Reparo

     “It would be great, wouldn’t it, if the Ministry truly cared, even just once?” Isabella huffed, irritation making her nostrils flare. She was sick and tired of the cover up, of the insistence that everything was normal. Maybe it was, for some people. For others? It wasn’t. She picked angrily at the herbs in front of her, practically ripping the leaves from the stem though she knew it was far from the most efficient way to replace her stores. She couldn’t help it. For the first time in a very long time, she was enraged. She continued to add the leaves to the pile, intending to crush them after she’d collected enough. “But instead, we continue to play games. They promise everything’s under control, but why should we trust them when they aren’t transparent?” She knew it wasn’t entirely fair. Her own cousins worked within the Ministry framework, but she’d gone again that morning to ask after Winter and had gotten nowhere, and that didn’t even touch on the graves. Poor Myrtle. 

    Jacqueline had struggled to fit back in with the rest of the wizarding world after they had returned, and Isabella had been their guiding light through all of it. They had been disheartened to learn that many people still looked at Jacqueline and saw their father in their eyes, but Isa and her small group of friends had never seemed to see the same, or at least, they had never been bothered enough by it to mention it in conversation. Jacq had been grateful to their cousin for everything she had done for them, so making the occasional dinner and tidying the house seemed like the very least they could do.

    “I know that you could have done, but I wanted to do something nice for you for a change” they replied, smiling brightly as they turned away from the counter and watched Isa lean against the doorframe, evidentially exhausted from her day at work and whatever else seemed to be occupying her mind these days. “You are busy as well Isa and besides, most of my training this week has been completed and all I am focusing on is other Auror’s paperwork, which I am more than happy to put off for a while”.

    They shook their head. “I didn’t open it and I didn’t recognise the handwriting” they replied, not that they had expected too. If they were not a senior member of the Auror Department, their handwriting was forgettable. Their eyes widened at Isa’s sharp response, realising that they must have been waiting on something important. “I think… I think it’s under the table” they pointed, moving quickly over to check. Stray had indeed left it under one of the chairs, tucked neatly underneath he table. They grabbed it out and held it up. “It was just a tawny owl. Why, Isa?” they asked, concern shining in their bright eyes. “Is something wrong?”

-

  “That’s very kind of you, Jacq.” Isa softened, appreciating her cousin’s attempt at kindness, at the effort put forth in taking something from Isabella’s own plate. Merlin knew she needed it, even if she wasn’t ready to confess as much out loud. She’d always encouraged friends of hers to be unashamed of asking for help, but it wasn’t something that came easily to her own person. “I am,” She agreed, wondering if perhaps acknowledging how busy she’d been would help her show herself some grace. She didn’t think it would. “Paperwork,” She laughed, nodding in understanding. Half her job was paperwork, usually after she was too exhausted to really keep her eyes open. She didn’t envy Jacq that. “Paperwork is exhausting in it’s own right,” She added, “But thank you.” 

    She exhaled, appreciating that they respected her privacy, but it didn’t stop the way her heart raced. She watched as Jacq retrieved the letter, and took it at once, eyes sweeping over the script. It was just a letter from the Magpies, important yes, but not in the way that she desired. Isa exhaled, bringing her hand to her nose, smoothing over the ache there. “It’s––” nothing. She wanted to say nothing. Instead, a hiccup of a sob threatened to escape as she tried to stay upright. “Someone I care very deeply for is missing, and I don’t think anyone is taking it seriously. I’ve been trying to track them down, but I have no more loose ends to follow and I––” Her stomach turned, as she blinked away the tears. “I don’t know what else to do, but something feels very, very wrong.” She felt it in her core, and she couldn’t ignore it. 

WHO: @isamacmillan​ WHERE: anywhere

“Let me see the wound.”         “It’s nothing terrible, really. Looks much worse than it is.” She hadn’t lost any range of movement in her hand, but keeping it still enough to not cause the bleeding to pick up again was nearly impossible. “I ran out of my own healing potions, and I left my wand at Cyg’s house yesterday.”

