#snappedwands

the sun had risen, the moon had set, and artemis fawley was still breathing. she was beaten and bruised, cut and scarred, but alive. that was all she could thank the moon for at the end of the night, that she could see another day. thaxter had found her in the early morning, had dried her tears and bandaged her wounds. he had been her shoulder to lean on, the one that she was more grateful for than she knew what to do with. he had cracked jokes, the pair of them smiling as they went. somewhere along the way, he had begun to bandage the emotional wounds she had suffered too, allowing his companionship to be a blanket for her. she’d told him, at the very least, where she needed to go. that, at least for the time being, the verdant reliquary would be her safehaven. 

thaxter had disappeared to go, presumably, get his broom and she wasn’t sure when he would be back. she approaches and is stopped by the pressure of the ward in front of her, she knows what will happen if she steps any further. and so, with no wand to cast and very little of a voice left to shout, she finds herself sitting on the pavement outside of the establishment, knees tucked up and arms folded beneath as she waits. she’s not sure how long it is before she spots movement from within and sees the door beginning to crack open,     “ lazarus? ”     artemis voices quietly as a familiar figure steps into the threshold. it’s the first time in the entirety of whatever odd relationship they had that his first name passes her lips. she can’t find it inside herself to put up the typically chipper version of herself that mister avery sees. she is simply artemis in this moment.  she pushes herself to her feet, attempting to dust off her already torn and dirtied jeans.     “ may i come in? ”

the chaos after the gathering, the interviews, and the full moon had all come and gone, yet artemis fawley could not shake the sense of dread that resided in the bottom of her stomach. that interview had shaken her and now she felt as though she walked on glass everywhere she went — the aurors were always watching. the aurors had asked her to give up her memories. the question still haunts her, but she was in no position to give them ownership of those as well. they had already tried to take so much, what else could they want from her? these are the thoughts that encompass her mind as she steps into the verdant reliquary, drawing in a long breath of familiarity. she had spent many hours in this shop. and as she meanders around the herbs and potion bottles, she comes to the plants. there’s a quiet scoff as she says into the nether, knowing lazarus was lurking around some odd corner or another,   “ if y’intend t’keep these plants alive, mister avery, y’really should water ‘em sometimes. ”

carlotta hadn’t been to the ministry since she was being taken away in magicuffs. she’s not really sure what brings her here today. since she’d come back to london, there was this ever present hollow feeling in her chest. the young witch hadn’t much time to mourn her cousin before she was whisked off to her punishment. as though losing a family member wasn’t punishment enough. she stands in front of the building, burning bright even if her disposition doesn’t show it. the movement of a figure climbing the stairs to the building catches her eye, the shade of hair the woman has. carlotta knows her or, at the very least, recognizes her.    “   ms. hyslop.   ”   the name leaving her mouth is neither excited nor displeased, rather neutral actually. helena had undone the chaos that she and bindy had created, but the obliviator had also taken away the memories of those without magic who had shone no fear in the face of something different.