WHAT IS A LEGACY?

Sybill was out in the forest collecting twigs, scowling at ones that didn’t perfectly meet her standards. Ever since she’d been locked up -for her protection- and bouncing around from Order member to Order member, she was trying new forms of Divination in attempt to further the senses of her Inner Eye. Because of her prophecy about the fall of Voldemort, Sybill was now in extreme danger and had to always be under the careful eye of a member of the Order. She went wherever they went and vice versa. This time she was trying to practice Xylomancy, but none of the twigs were speaking to her.

“I think we should just call it a day.” Sybill frowned and turned back to the person who’d been following her.

It could’ve been considered a hobby at this point, Alice often taking shifts to watch Sybill when she could, always finding that she learned a bit from the other every time they interacted. In school Divination was one of Alice’s favorite subjects, even though she never needed it for her NEWTS. Spending time with Sybill became a nice reprieve, it reminded her of her Hogwarts days a bit, the greenery reminding her of the old campus she used to explore. “Why do you say that? There’s a bunch of fine twigs around,” she commented, bringing the bundle she had collected to Sybill. “I could stand to be in the forest a little longer. The lush green’ll do us both good.”

@frtsq​

Nerves were a new sensation entirely. Frank wasn’t accustomed to nerves, especially when it came to Alice. It was difficult to feel nervous around Alice – she was the one person who he could be wholly and completely himself with, who understood him, whom he had known for over fifteen years. Hardly a day had gone by without them seeing each other or speaking to each other. Alice was his closest friend, a person whom he knew that he couldn’t live without and nor would he ever want to. On top of that, Frank knew that all of those thoughts were exactly what had brought him to Alice’s door that night.

The man had a habit of being introspective when life decided to upend everything he had ever known. The overtaking of the Ministry, losing his job. All signs that the war was only about to get worse, and what did Frank have to show for it? His desire to fight and bring justice to every single person threatening the wizarding world was overbearing, but perhaps not as much as the truths that were weighing heavy on his heart. The attack was enough proof, along with his years of being an auror, that life was unexpected and far too short. Spending another day not doing what he was meant to, or not being honest with the one person who made life worth living in the first place, was a day he didn’t wish would come. 

Thus there Frank was, standing outside Alice’s door with its key in his hand and a deep, stabilizing breath in his chest. He had meant to bring something with him – food, drink, so he wasn’t popping in empty-handed, but he had been so wrapped up in the realizations that he apparated to her place as soon as he worked up the nerve. Nerves were foreign to him, sure, but if they finally brought him to the place where he wished to be … they were worth it.

“Hey, Al?” He spoke the greeting after a knock on the door to announce his presence, Frank entering Alice’s place with a heavier chest than he normally did. He left the door open a crack, just in case Alice couldn’t see him, but he was sure to bend down to greet Aster who had bound up to him with happy barks and a fast wagging tail. Scratching the dog behind his ears Frank watched for any sign from her. “It’s me. Are you busy?” 

“Never too busy for you. Please come in, Frank, I’m just attempting to cook something for dinner but I might go over to Uncle Flo’s because this is turning into a nightmare,” it was just supposed to be some chicken and rice -- Alice figured she could’ve managed that with all the free time she had now but apparently fate had other plans. “I’m sticking to breakfast food from now on, this is a proper mess.”

Being fired from the job of her dreams weighed heavily on Alice. She’d barely been able to sleep, she’d barely been able to eat, she went on her runs for a little too long. The lack of an outlet, the lack of a job -- the job -- was soul crushing. It was all she worked for for the majority of her life, so when she got fired, she felt lost. It was the first time she could fully admit it and believe it -- that she was lost. Before, it had just been some angst, the fact that the war had claimed her youth, that admittance to the Auror Academy while serendipitous also meant sacrifice -- that she was then a vessel for the Greater Good and that only. Her identity was tied to it, her dreams too, and it was all gone. She had to pick up and learn herself away from her now former job, away from what it all meant and it wasn’t easy -- especially when the world was crumbling apart.