-

  “Left your wand?” Isa asked, brows furrowing. She couldn’t imagine leaving her wand anywhere, especially not in the climate of their world these days. Her hands were gentle as she examined the wound, agreeing that it didn’t seem life-threatening. It wasn’t the first time someone had been so nonchalant about their wounds, and it didn’t bother her, but she would tend to it properly. “I’m going to immobilize your hand,” She warned, before pulling her own wand free, incantation as familiar as saying hello. It would hopefully help prevent increased bleeding. “How did you get injured?” She added, curious. 

Dermot Kennedy - After Rain (Acoustic version!) 

You call arrows to fall short Because the snow is at our feet And when embraces subside, and the lilies have died It comes down to her tears on a sheet

But it's alright because You cause lanterns to light And force demons disperse And if Lucifer may fear the swift drying of tears Then, for evil, you could not be worse

But I see you now, yeah, I see you And release me now, kinda like dreams do And I see you now, was hard to see you Just don't forget to sing Remember everything

And you're the only little girl I know who'd bring a kite in the snow Said, "You just gonna hold it up?" Said, "Nah, I'm gonna let it go" And when your heart hurts, days like today are the antidote If you think just maybe it's her Then promise me, young man, you're gonna let her know

You won't go lonely, yeah You won't go lonely, yeah You won't go lonely, yeah You won't go lonely, yeah

Where: Isa’s place With: @isamacmillan​

Jacq adored Isa’s place, though it was nothing like what they had been used too. Their parents home had been large, lavish but cold and almost empty in feeling. The rooms had been filled with old antiques and creepy looking portraits of past relatives who did nothing but stare and sneer as any person passed them. They had gotten chills walking through the dark, narrow hallways between rooms, but they had also become familiar, to the point where they had felt like a small ghost, wandering the darkest passages and haunting the manor that had never felt like a home. Jacq wasn’t sure what had become of that house; whether their mother still lived there now that their father was imprisoned. They weren’t entirely sure that they cared.

Isa’s place could not have been more different. The townhouse had a homely feel to it. The walls were adorned with beautiful paintings and every surface carried some ornament or piece of sentimental value, that Isa had collected or been gifted. The garden had always been Jacq’s favourite place. They had enjoyed spending long, sleepy summer afternoons among the honeysuckle and the buzzing of bees, feeling at peace with a world that often pushed them aside, or made them feel unwelcome. That day though Jacq pottered around the kitchen, attempting to cook a meal that Isa would like and that they wouldn’t burn to a crisp. Stray, their fluffy white cat, sat by their feet and followed them around the room every them they moved from one counter top to another, meowing indignantly. They were unimpressed by Jacq’s meddling earlier while they had attempted to hunt Callix, or by the fact that Jacq had yet to offer them any human food.

They only noticed Isa’s approach when Stray stretched, meowed loudly and began trotting away from them. Following the cat with their eyes, and smiling softly as they met Isa’s, they gestured around the room with a small shrug. Isa had been out of sorts. Jacq didn’t know much; but they knew that.  Something was bothering her, and though they wouldn’t push, given that she had never pushed Jacq on the details of their time away from the Wizarding World they both knew and mostly loved, they still wanted to help if they could. Even with just the small things. Anything that could make her smile or distract her from her thoughts for even a few moments. “There was a letter for you on the table. I didn’t open it, but Stray attempted to catch the owl and may have chewed off a corner” they admitted, a little embarrassed. “We may need to search for it again. I’m making dinner, if you… are you here for dinner tonight?”

