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Daughters of Avalon

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The rain was lashing against the ground, freezing the group of Aurors to the bone as they stood, huddled, behind a wall in the middle of rural England. For the last twenty minutes, they had been running diagnostic spells and checking the vulnerability of their location, and thoroughly getting soaked.

Quinn was not amused, and the longer she stood there, the colder she became and the more water leaked into her Ministry issue Auror boots. They were standard issue after the last war, in an attempt to kit out the recruits properly, projecting an image of stability, but all it did was piss the Aurors off and incite office tension when they had to be written up for not following the dress code.

Oh how the mighty profession had fallen.

Blowing warm air on her hands, as they were not allowed to use magic in case it set off alarms for the nearby house, Quinn tried to stop her teeth chattering and attempted to tune in to what the other Aurors were saying. It only took her a few seconds before she just had to cut in.

"Do we know if they're still in there?" she asked, looking between her colleagues. Quinn wasn't the senior ranking Auror on site, but she did have the most experience with this particular group of witches.

"The report said-" Auror Hudson began, pulling out said report from his robes. Quinn rolled her eyes at his foolishness to believe a six-month-old report and the testimony of a snitch.

"Do we know for sure they're still in there?" she asked again, her anger stirring warmth in her body. "You may be willing to go in wands blasting, but I don't want to lose my life in friendly fire because the place is actually empty." Hudson puffed his chest and got ready to argue back at the dig on his personal record, but the senior Auror had heard enough.

"Fabray, we only have the report. We don't know anything." He tried to be diplomatic, but it was useless.

"At least you got the latter part correct," she grumbled, gripping her wand tighter and eying the property behind the wall.

It was an unsuspecting house in a derelict neighbourhood of what used to be a magical town. Rumours had been circulating lately that this was a safe house, or many even the headquarters, for an up and coming group of dark witches.

They called themselves the Daughters of Avalon, a homage to the sorceress Morgan le Fey, or Morgana as she was more famously known as. The Ministry was still unsure of their intent, but they suspected foul play, an uprising of some kind. They wanted to shut it down, interrogate the members, and have them disbanded. They were taking no chances this time around.

Quinn had only been drafted in on this assignment because of her history with the group, and yet, despite knowing more about them than anyone else there, she was sitting on the side-lines, orders in hand, and expected to do as she was told. It felt wrong.

The whole set up felt like a trap, but her four measly years of experience in the Auror Department wasn't enough weight for her to say as much. Especially not when she was talking with a veteran of twenty years, her commanding officer, Nelson Colbert. He was running this show, and it was his word she would follow, even if she didn't think he was right.

How he hadn't picked up on the strange set of circumstances they were in, however, was beyond her.

For starters, there was only one entrance into the property, and diagnostic spells had revealed that apparition was impossible. While the premises were warded rather heavily, that wasn't all that surprising when looking round the neighbourhood. Break ins and arson attacks were frequent here, especially given how it was only a few miles from the previous Ministry's Rehabilitation Camps.

Don't even get Quinn started on that mess. She'd done two rotations there before being selected for the Auror Department, and she did not want to think about what she'd encountered at a time like this. It would only fog her mind.

Hearing Colbert give the signal, she steadied her heartbeat and walked briskly across the street, following the three Aurors in front of her. They were going to break entry via the door, and the six of them would have to raid the property and round up any one inside.

It felt like a suicide mission. The door could be a trap, designed to hurt or maim, the wards could eject them from the grounds, and who knows what could be waiting for them inside. They didn't have enough information, they didn't have enough time to plan, and they didn't have enough bodies to protect themselves if this was their headquarters.

Quinn could only ask Merlin that she made it out of this alive and unscratched.

The door was blasted to smithereens by an overzealous recruit, with Hudson cheering him on, and then they were inside. Three of them ran towards the back of the house, screaming out their intent and their titles, and then it was Quinn's turn to enter. She took the stairs to her right, her feet thumping up each step, and muttering a protection shield spell under her tongue.

If she was caught off guard, at least it would be enough to rebound most spells.

Turning on the landing, and hearing a scuffle taking place downstairs, she realised she was alone. That was not standard protocol, and when she got back downstairs she was going to kick their asses for breaking that rule, but right now, she had four doors in front of her, all closed, and no clue what was in each one.

Her heart was thumping as she stepped into the hallway, keeping close to the wall and trying to keep the noise down. They may have found some occupants downstairs, but that didn't mean they were the only ones in the house.

As if to prove Quinn right, the door at the end of the hall opened.

Quinn froze, all her training, all of her education going out the window, upon seeing the figure at the end of the hallway. Familiar black, soulless eyes scorched her gaze and she took a hasty breath, coming back to her senses and firing the first spell that came to mind. It rebounded and spliced the wall to her right, bits crumbling to her feet.

A deep chuckling followed, and as Quinn looked up to see if they were still there, she caught the tail end of an animal disappearing behind the door, closing her out. Animagus. Of course. They always did suspect. She must have perfected it.