  Frank, who had been a rock ( when was he not? ), had been one of the reasons the transition hadn’t been as grueling as it could’ve been. Sure, they still had the Order but he knew the feeling she felt completely -- to lose what what they had worked for. When Alice was forced to recenter herself, her world, and found that it was the people that made it worth living -- something she’d lost sight of when being so entrenched into the Aurors -- not the job.  A younger Alice would’ve hit her own self over the head at having to come back to this realization, because it was so obvious, wasn’t it? But she had lost sight. It was humbling to admit. 

Alice went to taste the sauce, before making a face, “garbage. Absolute garbage.” Finally, she went to see Frank, popping her head out from the kitchen, looking at him. “D’you want to come with me to Flo’s? He’s always got the best wine and I think we both need some wine right now.”

Family and close friends had been in and out of the Burrow the week following the attack at the Ministry. Molly swore to Arthur she’d be fine and that she understood people wanted to send their condolences. Everyone was grieving because everyone had lost so much during the attack. She was almost thankful that Arthur had lost his job because she didn’t know what she and Gideon would do if they lost both Fabian and Arthur. The loss of her baby brother was enough to already send her over the edge. She put on a brave face for guests, wishing them well during this trying time. As soon as she thought everyone had left, Molly excused herself to the kitchen and wiped the tears that never seemed to stop.

“Fabian, why didn’t you tell me you had so many fucking friends.” Molly started talking to him a few days ago– it helped her cope by feeling like he was watching over her shoulder. She let out a long groan and wiped her face dry. “I can’t do this all fucking day..”

“Oh Molly,” Alice’s voice was soft as she moved towards Molly, putting a soft arm around her shoulders. As of late it felt like the people she was around most were grievers, people who had lost family, friends, loved ones in every capacity. Sure, DEATH had been in the air before, it had claimed lives on the weekly but this time around after the attack at the Ministry, after everything that had happened -- they’d lost more than anticipated. That was war, as she came to know, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

“You don’t need to do anything, let me. You’ve got people who will be there, okay? You’ve got me, Arthur, countless friends, the boys even. If you need to take a break or just nap or do anything you need, I’ll do what I can to help. You’re not doing this alone, Molls.” Alice ached for her friend but she wanted to assure her she’d be a pillar she could count on, someone to depend on to make a terrible time like this even slightly easier. “Do you want me to start on cleaning the living room? Or do you want me to keep you company?”

CLEANING. That’s all she’d been doing to her flat since she invited Andromeda to come over. It’d been a few days since the festival, three to be exact, and the fact that Evan had the Dark Mark on his forearm had been weighing on her heavily. But out of all the things she wanted to do with the information itself, she felt an obligation to tell Andromeda. Evan and Andy were family, it didn’t matter that she was burnt off the family tree, it didn’t matter that her family would barely talk to her, she knew that Andromeda would want to know -- and maybe it was selfish of Alice but she couldn’t carry the weight of the information alone. Alice had been thinking on her sofa when she heard the knock at the door, walking to open it. “Hey, Andy. Did you bring the wine? We’re going to need wine.”

There she was. Optimistic of his being as ever. “I don’t owe anything to me.” He murmured, flat in that opinion. “The other day…. I packed.” A lump caught in his throat at the memory, like a painful reminder. “I was going to find you… Andy. Someone.” His eyes shut instantly, pushing the image from his mind of what happened next. “He almost killed her.” Shaking his head, he looked down at the ground and tears freely fell. “That last time…. that last time we were together, he did the same thing. I told him I wasn’t going to remain on his side. It was…. It was the most liberating thing I’ve ever felt in my whole life. After being with you… I felt like I could do anything and he just…. He took it away.” How long had he kept his reasons secret? How long had he remained so quiet about it all. “I’ll never get this mark off me. You and I know that.” He rolled his sleeve up. “We talk about choices like they matter. We talk about free will. He said he’d do that to you, to Andy. Even Narcissa, and everyone I have ever cared for, and he can. All I ever wanted was to stay with you.”