-

    Spiraling. Isabella was spiraling. She knew it. She knew her cousins noticed it too, but no matter how hard she tried not to, she couldn’t stop it. She’d settled into a rhythm of sorts, waking up, preparing breakfast for the household, tidying up, work, errands, checking with anyone she could about winter, making dinner, taking care of Callix, checking over her notes about Winter, attempting to sleep, repeating. She tried desperately to stay busy, so busy that she couldn’t let her mind wander into the worst ‘what ifs’. She’d made reports, but the Aurors had been far from helpful. They didn’t know where Winter was. They couldn’t confirm or deny anything. She’d been desperate enough to pull out the box of things she still had from her time investigating with Arabella. Maybe she should’ve been an investigative journalist instead of a healer. Healers were supposed to fix things, weren’t they? She’d done very little of that lately. 

     She had every intention of making dinner for the three of them, but she stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, pausing when she saw Jacq working. It wasn’t that she didn’t think her cousin was capable, it was just, she’d fallen into her routine. She softened, eyes tired, body tired, as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She was still in her uniform for work, and she desperately needed to rest for a few moments, but this meant she could go to the study, lock herself away with the very little information she had. “Thank you, darling. This is very sweet, but I could have done it. You’re no doubt busy with all this mess.” She added, out of habit more than anything. 

     Isa paused, heart racing at the mention of a letter. “Did you see who it was from?” She asked, straightening, eyes wild for a moment. “Where is it?” She asked, voice a bit sharper than she intended it to be as she moved closer. What if it was a response? Would he have sent an owl in return? “Did you see the owl?” She asked, voice wavering. 

   Isa wasn’t thrilled, to say the least. She did her best to avoid the shop in Knockturn, though she was far from a stranger to the alley. The apothecary there, for instance, sold things she used frequently for healing and had the best selection of tools as well. Her mother preferred the shop, and though she hadn’t made any final decisions yet, she knew she would be pursuing healing more intensely soon. She just wanted to help Bella finish her article first. She’d be meeting her later that afternoon. In her honest opinion there was zero reason for Orpheus’ shop, though. Those items should’ve been destroyed, or placed somewhere for educational purposes. The whole place gave her the heebie jeebies, but Evander promised it would be a quick in and out. She wouldn’t need to linger. 

    She frowned as she pushed the door open, a chill in the air as autumn crept more fully into town. The chill didn’t feel like it came from the autumn breeze though. She glanced around, frowning at the items displayed carefully and neatly throughout. The shop was quiet, though not empty, and she couldn’t help but study the face of the man who scowled in return. What was he after? What use did he have for such things? Isa exhaled, making her way around the stands and shelves, avoiding looking too closely. She didn’t want to know, not really, but it seemed Orpheus was with another customer, which meant linger she would. Evander had asked her to pick up a parcel, but she couldn’t help wondering what on earth he wanted from this place. 

   She drew her fingers gently across the glass display case nearest to her, waiting impatiently, when suddenly one of the items in the case moved. She gasped, pulling her fingers back quickly as she staggered backward. The book had lunged at her, growling deeply, and it had disturbed the necklace beside it that rattled, chain tightening as if it sought to squeeze the life from it’s prey. Her heart rabbited, as she tried to steady her breath. The items were in the case. They couldn’t hurt her. She looked back toward Orpheus, relieved to find the other customer had gone and made her way over. “Good afternoon,” She greeted, politely as chimes seemed to ring, somehow hollow and haunting, from somewhere else in the shop despite the lack of wind. “I’m picking up a parcel for Evander, please.” She explained, hoping to make this fast.

Georgie happily ordered the pastry and her coffee. She knew it was going to be a long evening. “Just busy,” she said with a shrug. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust people. She did. But the last thing she wanted was word getting out that she was stressed. It was getting harder and harder for her to hide, at least in her mind. She was quite an actress when it came to presenting to the public. “It seems recent events have shaken some people. Committing offenses they might not normally. Needing to change their wills and sure up their inheritances.” She tucked the croissant into her bag while she grabbed her coffee. “Nothing like a tragedy to get people thinking about the future.” Or the creepy cult that seemed to be happening all around them. “You went into healing, yes? How is that?” 

