scorched .

WHAT I OWE:

CURRENT:

☄  victoria → alastor .

OLDER:

Her words made him pause. Her mess? What? What could she possibly mean by that? But before he could so much as ask her, she quickly mentioned leaving and it made a sharp, desperate shot of urgency let loose like a tornado in his chest. No. Please. The mere idea of her leaving now ––– now that she was here and he could see her ––– was enough to nearly send him into an all-out panic. Just a little more time. Just a little more, that was all he asked. That was all he needed. 

… But was that fair? To force something out of his own bids of pure selfishness? Especially it could cause Tori harm? After everything he’d already put her through? Put their family through? Fuck, he was a right, disgusting git, and he knew it. He needed to go. It was the right thing to do. It was for the best. He never should have come in the first place. He said he wouldn’t ruin her or her life ever again after that night and he meant it. Now more than ever before. His feelings didn’t matter. Not anymore. 

Edgar made the move to rise from his seat then ––– mind firmly made up ––– but froze at the two, barely there whispered words his wife suddenly uttered between them. 

Don’t go. 

It was astounding almost, how just that simple phrase affected him so thoroughly; made him feel as though his body was floating. He didn’t know which was up or down in that moment, but he didn’t care. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him there. She wanted him. If only what she continued with ( a strange, fragmented explanation that only made his muddled brain fog over all the more ) wasn’t so unbelievably confusing. 

“Tori, what–––?” Apology? What did she need to apologize for? He was the one that needed to apologize! Not her! Merlin, what in the bloody hell was she saying? “What you did? I don’t ––– I don’t understand?” Quick as a shot, his hand reached out to settle over both of her intertwined ones. He didn’t so much as think about it. It was natural, even after all this time. He wanted to comfort her in some way ––– let her know he was there. It also helped ground himself as he tried and get a handle on what he’d just heard. “Of course I don’t want you to go. I never–––.” His voice broke. “I just … I don’t get what you mean. What are you talking about? Fix what?” 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

He was asking questions, but all she could feel was his hand on hers; warm and vibrant and alive again. Godric, she shouldn’t be here. She should’ve stayed away; should’ve kept him safe. Was this selfishness? To need someone so badly? They’d been magnets, the two of them, from the moment they’d met, and maybe it was only putting off the inevitable to stay away as long as she did. But, still, she could hear him screaming, even now, even sitting here and hearing him talk; perfectly safe and back by her side.

But for how long?

Vic searched his eyes, unsure of how to even start. With Amelia, it was a story. An apology, sure, but the story was enough. For Eddie? Godric, she didn’t even know if it was enough to tell him the story. Enough to apologize. She’d put them all in harms way, and didn’t even get a chance to save them. To try. 

“It wasn’t just you, helping the Order,” the words came out in a whisper, and she looked up at him, saw his eyes, and had to look away again to blink away the tears. “I thought -- Well, I thought Dumbledore would... -- Fuck.” Telling him was harder than Amelia. The thought that she’d put him, and their children, in that much danger felt like a knife to the chest. “Please don’t hate me.” She shuddered out the words, tears still streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him. “I know, I know I shouldn’t have. I thought, fuck, I thought the world of myself. Suppose sometimes I still do.” Vic wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Invincible despite it all.” 

Another breath steadied her enough to meet his eyes and at least finish a full sentence. Something that might make sense. “I was trying to be a spy, for Dumbledore,” she said, quietly. “A week before everything happened, I’d gone to the Avery manor. I think it was my brother, who sent them. And I don’t know if they remember now, or if you’re in danger now that I’m here, or if I’m fucking it all up again just by seeing you but I couldn’t--” Vic shook her head, looking down at her hands. “I just missed you so bloody much.”

And she did. She missed him more than she’d missed anyone else in her life. He was the first person who’d been there for her through it all; the first person who’d seen her at her highest point and her highest low. She’d betrayed him, and still he was here. Oblivious, of course, until this moment in time. His wife had been their downfall.