Turning, the five minutes of bravery were coming to a close. “I just… I didn’t know how to protect everyone…. I still don’t. I am so lost. I’m drowning Alice…. I’ve been drowning every single day. And I just… I need to know what to do. What’s the right thing to do? I would die if I lost her. I would die if I lost Andy or Narcissa. Even Bell. But I couldn’t bear living in a world where you don’t exist either. I just…. Even if you had to exist without me, the world is brighter because you’re here. You’re the only light I’ve ever truly known. And I feel like the closer I come to you… The dimmer that light is.”

Everything was unfurling, she could see him unraveling in front of her, the truth came out and questions that she had wanted answers to long ago, revealed. Alice watched him talk, hanging onto every word he said. 

It was a sobering thing to see, the Dark Mark on someone’s arm. On Evan’s arm. Sometimes, certain things were able to snap you out of a drunken state and this did. She’d been offering words of hope, she’d been drunk. In her drunken state she’d been a fool to say the things she had -- right? It was like being snapped out of a haze, the reality of the situation was bleak. Beyond so. Her eyes were now glued to the mark as he talked, flickering between Evan’s mouth, his eyes, his forearm. ALWAYS coming back to his forearm. 

We talk about choices like they matter. It struck a chord with Alice, because she knew how much of his life was already laid out and scripted for him. She knew what he was risking by showing her everything, by confiding in her, by letting her in all the way. She was risking just the same. Alice wasn’t going to walk away then, but she could resonate in his feeling of feeling lost -- because sometimes she did too. She had the Order, but how long before they fell? How long before they were all hauled off and brought to Azkaban? What would happen to Evan if he ran? What could the Order do? There had to be something that she’d be able to do -- right? 

 ( There was the bitter feeling crawling up her gut, closing around her throat, because a part of her now was angry that he’d put her in this position, that after so many years he’d finally said something to her. When so much was already lost, when they could’ve used him so many years ago, but she pushed it down. Not now. Not now. )

“I - I,” right now, she wasn’t sure what to suggest besides patricide -- so she didn’t say a thing. Alice let a few beats pass between them before she spoke again, this time making sure she’d actually form words. 

 “Evan,” she started, considering her words carefully, “I can’t tell you what to do now. I can’t decide what to do right this second. This takes ... thought. It’s going to take a lot of thought.” Translation: I have no idea what to do.

“But I’ll figure it out. With you. I’ll try. But the fact that you have the mark, Evan...--” she stopped, knowing she was getting into trouble, knowing that no matter what this ended badly. Deep down, Alice knew that this was the sure outcome for him, that when they’d ended all those years ago it was because of this but it didn’t make it easier to face. “When did this happen?”

Alastor only grunted in response, turning and dropping his hand as soon as he realized it was Alice. It was endlessly irritating that she had been around for long enough to know him—Alastor had very carefully and very efficiently cut ties with most of the people from his past, but Alice had stuck around. Most people hadn’t been able to handle the anger that had characterized Alastor for the past four years. After his parents died, it had been one thing. When Andrew had been murdered, it had broken him. If Alastor, so careful, so meticulous, couldn’t even protect his brother, what hope did any of them have? Hatred festered in his heart like a sore, and it made him callous and cold. Before that, Alastor had been amiable, if a bit serious. He knew how to have fun every once in a while, and he didn’t purposefully push people away (only unintentionally). He smiled more. 

The difference between Alice and the other people he had effectively cut off was that his anger never scared her away. Alastor wondered if she was looking for something underneath the hatred—he didn’t know how to tell her that his rage was all he had left. “I don’t think Azkaban has adjoining cells like a hotel,” he pointed out. He pulled his gloves off and tucked them into his pocket, the charm on his glove making sure the dust from the street stayed perfectly preserved on his leather fingertip. “Missing boy,” he said. “He’s only seventeen,” Alastor added darkly, the hatred flaring once more in his chest. “There’s not even enough for one person to go on,” he replied to her question. “I doubt we could stretch it for two.” Mostly, Alastor liked to work alone. It was just another strategy he had built up to keep everyone at arm’s length. 

