattered now, however. Apparently Katie Bell was the only survivor from the village, and it possibly was because she was in the law enforcement program. Crabbe had left the village straightaway, leaving Marcus behind when they started scuffling. Crabbe had laughed when recounting how he had bested Marcus and left him pinned there, that he couldn't try to make Crabbe look bad with the debacle. He had gone back hours later, and the fires were still raging, still consuming everything in the village. There would be nothing left now, nothing but ash and smoldering embers.
Ginny clasped Draco's hand. "We have to go visit her. We have to do something."
"Gin, they're going to shut down the weekends..."
"Unless someone they trust has a pass," Ginny reminded him. "Unless you take me with you to check on her. She's alone, Draco. She's grieving alone, and she's been through so much already. I can't just sit by and do nothing."
"She might not want you about."
"I'd wait, of course. I'm staying over hols." She and Neville both were, and they were planning to sneak through the castle halls and try to do whatever they could to sabotage the remaining Death Eaters in the castle. "Perhaps we could go then. It's the worst time to lose her parents."
Draco thought of the attacks that were planned for the holiday season, the targets that he had heard about and the ones he could only guess at. "I'll owl you. I might not be able to get away. You don't need me to go visit her."
"She's your mentor, too," Ginny murmured, looking down at their clasped hands. "She's a friend, too. We have to stick by her through this. She doesn't have anyone else."
It was his fault she had been hurt the year before, his fault her life had veered course so drastically. He owed her, even if she didn't know it yet.
"All right. I'll try to find a time to visit her with you over hols. Don't do anything stupid or rash or Gryffindor will you? It helps if you're not dead."
Ginny leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly. "I worry about you, too."
Startled, he watched her lean back to collect her things. "You're not staying long tonight?"
She had to meet Luna in the Gryffindor common room to talk strategy, but she couldn't tell Draco that. "I promised to help a friend with homework tonight."
There were too many things half said or completely unsaid between them. Draco nodded, knowing she was lying to him. He also knew he couldn't peer too closely, or else he would have to do something about it. He didn't want to make a choice, didn't want to be put into the position he had be put into last year. He could let Crabbe and Goyle start to pull away if it kept him and his family safe. If it kept Ginny safe.
He didn't belong to either side, really, and that didn't leave him too many options at all.
***
Marcus had explored the Bells' summer home after Katie left. It was a relatively small house compared to the one they had in the village, but it was still larger than the flat the Flints had over their shop. They had left the house stocked up in preparation for random visits, and he went rifling through dressers and drawers and closets. Spencer hadn't been in the house for years according to Katie, and no one had touched the room in his absence before he had borrowed clothes. He had school books in his room; he had likely studied every summer, which explained why he had been an obnoxious swot in school. Katie had books as well, but they were on the beach's flora and fauna, Quidditch strategy or mysteries. He remembered how focused she had been on Quidditch, never paying attention to anyone in the village. She was too good for his lot, most likely. Once Marcus' Quidditch hopes had been ruined, he was lucky any of his monied friends from Hogwarts still talked with him. All he heard at Death Eater meetings was how upstarts didn't know their place, that too many presumed to know them.
He wondered when she would return, and if there would be Order of the Phoenix members with her to arrest him.
Ultimately, it didn't matter. For all that he had hoped to make a better life for himself and his father, it hadn't worked. His father was dead, and he had been left for dead. They probably had a good laugh over it, that the idiot stoneworker thought he could better himself and be like one of them. Marcus would have left the Bells' home if he had anywhere else to go, but there was nothing for him now. No shop, no flat, no allies.
He was reading one of Katie's mystery novels when she apparated back into the summer home. He stuck his finger into the book to hold his place and went into the kitchen. "Katie." She was carrying groceries, and was startled to see him. She was alone, with no indication that she had ever mentioned him to authorities. "I would've thought you'd turn me in."
"Oh. I... I thought you would've gone back to your friends."