-

  Isa smiled, watching as Georgie ordered her treat. It did look delicious, but she’d make something at home if her sweet tooth came back to haunt her. She hadn’t baked in ages, maybe it would do her some good. She could invite Lu over, or even see if Effie was around. She had a muggle baking book she’d been dying to try out. Her attention refocused to Georgie, smile polite but not overly friendly. “I can only imagine,” She murmured, finding that law was far from something she personally would enjoy. “They should shake people.” She insisted, firm in that. This wasn’t a small deal, it needed to be taken seriously. “But that makes sense, wills and inheritances, that sounds exhausting.” She confessed, before sipping her drink. “I did,” She nodded. “It’s more recent, I started as a tutor, and that was nice, but healing is much better. I’m working with the Magpies right now, there’s never a dull moment.” 

OPEN || literally anywhere but the Hog’s Head

Abe loved the faces of people realizing they were seeing him outside of the pub; playing up the part of hermit was one of the things he enjoyed most, so, naturally, their shock (and sometimes confusion) fueled him. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, speaking with a grin, “It’s okay, you’re not seeing things. I’m allowed to leave the pub, I double-checked with my legal counsel.”

-

  Isa’s nose wrinkled at the smoke as she lifted her hand to gently brush it away. She offered what could pass for a smile, before raising a brow. “Checking with Fedya is hardly unbiased,” She teased, though her smile didn’t meet her eyes and there was hardly a laugh there. She reached up, pulling her coat tighter around her. January was often far colder than December, with less of the festive warmth to combat the cold. “But you’re absolutely right, you’re always welcome, Abe.” She reassured, exhaling as she leaned back against the brick. She just needed a minute, and then she’d head to the Floo and off to work. Her eyes drifted, glancing toward the vacant stand nestled between the other, busier stands in Diagon. “You’re great with animals, aren’t you?” She asked, suddenly. “Do you have time to come by my home today?” She asked, looking back to him, eyes softer. 

He nodded his head. Honestly, taking her home was the least he could do. Considering what he had done, he owed her more than that. He would need to figure out something to do for next practice. Was a fruit basket too much? O not enough? Probably jewelry. Girls liked that right? He really should know this by now. He held his arm out for her to take after grabbing the books with his other arm. “Would it be more comfortable for you to apperate or floo?” He hadn’t been to her home before so he was trying to be nice by letting her choose. It would be rude to do something that might hurt her even more. 

“I’m ready for the season,” he said with no hesitation. He much preferred playing to all this. He would still do it, sure. Especially for the kids. He preferred them to most. During the season it was just a quick interview after the game. Maybe something the next day. But that was it. It wasn’t hours and hours of trying to entertain people and be what they wanted. It was too much most of the time. “We’ve been practicing some new moves that I think might win us the cup this year.”

-

  Isa smiled, touched that Andrew seemed to genuinely care about her well-being. They’d had plenty of opportunities to get to know one another since she started with the Magpies, but so much of their time was busy and focused. It was nice to see him outside of work, even if it had led to an injury. From her initial assessment, it would be quickly healed once she could focus on it, she just intended to get home first so she could assess the wound properly in the light. “Oh, no, that’s alright. Truthfully I think apparating would be more risky, jostling my arm, we’ll Floo when we get closer.” She admitted, appreciating him giving her the choice. She would take the slow and steady way, simply walking until they made it to the fireplace. 

    She took his arm with her good hand, fingers gentle as she walked with him, listening with interest to his response. “That doesn’t surprise me,” She smiled, teasing him. He definitely didn’t seem the type to enjoy these forced publicity events, even if it suited his career. “That’s wonderful, I’m rooting for you guys, always.” She brightened, finding she enjoyed watching their practices as much as real matches. “You should teach me some flying tricks, I never really was all that good in school, but there’s something pleasant about flying. What do you say?”