“So warm, so welcoming, nice to see you too, Alice,” she further teased, knowing she was definitely pushing it. Still, it was Alastor -- he was one of the good ones in her life. It didn’t matter that he had become an echo of who he used to be, an angry man with a wall up as emotionally charged as Berlin’s. Alice wondered if she’d ever know what it was like to be as angry as Alastor was ( she hoped she never did ). Sure, she was angry at the state of the world -- it drove her to work harder than she ever had before. Even fired, Alice still checked up on old cases, people, things, she put everything she had into the Order, into building it, into recruiting, into missions -- sacrificing sleep. But the anger Alastor had? It wasn’t something she could fathom. His was a cold anger, it iced out, it kept people away. Alice hadn’t been scared, she figured it was an appropriate reaction to losing the people you loved most in your life, especially in the brutal manner that Alastor had.

“Oh, Azkaban’s not like a hotel? Noted,” Alice deeply respected what Alastor still did, being a PI was no easy work especially when Code 4′s like them were barred from doing anything of importance. Even going to the Ministry to get her Apparition’s license renewed was more arduous than it even had been before. But the fact that Alastor Moody, even after everything was a PI, still working, it showed that even after all that happened he was able to do some good for the world. Maybe he didn’t see it that way, but she did. “Is this the McAllister boy? The one who’s mum said he liked unicorns? Who was last seen at the Magical Menagerie arguing with the shop keeper? There’s been a ton of missing persons lately, especially under the age of 21 or so.  ”

He knew how much she was risking. Just by being near him, she was risking his father’s wrath in some cheap way or another. But still, he managed to dodge people left and right before they settled into step with one another, heading for the outskirts of the festival. “I’ve been thinking…. A lot. Lately, everything seems so out of reach. I know you don’t care, I know I lost the right to ask you to a long time ago. But… I need you to know that everything I have done to be a better man…. Everything that I have done to try to remain good….” Once they were out of earshot of everyone, he came to a halt, not looking at her nor anyone particularly. “Is because of you.” A breath escaped him as he stood there, the weight falling off his shoulders once he was out of eye sight of those who put the weight on in the first place. “But I think…. I think when this war finally makes it’s way out of the shadows…. I think I won’t survive it.” He swallowed hard as he looked around. “I don’t think I want to.”

The farther they got away from the crowd, walking away in tandem from all the people around them, Alice was able to relax just slightly.  As he started talking, Alice took a deep breath then let it out -- the next words out of his mouth gave her a lot to think about. All of his words did. Did he have a death wish? Had he always had a death wish? Why was he telling her now? “Be a better man for yourself, not for me, Evan. You don’t owe it to anyone but yourself. You don’t owe it to me. You don’t owe it to your sister. You owe it to YOURSELF.” Her words were strong as she looked him in the eye, she wanted him to know she meant what she said, that there was no regret in letting him know her feelings then. It may have been years later, but she could’ve sworn she had taken a Timeturner and gone back in time to when they were young. Her being in his corner fiercely, her putting her all into encouraging him to choose not to follow in his families footsteps. “There’s so much you could do and do good. I know you think it’s too late but it’s never too late.” 

“And he loves his pale ale.” Grinning, he shot down another shot and took a swig of his Guiness, humming as he rubbed his chin. “What else can we drink at? Anytime someone says mooncalves. That’s a sure way to get us sauced.” He pondered. Running a hand through his hair, though, he sighed. “Regardless, we should at least talk about the fact that you and I should get drunk enough to get tattoos. ‘Beer mates for life’. Something reasonably ridiculous, another addition to my growing collection.”

“Beer mates for life? Please we need something more ORIGINAL than that,” the prospect of a tattoo was appealing, Alice hadn’t gotten any in what felt like a long time. “Well, we can drink every time someone talks about dung of mooncalves too. Also, back to beer mates for life, I’ve decided it’s not as stupid as I thought it was when you first said it but we’d need a wicked illustration. I don’t just want the words ‘beer mates for life’.”