Advancing quickly, trying the handle and failing, Quinn threw her body into the door until the latch broke. She entered in a hurry, and then realised her mistake. That tail, those eyes, the rumours. She could have gotten herself killed for her foolhardiness.

Thankfully, the room the was empty. No one in sight, not even an animal. This, of course, begged the question; how the hell did she escape?

"Fabray?!" Colbert called, no doubt having heard her crashing about upstairs and worrying.

"In here!" she replied, clenching her teeth as she spun around, taking in the empty room.

It was exactly that, completely empty. Nothing, not even a fireplace. How? How had she done that? Running a quick diagnostic spell to check the wards for apparition, they came back saying apparition was still disabled. So if she hadn't apparated, how? Portkey, maybe?

But why did she open the door if she had an escape? Why did she show herself? They never would have known she was here. They never would have suspected. Why did she open that damn door?

Colbert joined Quinn a few seconds later, looking a little out of breath, and scanning her for any signs of injury. She brushed off his concerned look, and looked out the window into the street. Nothing. No water round the edges of the window frame. No signs of it being opened in years.

It had to be a portkey.

"You okay?" Colbert asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she ground out, frustrated that she had let her escape, and letting his hand fall away from her.

"We caught a few downstairs, no one on the Ministry's radar. Did you…?" Colbert let the sentence hang, and Quinn knew he was inquiring as to why she'd blown a hole in the hall.

"Santana Lopez was here. I don't know how she got out, portkey maybe? She's an animagus, as well. I don't know what animal. Maybe a feline or a dog. I don't…I didn't see." She wished she had seen, because that would give them a bigger lead. They could at least put out reports for people to keep an eye out. Now they had nothing.

Santana hadn't been seen in four years, she only was found when she wanted to be. So why did she open the door and show herself? What was that about?

"Did she hurt you?" Colbert asked, still looking concerned for her. It was unnecessary.

"No. Not this time." Striding past him, Quinn headed down the stairs and back into the street, desperate for some fresh air. She could still smell the woman, intoxicating her senses and dragging her back down memory lane, and right now all Quinn wanted was the rain to wash those memories away.

*0*0*

Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 1

I was assigned to the Ministry's Rehabilitation Camps (Camp 3) today. Technically, it's my first day on the job as they transferred me over immediately. My family's impeccable reputation and my Hogwarts record speak for themselves, apparently, and they just had to have me. It's all very exciting.

Or, it was, until I got here.

These camps…I know after the war the ministry wanted to ensure another war would never take place but…they're not what I thought they were going to be like. The posters, the information, and the books all speak of them being about education classes and helping families with dark pasts onto the path of the light.

It doesn't look like that at all, though. I could be wrong. I probably am. It's only my first day, so I don't know anything. I'm probably confused.

I really hope that I'm just confused.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 9

I wanted to give myself a proper amount of time to adjust before logging my thoughts, to correct the mistakes I had made in my last entry, but it seemed no mistakes were made. This place is a prison. It's a well-established prison.

I'm a prison guard. I know my title says as much, but we were told we would be guarding the families in here from those on the outside, from the passionate and vengeful witches and wizards who hadn't forgiven the occupants. That's just not true at all.

To make matters worse, I'm being asked to attend a 'meeting' next week. They want to talk to this one occupant, inmate, about their family, who they have been unable to trace. The Ministry's Hit-Wizards will be there, from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which implies the family are criminals.

I honestly wasn't expecting this when I accepted this job, and I wish I had turned them down.

It all feels wrong.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray- Day 14

Today, I sat in on a meeting between Hit-Wizards and an occupant. It started as a simple conversation, but with the occupant's answers resulting in nothing new, things changed. I had to step in between a team of Hit-Wizards before they harmed the occupant.

When I reported the incident to my commanding officer, he told me in no uncertain terms that in those situations I should step out of the room and leave them to it.

It made me feel sick.

They have another meeting next week, and I'm to attend it again. I have to decide whether I step in between them, preventing the occupant from getting hurt, or I step out and let them have her. How do I even begin to justify leaving them with her?

I can't.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 19

I received my first disciplinary action, today, but it was completely worth it.

The Hit-Wizards came back, and the occupant had nothing new for them. This time, they asked me to step out, and when I refused, they tried to force me. Well, I didn't receive all Outstanding in my N.E.W.T.s for nothing.

After that, they took their leave, and that's when I suspect they reported me. Not that it matters. I did the right thing. I know I did.

Once they'd gone, it was just the occupant and I, and she thought it was hilarious, and proceeded to tell me so. Santana, her name is Santana Lopez. I have access to her files, but I've not read them. I don't want to know why she's there. It's bad enough I know her name.

Whatever information she's withholding, I hope she tells them soon, because I don't think I'll be allowed in on her meetings again, and I'd rather not see her get hurt.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 46

Santana was brought into the infirmary today. Extensive bruising across her neck and face. She laughed the entire time, spewing out the odd Spanish word here and there, and even had the gall to flirt with the healer.