“And I knew you would blame yourself,” Vic laughed, trying to wipe at her eyes again but the tears were still coming. “I knew you would. And you probably still do, don’t you?” She looked at him, meeting his eyes, seeing the pain there, the way that he was trying to make sense of all this. Truthfully, it could’ve been something he’d done, but she’d never blame him for it. Not once. Even if it hadn’t been her; even if it hadn’t been that trip to her family home. She would never, not once, put that blame on his shoulders. Carefully, she lifted their hands and kissed his, resting her forehead on them. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Eddie.”

Amelia truly didn’t want to act like this towards Vic. She wanted nothing more than to hug her again and to tell her how much she’d missed her, how much she’d grieved her. But the other remembered, and hadn’t come to see them in three months. That stung, and it made Amelia angry, and confused as to why. Even seeing Vic put her hands up like that made her feel rather angry, and she bit the inside of her lip sharply to keep from snapping at her.

“It is only bloody fair you pay, yes,” She said, trying to put a lighter tone in her voice, but feeling like she’d failed. She looked at the outstretched hand, then at Victoria, frozen for a brief moment as she considered. She knew that Vic couldn’t be trying to swindle her, and she prayed that it wasn’t Vic suddenly turning on them somehow. There had to be a reason, and she needed to hear it, and understand it, before she let her anger get out of control. Most of all, she had to protect her brother.

“… Okay,” She managed out after a moment, taking a deep breath and reaching out to take Vic’s hand, “I will trust you this one time, and then you will tell me absolutely everything about why it’s taken you so long to find us, since you remember too. And then…” Then she’d decide.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A deep breath followed Amelia’s switch in tone, and as soon as Amelia took her hand, she nodded and apparated them off. It was a small Muggle shop, one that she’d spent quite a few lunches in over the past few months. The wizarding world felt dangerous, what with the Bones on every corner, and her family likely watching her every move. If they knew. Vic couldn’t be too careful, not this time around.

Once they were sat down, Vic took a deep breath and waved a hand around her. “They’ve got the best bloody fish and chips this close to the water,” she said, a small smile, humorless gracing her lips before disappearing again. “But, unfortunately, that’s not why I brought you here. Wish I’d found this place due to better circumstances but... Blimey, I don’t even know if this is where I should start.” Vic shook her head and then looked at her sister-in-law. “When I woke up, the last thing I remembered was seeing-- They had the boys, Lia. Our babies. And it was all my fault.” Vic closed her eyes and then opened them again. 

“He needed a spy. Dumbledore. I volunteered, but he didn’t like my odds, and you know me. I said screw em. So I tried to go home; we were still on speaking terms then, although they hadn’t spoken to me in a long time. But I pretended I wanted out. Pretended I was ready to come home and be a Death Eater.” A laugh shook her then, and she wiped at a tear that was flooding down her cheek. “I don’t know if he still remembers. My brother. But I couldn’t be... I can’t be sure. Moody’s been helping me, trying to see if any of the Death Eaters remember anything. But I didn’t--I couldn’t put Edgar back in that position. If I went back to him too early, to you, he might...” Vic looked down at her hands. “I don’t know if it was him for sure. But he always fucking hated me. Even when we were kids. Hated me, for what always felt like no reason. And I just can’t help but think it was him, or someone he told, that night. We never saw their faces.” 

Vic knew she should’ve sent an owl first. Or, at the very least, told him she wasn’t staying at Edgar’s tonight. It was almost like living with a parent again, or what Vic had imagined living with a parent would be like. One that cared, and would wonder what happened to you if you were out far too late. These days, she’d been more worried about him, of course. After he returned from Mungo’s, Vic had barely left his side. You helped me, I help you. That’s what she’d told him it was. Instead, it was the fact that he was there for her when no one else was. Whether or not he’d meant to, she’d grown to care about him like he was her old man. And he was better than her old man, anyways. 