Marcus took in her pale face, the dark circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes. She had been crying at some point, though she would never cry in front of him. "The Death Eaters are the ones that burned down the town. So no, not likely I'd go back to them right this moment."
Katie paused in putting the groceries away. "Why did they do it?"
"Showing off," Marcus told her quietly. "Vince thought he could show my father how good they were, how helpful they'd be to him again. As if I hadn't tried the same thing when I joined up."
She looked away from him. They both knew what he was, what she was. They both knew the darker discoloration beneath his burns was the Dark Mark. "Your father was a member, then?"
"Yes, but no," Marcus told her with a sigh. He glanced at his place in the book and put it aside on the counter. She was startled to see him reading her book, but didn't say anything. "He was in the first war, thought maybe he'd get better than he did. But there wasn't any money coming after that, so he didn't rush in this time."
Katie looked up, disturbed. "They promised him money?"
"They promise a lot of things. Wealth, power, a proper place in the world for those with pure enough blood... We never had the money or power. It might've been nice not to struggle so hard for it. We can't all be posh like you," Marcus said, derision coloring his tone. People with money never understood what it was like not to have it.
She was startled by his words. "But we don't... We didn't..."
"You never looked twice at us in the village," Marcus said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Admit it. If not for last night, you'd never have spoken with me."
Color rose to her cheeks. She could remember his callused hands over her, the heat of his mouth over hers. But she was also angry with him, for accusing her of something she wasn't. "I never looked twice at you because I was working for a Quidditch tryout spot. When that was gone, I was getting into the law enforcement program. I wouldn't have talked to you because I didn't know you outside of school! And I wouldn't have been here! I have a flat by the training program so I can study!" Katie jabbed her finger hard into the center of his chest, not far from the bandages. "Don't give me the hate you have, Marcus Flint. I've enough for anybody already."
He caught her wrist in his hand easily, his gaze wary on her angry face. "Why'd you lose your spot, then? You flew well enough for one."
It was compliment, given how well he had flown at school. But Katie narrowed her gaze at him, not ready to let go of her anger yet. She pulled her wrist from his grasp. "One of your Death Eater friends nearly had me killed." Her eyes raked across his face, seeing the genuine surprise there. "Did one of them hurt you? Is that why you can see my scars?"
"What are you on about?"
"You can see my scars," Katie said, though Marcus could tell it was a question. He nodded at her, wondering what was coming next. "Only someone with curse damage can see them."
Marcus reached out and traced a line on her cheek before she twitched away from his touch in annoyance. "Yeah, I suppose I have curse damage."
They stared at each other for a long moment. Marcus didn't want to just tell her, and Katie didn't want to ask. She finally turned away and started putting away the groceries again. "I have to put this away," she said, more to herself than for his benefit.
"Why did you come back? You have this other flat, you said."
"I wanted to be sure you were gone," Katie snapped, voice taut with emotion.
"You were surprised to see me," Marcus pointed out, moving behind her. She was in law enforcement; she could probably seriously hurt him if she wanted to.
"I thought you'd be gone."
"I owe you a wizard's life debt." Katie stiffened at his quiet words. "My father will smack me upside the head if he finds out..." His voice trailed off when he realized what he said, that he had forgotten his father was dead. "Dad would have said something if I'd been remiss in my duties. He stressed that a lot. I owe you a life debt."
Katie could hear the strain in his voice. "I don't want it."
"I still have to offer it."
"I won't be responsible for you."
"Then why did you save my life?" he asked, frustration thick in his voice. "You don't like me, you've never liked me, and you still saved my life. What the hell for?"
She spun around and struck at his chest. "You stupid pillock! Everyone else was dead! I wish it wasn't you. I wish it was my Mum. I wish it was anyone else but me still alive!"
Katie was trembling in his arms, and Marcus sighed as he let his chin drop down over the top of her head. This whole thing had been a cock up from the start. He hadn't meant to antagonize her, and he hadn't meant to shred his heart any further by thinking of how much his father must have suffered when he died. "They're... They were good people, your parents."