His heart clenched then sank as soon as he stepped inside her flat. Her words poured out, soaking into his skin and wrapped around his throat. Evander knew of his sister’s involvement with the prophet’s article. Knew that she had at least something to do with it. It was well known between the two of them how he had felt about Arabella’s friendship with her. How he felt about her in general. But this was not the time nor place for him to voice his opinions on those things. Evander could feel Isabella’s frantic desperation fill the space between them. He closed his eyes, allowing her to say what she needed to. She was too young to remember anything about what happened before. They both were. But the difference was that he had more of a memory of the way things had played out. He remembered all the violence and fighting that had ensued. He also knew that if Isabella ever knew that he was helping things progress the way they were that she would never speak to him again.

So, he kept his mouth shut. Held his tongue on matters that were sensitive to talk about with her. And more importantly, he kept his dealings with Tom Riddle to himself. Of course, he had questions about her attending the New Year’s celebration at the Shafiq’s. His sister’s safety would always be his first priority. Whether he was one of the people threatening that or not. Evander truly believed that he could keep her safe in all of this. That as soon as things changed, she would be much better off. If only he could change her mind on how the world should be. “Shhh,” he cooed, gently pulling her into his arms. One hand urging her to rest her head on his shoulder, the other rubbing circles on her back to soothe her. Evander placed a soft kiss on the top of Isabella’s head. Noting the tension that wrapped around the two of them. There were words that weren’t being said. An elephant in the room that needed to be addressed. But that would have to wait for another time. “Of course,” he assured her, voice soft, soothing, “of course, I will help you. I’ll pull all the strings I can in the Ministry and everywhere else I can to find this friend of yours.”

He pulled away, only enough so he could look her in the eye. Hands on her shoulders as he held her. “I will never let anything happen to you. No matter how the world might fall.” Evander’s heart tugged as he thought about how Tom might request his assistance with other matters. Matters that might hurt Isabella. Betray her trust in ways. “Now, who am I looking for?”

-

  Normally, Isa would have balked at the way Evander drew her into him, insistent that she was fine, and would ask for the hug if she needed it, but this time she went easily, settling right against his shoulder as he directed. Tears glistened on her cheeks as her arms wrapped around his middle. Her frame shook with the effort of keeping sobs at bay. She wasn’t okay, and they both knew it, and bless him, he wasn’t pressing. He wasn’t asking her questions, or making comments that would only serve to anger them both. He was just being her big brother, protective, but tender. She closed her eyes as she took a breath, willing herself to calm. She caught the familiar smell of his clothes, perhaps cologne he’d put on, quieting as he shushed her. She’d said what needed to be said, after all. 

    Relief flooded her as he agreed to help, promising to use his position to her benefit. She knew it could been seen as ethically wrong, but she needed to know Winter was okay, if nothing else. He could be avoiding her, could loathe her, could want nothing to do with her so long as she knew he was alive, and safe, and not stuck somewhere alone, frightened, and in pain. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt. Her breath was shaky as she nodded, voice cracking as she offered a quiet, “thank you,” as her arms tightened a bit more until he drew back, hands on her shoulders. 

     She looked up at him, eyes red, lashes wet, tears still running down her cheeks. She believed him. He would do all that he could to keep her from harm, that was never something she’d doubted from him. She knew that he just wanted to protect her, they simply disagreed from time to time about how that should look. She swallowed thickly, disliking the way he spoke of the world falling. He was worried too, then. She was right to think things were heading into dangerous territory. He was hiding something too, she realized, but she knew it wasn’t fair to ask and now wasn’t the right time. His question was what she needed to focus on. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes falling from his face. Giving him the name was necessary for finding him, but it also meant Evander would have questions and would make assumptions she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to ask and make. She had no choice, though. She needed help finding Winter. She braced herself, before looking back to him again, straightening her posture, lifting her chin. She would not be a coward. 

      “Winter Macnair.” She answered, keeping the waver from her voice. 