“Just so hard to find good help these days, you know?” Joking about everything was Mary’s way of dealing with it all – it was never real if you didn’t admit to it. Maybe Alice was the same way; maybe laughing about Florean or just making jokes about the Parlour numbed the pain of not being an Auror. Or maybe, and Mary fervently hoped it was this option, Alice was genuinely enjoying her new job. It wasn’t the same, not by a long shot, and she got that. Her job was never her dream, either – but she had never had her dreams ripped away. She couldn’t even imagine how that felt; but she knew with certainty that this was neither the time nor place for such thoughts of conversations. Not when her friend was happy and she had heavenly ice cream in her mouth. “I am very happy to contribute to your sleeping patterns, because really, this is great. I may be going to the shop a lot more often now just for this. I mean – to see you, but this is a great side benefit.”

“Tell me about it,” she joked back, though Alice knew that even though they were joking, acting like high aristocratic people, that it was actually difficult to find people willing to work with a bunch of Code 4s. Sure, some people’s rebellion was simply moving on with their lives like nothing had happened -- but so much had. Throwing herself into her work at Fortescue’s was the least that Alice could do, it was a special form of escapism that generated income at the very least. Plus, at least she was working for her uncle and not the corrupt Ministry. That was one thing she didn’t miss, she didn’t miss the influx of prejudice and bigotry that started to raid the halls of the Ministry, she didn’t miss the attitudes of some of her coworkers who couldn’t have cared less about their job and more about their paycheck. It was nice to bring happiness in whatever form there was -- even if it was just ice cream. Did she miss being an Auror? Everyday. Both conflicting feelings managed to exist at the same time.“Oh please, I know I’m not the star of the occasion here. It’s the ice cream. I don’t feel bad. But being able to see you more will be wonderful. We’re going to need tons of quality checking on this new flavor. How are you doing, anyways, Miss Mac? Been up to any trouble during the festival?”

‘‘It’s like white tail or something like that; I don’t remember, but I could definitely point out the bottle.’‘ Frank slurred his words as they walked through the crowds at the festival; his arm tightening round her shoulders. ‘‘Listen to you; you know if I didn’t know you better. I’d say you were trying to get into my pants Fortescue. I do hate my job; but it’s a good place to listen in on conversations.’‘ Frank admitted, smiling at her for a minute. It would be lovely to work with Alice; instead of pulling pints in a dreary pub. ‘‘However, that is a lovely thought. Thank you very much for the offer.’‘ Frank followed her gaze; letting out a laugh when she started to panic. ‘‘Ali; it’s fine. We’ll sort something, we’re not going to be stuck in a field. There’s beds here for people who can’t get home. So if we’re stuck we can just sleep here. It’s fine!!’‘ He protested as she pulled him over the field towards where the portkeys back to London where going from. 

“Sure hope it doesn’t have any actual tails in it,” though knowing the Wizarding World, it was a definite possibility. “Maybe I am trying to get into your pants! Maybe you’ve caught me! Whatever shall I do now,” she teased as they walked, sticking her tongue out. Though, she heard his concerns and his comment about listening in on conversations. It was something she admired about Frank, something that also echoed within herself -- making the best out of situation that was otherwise intolerable. It inspired her to keep going, even when she just wanted to leave it all, escape and see the world. “OH? Have you heard anything juicy yet? Anything helpful from listening in on those conversations?” Alice was genuinely curious, though she imagined he probably heard a lot of stupid conversations in between all the interesting ones. “But I’ve got to check on Aster! I miss Aster, too. I can’t just leave him alone all night. He needs me to cuddle him to sleep, he’s very sensitive that way.”

Lather, rinse, repeat. Alastor’s days consisted of the same thing, over and over. His nights, even more so. He liked his life this way, however, and he liked the feeling of knowing what was coming next—of knowing what each day would hold, at least to an extent. An auror’s life, the life that Alastor used to live was disciplined. He knew what he was going to do each day, and even though he didn’t know where the twists and turns of an investigation would lead him, he knew that he could count on something to keep his mind occupied. That was why, after a few months of unemployment, he couldn’t stand it anymore and he became an investigator for hire—not to mention, he knew it would piss off the aurors still left at the Ministry. 