“Sorry, sorry I know I’m bloody late,” she said, as the door closed behind her and she resealed the charms that he’d made her put on it. “But, in my defense, the line at the shoppe was long and then they were out of your favorite, so I had to improvise.” Plopping the bag full of food down in front of him, Vic began to sort. “I also... I know you’re. going to try to force me under, but don’t you even bloody dare. I’m helping first, and then we can figure out a hiding spot for Eddie and me, yea?” Pasta in bowls, she took a bite of her food and then looked at him. “You look like shit.” A grin. “How’re you feeling?”

If you’d asked Vic that morning if she was going to go into work, the answer would’ve been a hard no. She knew how this election would go, and didn’t care to see it play out again. Amelia’s hat thrown in the ring was a diversion, sure, and if anyone had her vote it was her sister-in-law. But the larger Wizarding world? The people who could barely talk of the war without growing red in the face? They were ignoring the problem, and it made her sick to her stomach. Amelia did nothing but point at problems and fix them. It was admirable, but naive to think she would win.

Still, she was called in, for nothing more than to be an extra set of hands when the crowd became unruly at the announcement of Minister. Whoever it was, Vic knew, it would spawn a response. Depending on who, it could spawn chaos.

Standing in the atrium was enough to make her heart feel like it might fling from her chest. A man stood near her, a man she vaguely recognized from Hogwarts and other Order meetings. Her eyes flickered to him, and then back to the crowd ahead, before she asked, “Who’s your money on?” A small shake of her head followed. “I’d say Bagnold, but I’ve got not way of really knowing this time round.”

Amelia truly was a storm of emotions at the moment, and she couldn’t help but clench her fist, and her jaw, at Victoria’s words, ‘there’s the Amelia I know and love’. Part of her wanted to snap at her, tell her that she wasn’t allowed to say that anymore. Part of her wanted to laugh and be relieved that Vic remembered and say she missed her. The biggest part of her though, was throwing up a wall, and taking a step back, arms crossed over her chest as she watched the other woman, listening to her words.

“… I have time to take lunch, yes,” She finally spoke after a pause, voice a little more even, a little more stern, as she tried to keep that wall up at the moment, to protect herself, to protect Edgar. She needed to vet Vic before she said anything, before she told her anything, or before she went to Edgar about it. A small snort was the only reply to those words. How was staying away going to keep Edgar safe? How was breaking his heart going to help?

Amelia couldn’t help but bristle though, at the thought of them going to her flat. Until she knew the story, until she knew why it had taken over three months for Vic to show up, she didn’t feel like she could truly trust her. “We can go to a muggle bar,” She spoke then, evenly, “I don’t want you at my flat at the moment. And until you tell me why the hell you’ve stayed away, and what you’re talking about, I’m not telling you anything about my brother.” She wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction of knowing, until there was an explanation.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Perhaps Vic deserved the way Amelia was acting; perhaps she deserved the tight lips and the crossed arms. Still, it hurt, knowing that she’d put up a wall between them. The Bones were the most accepting of people, but if you crossed them, you’d better watch their back. Vic had never expected to be on that list, but here she was, facing Amelia’s wrath, and while she had her her own anger, Amelia’s felt worse somehow.

She held up her hands in surrender, palms out, hoping that Amelia would realize that she wasn’t here to make matters worse. It was hard to know that she’d fucked up, and that Amelia wasn’t giving her any grace. Not that she should, not really, but that usual fire still roiled in her stomach. “A muggle bar it is,” she said, with a small shrug. “And I suppose you’re going to make me pay, which is only bloody fair.” Vic rubbed at her eyes, holding out her hand. “Would you like to apparate us too or will you at least trust I can get us to a bar?”