Andrew shook his head. “No you’re not fine.” He moved to help her up, watching her face carefully. “I’ve got to start watching where I’m going.” He could do that on the pitch. That was easy. But on the ground, that’s harder. “I’ve always been a right knob when not on a broom.” He felt terrible. He hated hurting people. It’s why he wasn’t a beater. He took the books from her carefully before taking her hand. “Let me take you home. Or at least take you for a drink.” 

Once they were up, he looked her over. There was tea on her dress and he grabbed his wand. “I’ve gotten pretty good at removing blood stains from my clothes. Tea should be easy.” He cast, smiling as the stain left. “See? One spell I’m pretty good at.” 

-

  “I’ll be alright,” Isabella insisted, not wanting Andrew to fret too much. She could heal her palm and her wrist without much issue, even if it was sometimes awkward to perform the spell on herself. It was a benefit to her training and education, and she was thankful for it even as she wined as he helped her up, the movement jostling and uncomfortable. “You should be careful, but it was an accident, Andrew. I’m not angry.” She promised, noticing that he seemed genuinely bothered by the ordeal. She felt bad. She hadn’t meant to make him upset. She let him take the books, hoping there would be a way to save them from the damage of her tea. The pages would dry no doubt, but would the ink had bled? “That’s very kind of you to offer,” She began, ready to decline, but the idea of having an escort home wasn’t unappealing. She felt jittery and for the first time in awhile, going home seemed to be the best course of action. Normally she liked being out and about, she’d gone stir crazy in her home, but she wanted to be back there now. 

    “You can take me home, thank you.” She agreed at last, smiling as he removed the tea stain from her gown. She glanced down, pleased with the results, even though she still ached, and knew she would feel a bit sore come morning too. “Thank you,” She offered again, laughing a little. “I don’t doubt your uniforms are a sight to behold after a practice or match. Are you ready for the season to be underway?” She asked, though it was early. This time of year was focused more on promotion, training, conditioning, and strategizing. She wasn’t sure if he liked that time or not, though he didn’t seem particularly enthused about the signing, so she had an idea. 

Location: Diagon Alley

Normally, he hated these things. Not that he didn’t like meeting fans. That he loved, actually. But these organized events where he had to sign everything possible for hours. Take pictures with everyone. Turn down women three times his age who said he just needed someone to take care of him. He had thrown a jacket over his jersey, hoping for a moment of peace. He was hoping to get a drink or four. Four sounded better, really. He was walking towards the Leaky when he started to think about the afternoon. It was only after the fact he realized he had bumped into someone. “Merlin’s beard, I’m so sorry.” He gave them the best puppy dog eyes he could. They usually got him out of things. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt are you?” 

-

   Isa tumbled to the cobblestone ground, her bag and tea falling along with her as Andrew bumped into her. He was much larger than she was, but she hadn’t been paying attention herself. She hissed as her hand connected with the stone, the skin tearing as it scraped against the ground, but more she was worried about the tenderness in her wrist. She knew better than to try to catch her fall, but it had been instinctual. Her tea had spilled over her gown, and over the new books she’d picked up not moments before from Whizz Hard’s. She often read books before publication, having met the current owner through Arabella. It was something she enjoyed greatly, and now they were stained and ruined with tea. 

    Her eyes watered but she shook her head immediately. “No no, I’m fine.” She lied, offering a wavering smile as she moved to sit up again. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Fancy meeting you here though, Andrew. I thought you were stuck today, in your signing event?” She wondered, recalling the schedule in the Magpies office. She worked around it more often than not.

location: ministry of magic

It had been a long morning. Filing the paperwork after her cases was always the worst. Normally, she could get Agnes to do it but it was her birthday. The least she could do (other than the extravagant gifts she had been giving her) was do this. After another fight with Charles in records, she was in a sour mood. He didn’t like her. Not at all. And he didn’t keep it secret. She really needed to get in good with one of the secretaries to know when he was manning the desk to avoid him. The file of papers that (now) needed editing were tucked into her briefcase as she made her way to the tea cart. The line wasn’t long but she could see there was only one chocolate croissant left. With the morning she had, she needed it. The line moved until there was only three people in front, the paistry still there. The older wizard ordered an earl grey, not the crossiant. Not wanting to take any chances, Georgie tapped the person in front on the shoulder. “I will pay for your drink and give you ten galleons if you don’t order that chocolate croissant.” 