That day, he was tracking down yet another missing person; there were too many missing persons lately, too many for Alastor to keep up, too many that the auror office didn’t care about. He crouched down, studying a dried, dirty footprint just barely visible against the cobblestone of the narrow street. He cocked his head to the side, running a gloved fingertip through the dirt and watching it luminesce ever so slightly against the black leather. As he heard someone else nearby, however, Alastor abruptly stood. “There’s no law against tying your shoes,” he said, not yet turning. His hand drifted towards his wand—English oak, 11 inches, phoenix feather core, unyielding—stowed carefully in his jacket (for he knew wizards who had lost buttocks in terrible mishaps). “You’ll have to wait another day to haul me to Azkaban.”

“Tying your shoes?” She wanted to laugh because she wasn’t even sure that Alastor’s shoes had ties in them. Alice didn’t push it though -- she wasn’t there to bother him about that. “We’ll be getting adjoining cells if anything. You know, if I had a knut everytime someone said that -- myself included -- I’d be rich enough to buy Azkaban.” Not that that she’d ever do so, she couldn’t imagine owning such a horrible place. It was easy to joke about it though, especially with Moody, whom she considered a good friend. It didn’t matter that his whole disposition had changed within the last few years because he’d been through tragedy that changed the fabric of your personhood. Alice remembered when she lost her father, the person she was closest to in the world, how it mangled her into someone intense and obsessive. How it made her even more one track minded than she had been before while unraveling her being at the same time. After Alastor lost his brother? Nothing was the same for him, Alice knew that, so she offered him grace.

“So...who’re you tracking?” She’d noticed him on her way out of Fortescue’s, her shift had been over and she was headed to bother Frank at the Leaky when she saw Moody wading through the crowd with purpose. She hadn’t known what he was doing but she didn’t care, he looked like he was doing something and that was enough for her. “Care for a partner?”

The halls of Hogwarts was not the most positive selling point, but the blonde kept thought to herself, she gained nothing in rattling the other at this point. “Lemon cake will do fine.” She simply put almost as an afterthought she added the words “Please.” At the end. Her father would say that as a Black she owed no one nothing, the world owed them, yet her mother had always stressed the importance of manners when it came to being a lady.  “I’m sure it will.” Opening her handbag she took out a sum of money holding it out to the other.” I don’t carry anything smaller, keep the change.”

The amount of money that Narcissa gave her was far too much in her opinion, though she doubted it was an act of charity. Or maybe it was a backhanded act of charity, either way, Alice took the money with ease, a smile still on her face. Going to scoop up a good amount of the Lemon Cake for Narcissa to eat, Alice put it in a cup and gave it to Narcissa. “There you go, do you need anything else?”

Severus was silent for a beat, weighing his options. It would probably be best for him if he just walked away now, but he hadn’t already put this much effort in to come away empty handed - so he thought about it for a second more before answering. “One hundred and sixty two?”

“So so close, you’re six off,” he was, and he was so close that Alice just wanted to give him free ice cream. “IF you can guess if it’s six lower or higher, I’ll give you free ice cream. Though, I’m debating whether or not I should just give you some now for going along with this little game. It’s the least I could do after torturing you with it.” 

With a smirk, she turned, surveying the room to see if she was correct. Which, of course, she was. What were the odds, really? That every decently attractive man in the place was spoken for. “Alright, fine. So maybe I’ll find a woman to take me home.” She winked at her, watching proudly as she followed suit and took her own shoes off. “Really, it’s just being practical.” She chuckled, straightening once more and offering Alice her hand. “Shall we?”

“Hmm maybe that woman will be me, who knows, just a thought,” Alice winked back, “though I think you’ll have much better odds with that. Though, in my humble opinion, to any gender I think you’re irresistible.” Taking Gianna’s hand, she smiled, “we shall.” Pulling her towards the dance floor, Alice started to shimmy, not caring that they weren’t even on the dance floor properly yet, because she was just ready to dance with Gianna, to have a good time, to let go.