It was too normal, her statement, her teasing. Vic knew and yet she couldn’t stop. Her nerves had gotten the better of her, as usual, and she couldn’t shut her bloody mouth. Still, it was better than not saying anything at all; than letting her fear get to her. She was here, wasn’t she? That had to count for fuckin’ something. “I’m not trying to swindle you, Lia. And my pride, as you know, is much too fragile to show up unless I absolutely had to. I’d like to think you know me well enough that I wouldn’t leave any of you without a reason. Especially not Eddie.” Her voice cracked again at the familiar nickname, and her eyes flickered down. “So, trust me, one last time. And then if you want to tell me to fuck off you can.”

It was a mistake. Merlin’s beard, was it ever a huge fucking mistake to be at the Leaky, especially that night. And yet, there Edgar stood, right in the threshold of the old, bustling bar like the dewy-eyed fool he’d always been. He knew the risks. He knew that there was a very real chance of having some kind of contact with Victoria after everything. But even then, deep down, he knew he had to do it. No matter how much his brain screamed at him to turn back and flee, or how much his stomach threatened to rebel right onto the floor under his leaden feet, Edgar had to see her, even if it was just this once. 

Just one last time. 

He’d avoided even the mere thought of Victoria for far, far too long; practically running like a pathetic dog with its tail between its legs at every brief flash of long, dark hair, or anyone who so much as looked like his wife from a distance. It was beyond cowardly, but that last night of his and his family’s lives was still so fresh ––– and it was his fault. His. He just couldn’t bare to see her. He couldn’t stand to look at the love of his life after what they’d been through; all they’d lost. Victoria deserved better than him. She always had, and he refused to be her ruin. Never again. 

But Rowena fucking above, he’d missed her. It felt as though there was a hole carved in his chest that grew with each passing day and they weren’t together. And even though he had his siblings, it wasn’t the same. The ache he felt practically gnawing at his bones was unlike anything he’d ever known; the visceral pain on a constant loop.

So to suddenly see her, just a few feet away from him, was almost enough to knock him over. She was there; right there and back alive, just as he was. They were both back in the place where it all began and Victoria was looking just as beautiful as she had that first night. Before Edgar realized it, he was moving towards her table as though pulled on strings, tears immediately springing to his eyes as a quick, watery laugh escaped him at her words ( her voice ). He slowly took a seat in the booth across from her in the last ditch effort to prevent himself from pulling her tight into the circle of his arms and just never letting go; take in the comforting scent and warmth of her and breathe for the first time in months.

“You know me, always around to make a fuckin’ mess, I am.” he said at last, his voice a pained croak as he tossed a shakily, crooked smile her way in the last ditch effort to fight back the sob building in his throat. She was real. This was real. “I tried not to come, but I just … I had to, Tori. This night, it was–––” everything. It was everything. He wished with all he had that they could have that night again. He wished. “But I can go … if you want.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

There were tears in her eyes, and almost immediately as she saw them, there were tears in her own. Vic couldn’t help but laugh at his laugh; a small smile landing on her lips at the very sight of him. Godric, why had she ever left? The memories escaped her for a moment, the way all thought left her on this night all those years ago. If it weren’t for the constant fear piling in her stomach, Vic knew that she wouldn’t have a chance. Not against Eddie. It was why she’d never had this moment; why she’d never seen him. She knew she would break apart, and he would pick up her pieces.

He’d always known how to put her back together.

Even now, she felt herself reaching for him, but stopped her hand on the table, unsure of what he would do, or how he would feel. Now he knew. He knew that she had remembered for months and avoided him; knew her well enough to know there must be a reason. Or, at least she hoped he knew that. Vic was a loose cannon; a broken record; a sun spinning out of orbit. But she was never without a point. If anyone knew that, it was Edgar. Still, that didn’t dull any kind of pain that he must be feeling. It didn’t stop the fact that it was April, and she still hadn’t seen him. 