-

  Isabella turned, flinching slightly at Georgie’s tap to her shoulder. She exhaled, relieved to find it was only the younger witch. “Hm?” She asked, brows furrowing as she tried to recall what Georgie had asked, or rather offered. She turned back to the display case, noting the chocolate croissant Georgie so evidently desired. “Oh, I wasn’t going to order that, you don’t need to worry.” She offered in return. Even if she had intended to, she would have let Georgie have it. She knew she didn’t have to, she had just as much right to it as anyone else, but she wasn’t in the mood to sour anyone’s day and it was only a croissant. 

    She turned back to the counter, ordering a small tea, and a warm oatmeal biscuit to go along with it, before she offered up her money and took the order, stepping aside so Georgie could order hers. “Are you alright, Ms. Parkinson?” She asked, after she had. 

location: the hopping pot (carkitt market) status: open (to any and all)

For being one in a career centred around selling a lie, Dahlia was finding it extremely difficult not to show her true feelings since the death of the Minister. The attacks and resulting deaths in the Daily Prophet headquarters and now the callous ending for the Minister was affecting her more than it should’ve. The world was indeed changing, there was only so much pretending people could do and the past few days she had been more reserved. 

Her and Reuben had even halted their wedding plans, not that Dahlia was completely upset about it- just because it wasn’t the right time and in light of it all, it felt rude to grace the wizarding world with their nuptials when everything was so tumultuous. But. the show did have to continue and they’d done their part, Reuben was flitting between the muggle and wizarding world- his duty now heightened as action plans were made. The muggle prime minister would need to know the successor soon, and Dahlia had stood by his side like the dutiful wife to be through the press conferences

He’d even dropped her off at The Hopping Pot, a gentle kiss pressed against her lips and a promise to be back after another meeting. Which now left Dahlia to read through the latest edition of the Daily Prophet as she gently sipped on tea. The grisly image of the dark mark looked up at her from the paper and she gently rubbed her arm, memories of years ago at school, the symbol Tom had once shown her- and then her own attack, no one knew about. He could’ve done this himself without preamble, so to take a life by suspected laced fudge? It was too calculating…..

“Why did you do it….?” she murmured, wondering what his plan was, or what he wanted to happen. 

- 

   Isa had no intention of dropping by the Hopping Pot, but it certainly had it’s allure and she needed to be out of her home and out of her head, if only for a little while. She made her way over to order a drink –– her favorite, Peachtree Fizzy Tea, though it wasn’t at all the season for it, and the cold summery treat was best enjoyed on hot days. She took her tea, heading to find a table so she could relax into the hum of the establishment. Whenever she found herself in her own head, she found it best to get out, to surround herself with others. She’d always enjoyed people watching, even if the gossip that flooded the Hopping Pot today surrounded the Minister, and was loud enough to set her teeth on edge. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t anyones fault. People were naturally curious, and rightfully concerned. They had questions, just as she did, and so far very little answers had been found. 

    She’d settled into her seat when she noticed Dahlia. Her lips turned downward, noting that she looked distressed and exhausted. She couldn’t help but to feel sorry for her. After all, Dahlia was supposed to be excited right now, celebrating her betrothal, but how could anyone be excited in a time like this? She sipped her tea before deciding to seize on the opportunity. She wanted out of her own head, what better way than to focus on someone else? To push her worries and needs aside in favor of helping another? She wanted to help Dahlia, even if they weren’t what anyone would call close. She came over, catching the tail end of her murmured words.