She sniffled, but refused to cry against his chest. Her throat felt thick and closed up, as if she was choking on the tears she refused to shed. "Yeah. Your dad was a good sort, too. Mine talked about him sometimes."
Marcus' arms tightened around her shoulders fractionally. "Yeah. He meant well. He said I was stupid to join up, that he'd be fine. But his hands... He couldn't work the stone as well. I tried to help, but he made me go back to finish school."
"That second seventh year?" Katie asked, keeping a tight hold on his shirt. She was clinging to him as if she needed him to stay upright. He nodded against the top of her head. "I nearly died my seventh year. They made that cursed locket part of me to save my life."
Marcus began to stroke the back of her head. "I'm sorry, Katie. My dad said you'd been sick."
"Yeah. I suppose you could say I was."
He had his eyes closed, and could hear the pain in her voice. "Alexandra Montague cursed me to be like stone. Your brother stopped it from being too bad, but he couldn't undo it all."
Katie pulled back in surprise. "What? Why'd she do that?"
"I tried to talk sense into your idiot brother. She wasn't going to turn down a marriage contract and run away with him to be some professor's wife. She's the type that marries for money and looks good in society. She was just stringing him along so he'd do her essays." Katie could feel the truth in that; Spencer had always been blind to his friends' faults if he loved them enough. It sounded like him. "She heard me and cursed me so I'd stay quiet. Spencer undid as much as he could, and convinced her to run away so the authorities wouldn't put her in Azkaban. I told him not to go, but he wouldn't listen."
Katie looked down at the floor. "Sounds like him," she agreed quietly. "Sounds just like him."
"Look. I can leave if you want me to. I'll find someplace to go..."
She reached out and grasped his hand tightly. "No. It's fine. It's all right." She looked up at his blank expression. "I don't want to be alone right now. I need... We need to bury them."
Marcus' carefully blank expression tightened. "There won't be anything left to bury. The only reason I wasn't dead when you got to the shop was that stone is harder to burn. But Fiendfyre eventually burns everything, and nothing's left but ash."
She had been dreading the thought of identifying her parents' remains, but this was somehow worse. "Nothing's left?" He shook his head at her. "My grandparents in the churchyard?" she asked faintly. "Your mum and brothers? All gone?"
Marcus turned away, nodding. "Yeah. Vince is a bigger idiot than I am for believing he can control that fucking spell."
Katie could see her hands shaking when she put away the last of the groceries without looking at Marcus. "Not your friend anymore, then?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Marcus looked at her bowed head, her dark hair a curtain between them. He brushed it away from him, pushing it over her left shoulder. She blinked in surprise but kept her eyes on the counter. "We were never friends," Marcus said shortly.
"We're not friends, either."
Marcus simply looked at her for a long moment. "No, we're not."
She felt raw and tired, and trying to figure this out was too much for her. He didn't make sense to her, and she was sure he would have before this debacle. "So what now, then?"
"I owe you my life," Marcus told her slowly. "And they've shown me what they think of me."
Katie struggled to piece that together, but it was like she was moving underwater. "I could make you help me," she said, her tongue feeling thick and awkward and not her own. "I could make you tell me all about them."
"Or you could ask," Marcus murmured. "I'd tell you if you asked."
"Why?" It wasn't because she had saved his life. He had been too gentle with her the night before, and there was too much care in his posture now. Katie just couldn't piece it together, couldn't see past her own pain and rage and grief.
"Because I'm not who I thought I was. You're the only one to give me a chance like this in a long time." Marcus touched her shoulder gently. "You saved my life even when you didn't have to, even if maybe you didn't want to. That means something. I've had a lot of time to think while you were gone. I'll help you with whatever you want to do."
His life was in her hands. She could break him if she wanted to. If she was angry enough.
She closed her eyes and merely leaned into his touch. "Stay. I'll figure it out later."
***
***
On to the next chapter!