“Well, this time, it seems like it’s my mess doesn’t it?” she took a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand before nodding at his words. “I know. Trust me. I know. I didn’t mean to... Blimey, I shouldn’t be here.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly on those words and she looked at him, a bit of anguish in her eyes. After all, she didn’t want him to go, but really he should go. They couldn’t be seen together. What if her brother remembered? What if he knew and was wanting to finish the job early? Still, he wouldn’t be caught dead in the Leaky. No, he was much too Avery for that. 

Her next two words came out in a whisper, and for a moment, Vic didn’t realize she said them, “Don’t go.” Such a simple sentence, packed with so much meaning. His nickname for her, Tori, ringing over and over in her head. Hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like years, but really was, in theory, only months, felt both like a warm hug and a punch to the gut. “I... You deserve an explanation. And a bloody apology, both for what I did then and what I had to do now. I can’t--I fucked up. And not in my usual... I fucked up a little bit and can fix it way. I don’t know how to fix this one and the only way was staying away. Which, I’m obviously doing a fabulous job of.” She paused, her hands clasped together on the table, knuckles white. Vic wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, but she knew she needed to ask one more question. “Do you want me to go?”

Amelia had thought of her future sister-in-law during the past few months, though she had tried not to. She was torn between wanting to find her and seeing if she remembered, seeing if she missed Edgar, seeing if they would be happy again, and also just going to find her and yelling at her for not coming to Edgar sooner if she did remember. She missed her friend, of course, but more importantly, she wanted her twin to be happy first, which is why she hadn’t gone to actively seek her out.

She wasn’t sure if Vic would come to her if she remembered or not. Was she avoiding them? Was there something else going on? Did she get to be one of the ones who didn’t have to remember everything that had happened? Truthfully though, the thoughts had only popped up here and there; with everything else going on, Amelia was far too occupied and running on too little sleep and too much caffeine to think of anything but what was in front of her.

Trying to clean her office after she’d thrown papers everywhere in her anger was an easier task said than done. The papers had to be reorganized, and Amelia couldn’t sit still long enough to do it. A little chime went off, signaling that someone had approached her door, a charm she’d put up recently to give herself a bit more warning, and she froze. However, when the door didn’t open, Amelia felt even more confused.

Walking over to the door, she opened it and stepped out, wondering if the charm was malfunctioning or if someone was playing a trick on her, when she spotted her; Victoria. The other woman’s face crumpled, and she called her ‘Lia’, a name she’d only call her if…

Amelia didn’t really think, her feet moving her towards the other woman and her arms pulling her into a tight hug. For the briefest moment, all she could think was how much she’d missed her, how much she’d grieved her along with Edgar and the boys, and how much she wanted to tell her that. But that only lasted for a brief moment.

Pulling back, Amelia’s hand clenched into a fist and she socked Victoria hard in the shoulder, eyes narrowing as she pulled back to look at her. “Where the bloody hell have you been?” She snapped at her then, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Amelia’s face was a storm, and Victoria almost wanted to run away before she was drenched in the rain. Still, she wasn’t expecting what happened first. The hug, the way Amelia’s arms wrapped around her and squeezed tight. Vic closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the feeling of comfort. Godric, how long had it been since she’d felt safe? At home? She wasn’t even Eddie, and it was like being surrounded by warm waters. 

The punch came swiftly, breaking Vic from her thoughts, and she couldn’t help but laugh ever so slightly. “There’s the Amelia I know and love,” she said, softly, unable to help herself, unable to avoid the questions her sister-in-law was asking. Vic rubbed her eyes and looked down at her hands, which were now clasped together, knuckles white. Her questions were valid, and Vic knew she deserved them, but it didn’t make them hurt any less.

“Do you have time to grab a bite?” she asked, quietly. “There’s... It’s a story. And I know now, I should’ve come back sooner. I just thought... I thought I could keep him safe by staying away.” Vic searched Amelia’s eyes, hoping that the other woman would understand. But, knowing Lia, she knew that it would take more convincing; that she wasn’t going to get off so easily. If she were in her sister-in-law’s shoes, she wouldn’t let herself get off easy either. It made her, for a moment, think of Moody, and how often he’d told her to go home, but how often she couldn’t.