     “It’s horrifying, isnt it?” She asked softly, “I don’t know why anyone would attack the Minister. I thought she was a fair woman, with good sense about her, but people often guard their motivations, don’t they?” She wondered aloud. “Put it away Dahlia, there’s no sense upsetting yourself right now. Take a break.” She encouraged, moving to sit uninvited. Her hand gently moved to close the paper. “Have you had anything to eat? I thought about ordering something, we could share?” She added, gently. 

Evander had lost count of the days since he had seen, let alone spoken to, to his family. He had written it off with his parents as work simply catching up with him. And in a sense, it was, in fact his work. Just not the kind of work that they knew of. No one knew of the work he was doing with Tom. Least of all, his sister. Merlin only knew what hell would break loose if she found out that he was giving his old friend some intel.  Evander kept that part of his life locked up tight. He had written countless letters to Isabella. Each and every one recounting how he wished she would just push their cousins out and move in with him. How she should let him take care of her. Each and every one of them were now sitting in his wastebin. He knew what the response would be if he had sent them. Evander wasn’t looking for a fight.

No sooner had he poured himself a small glass of brandy did his sister’s owl swoop in through his open parlor window. Landing seamlessly on his work desk. He quirked a brow at the letter Callix had dropped. His eyes skimmed the words. Two, three times. It was more of a quick note rather than a letter. All she had done was ask him to come over, but Evander knew his sister. Her handwriting quick and urgent. There was something wrong. Without much of a thought, he grabbed his jacket and left to see her. It never took long for him to reach her. Never finding the need to aparate when he could reach her so quickly. An urgent rap on her door and once it was opened, Evander gave her a pleading look. A look that told Isabella not to lie to him. He would know. He always did.

“What’s the matter?”

  There was no denying that something was wrong. Isa hadn’t intended to deny it this time either. Her lashes were still wet, cheeks flushed from the effort of weeping as she had. Her chest and stomach both hurt, as if she’d tightened the muscles in her chest for too long, and her sniffles were entirely undignified and unladylike as she regarded her older brother for the first time in ages. It wasn’t that she’d been avoiding him, it just was the way of things these days. She reached a hand up to wipe at her tears before she gestured for him to come and settle. “I––” She tried, her voice straining with the effort. She swallowed thickly before trying again. “It’s a long story, Evander. Please give me time.” She insisted, as she moved to sit on the sofa in her formal room. She tucked her knees under her, drawing a thick quilt over her as she watched him. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with a newer friend, and we’ve gotten quite close. It feels good, after Arabella.” She confessed, heart hammering in her chest. 

    Her tongue felt too big for her mouth, but she knew if she stopped explaining now he’d never get it out of her. He couldn’t know everything, of course, but he could know half truths. “We made plans, to meet at the Shafiq New Year’s party. I know what you’re going to say,” She held her hand up to stop him. “Why did I go alone? Why didn’t I tell you I’d be attending?” She mimicked, before shaking her head. “That’s not the point.” She sighed, “The point is we were meant to meet there, and it felt very important, but my friend never arrived.” Her lip wobbled as she bit down on it to still it, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. 

     “I’ve written letters, I’ve stopped and talked to all their friends, coworkers, but nobody’s seen them, Evander.” She admitted, voice cracking as a sob wracked through her. “And now this business with the Minister, and the awful mark in the sky? It feels like the Prophet attack all over again and I can’t lose another friend, Ev. I know what you think about Bella, but I can’t bear it. I’ve been trying to, but I’m scared, and it feels too much like something Bella warned me about, when we were researching her article. She told me to watch for signs of change, for people suddenly quiet or gone altogether, for career changes, for changes in authority. Are we heading toward another time like before?” She’d been too young to really know what it was like, but there were tiny memories, glimpses here and there.  

     She took a deep breath, another sob breaking through despite her best effort. “I don’t want to be scared all the time, and I don’t want to lose anyone else. So I need you to ask no questions, and just help me find them. Please.” She begged.