Did that make her a terrible person? Did it make her awful that she truly was just excruciatingly terrified that she might send pain Edgar’s way again? Godric, and what if her brother was around, still, waiting for them to return? 

No, she had to keep playing a game. At least a little while longer. At least enough that her brother wouldn’t suspect that she knew. “If we can... If we can go to your flat, or a muggle bar, I’ll explain everything. I just... I had to see you and know how you all were doing.” Vic paused and closed her eyes briefly, before saying quietly, “I had to know how he was doing.”

The Leaky’s warmth seeped into her bones as soon as she pushed past its door. Just like the previous 1979, winter hadn’t given up its icy grasp on April. Vic was a fan of Summer, herself, but luckily for her the Leaky always felt warmer, especially after this day. Godric, she knew she shouldn’t be here; knew she shouldn’t be toeing the line. But, she had to come, didn’t she? A part of her didn’t think he would come, but she knew that was just wishful thinking.

Sentimentality would be the death of them. 

There was no way Vic would be able to pretend if she saw him. Even thinking of it now, of the way he looked at her the first time, under the dim lights of this very room, on this very day, she knew it would kill her. They’d always said if they were able to relive the moment, it would be nothing but happiness. Joy and light and laughter. And the moment had been that. But they were no longer those people, were they? Vic had seen to that. 

As the minutes ticked by, her butterbeer growing colder, Vic wondered if he wouldn’t show. Maybe they’d both be spared from a reunion that wouldn’t be nearly as bright as their meeting. And then, the door opened. It was almost like seeing him again for the first time; her stomach fully fell from her chest, and it took everything in her not to run to him then and there, knock him to the ground like he’d done to her what felt like a lifetime ago.

But, she didn’t.

Her feet remained firmly planted in her seat as she waited. It wasn’t until their eyes met that she knew he would know, and Vic had to turn away to keep him from seeing the tears springing. Arms wrapped around herself, like a protective shield, and she waited for him to come slide into the booth, breathed in one final gulp of air before she said, “I was wondering if you would even show. I don’t know if I would, if I were in your shoes. If I’d...” Vic closed her eyes before saying, quietly, “You’re even wearing the same jacket. From that night-- this night.”

She’d been so bloody careful.

Only sparing glances at them when she knew they wouldn’t see her; only taking her eyes from her work when she knew Amelia was too focused on a task at hand, or Felix walking down the hall with one of his clients. Luckily for her, Edgar didn’t come around these parts often, only to see his siblings. She thought, maybe, she’d seen him once, but had instantly run the other direction as if she’d seen a ghost.

Maybe, that was all it was, in the end.

Still, Vic was not scared of anything, and here she was, terrified of talking to any of the people that she would call family first. Alastor, bless him, had taken her in after she’d explained everything, but it wasn’t the same in the end. The Bones had become her family, Amelia one of her closest friends. The Valentine’s ball had been hard enough on her, but with Michum’s death she knew, especially from Moody’s sulking, that things were not looking fucking up. 

Pretending not to know about the past, not to remember, was the hardest part of her day, but letting that guard slip? It was almost harder. Still, Vic’s feet had led her here, to Amelia’s door, and for the first time in her life, she found herself failing in bravery. “Nope, fuck this,” she whispered, turning on her heel and walking away, only to hear the door open. No, no, no, no... She didn’t have to turn around, but her feet betrayed her, and when she saw Amelia’s face, her own crumpled ever so slightly. “Y’got room for a giant arsehole in your office, Lia?” The words felt strange falling from her lips, admitting that she’d been wrong, that she couldn’t keep hiding all at once. Still, she wasn’t sure what Lia would do in this situation and that made her stomach roil.  

a self para for @mementomori-rp.