I still don't know what they want with her, what she knows or why she's there, but seeing her face beaten like that was a shock to the system. The rehabilitation camps are to help people, not hurt them. We're not Azkaban. These people aren't locked up.

The magical tag around her wrist says otherwise, and the muggle style cuffs they attached to her also implied otherwise.

When did all this begin? When did we start locking people up unannounced? Wasn't this what everyone fought so hard to avoid?

I don't understand it, but I suspect I never will.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 134

I must confess, my entries have been non-existent because I've feared this might have been found. It wasn't, and now it can't be, thanks to a little trick someone taught me.

I've been spending time with Santana Lopez, or Occupant 72836 as she's known in her file. I finally read it. I was expecting to read of heinous crimes and a long list of bad deeds, but it turned up nothing. Her only crime is being the niece of a mentally ill wizard who went on a killing spree when accidentally released from St. Mungo's.

She's done nothing.

I don't know what it is about her, but I've been spending my nights in her cell, talking to her, getting to know her. She's nothing like what I imagined her to be. And yes, I've broken so many protocols, but I don't care. I like her, I trust her, and I want to help her in any way I can.

She's an innocent here, and every night as I lock her in her cell I can't help but think I'm the monster the wizarding world fought to protect itself from. When will this all end?

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 201

Santana and I have begun to make plans. It was a joke, something we would do when we got out, but it has now become a definite. We were talking about food, because what she gets to eat is not food, and she recalled a pub that served the best ale and the most mouth-watering apple pie.

It's located just over the border in Wales, and she wants me to go there and experience how amazing it is, myself. The pub is called Isle of Apples, and on the outside it looks like an abandoned alehouse, but she insists it's more than that.

She wants me to go, and then we'll both return when we're out of here.

I have the day off in three days, and while this feels like a trap, I can't think that she would do that to me. We've become friends, of some sort, and she wouldn't…I don't think she would hurt me. So I'm going to go and I'm going to enjoy this apple pie, and I'm going to tell her about it.

She's the only salvation I have found without these camp walls, and I can't wait until we're both on the outside.

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Guard's Log – Junior Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 205

I went to the Isle of Apples pub, and the menu didn't contain apple pie. However, my request sparked some interest with the owner, and she asked me to follow her. It was all very strange.

Santana had me initiated into the Daughters of Avalon, a group of healers, saviours, witches and powerful sorceresses who protect and look after those in need. There are nine of us in total, and Santana's the only one who has been caught.

She moved three families with questionable backgrounds, including her parents, out of the country, and in return was dragged out of her home to the rehabilitation camp. I saw their set up, the Daughters of Avalon have saved hundreds, impeded many illegal arrests and protected those in need. They're not dark, not in the least, and I feel proud to be welcomed into their fold.

It shows trust, and now, I know I can trust Santana with my life, like she has me with hers.

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Guard's Log – Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 366

I was promoted to Officer, and this is my last rotation of the camps. Rather than have me in a more hands on approach, they have me pushing papers and passing inspections. If anything, this position has allowed me to help the Daughters of Avalon save families and friends from being herded like cattle.

Change is coming, they say, and all I can do is trust them. They have allies and support in the ministry, and the Minister of Magic is due to step down, soon. I can only hope the next one will shut these camps down and let everyone get on with their lives.

I want Santana to be free. I want to eat apple pie with her in the Isle of Apples, and I want to see her free of chains and bruises. I want her, I confess. My attraction and devotion to this woman has grown with each passing day, and I admit that I am intrigued by all these new emotions. She most likely doesn't see me that way at all, but I can't help that when her gaze lingers on me longer than usual it's because she is imagining what I am; a kiss, a touch, a moment.

I'm being foolish. She's still an occupant, and I'm still a guard. Nothing can happen while we live within these walls. We need freedom.

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Guard's Log – Officer Quinn Fabray – Day 399

The Minister of Magic stepped down today, and in his place, a supporter of the Daughters of Avalon was instilled. The new minister abhors these camps, and they're being shut down within the next three months. Victory! Freedom at last!

I can't wait to tell Santana later on. This is fantastic news. Our sisters must be celebrating in the Isle of Apples, and soon Santana and I can join them. When I'm out of this uniform, when I'm out of this horrible place, things can finally start moving. I'll be able to help them more, and in time, our service won't be needed anymore.

I really feel like I'm making a choice, and I thank Merlin and Morgana for allowing me to meet, like, love Santana, and see beyond her harsh exterior. She's been my salvation.

*0*0*

Quinn stood outside the interrogation room, listening to Hudson take lead on the suspects they had found in their last raid. Already, she knew right off the bat that these three were not involved with the Daughters of Avalon. They were men, to begin with, which was a big no for the group, and they also had no connection to Wales whatsoever.

Wales was sacred ground for the Daughters of Avalon, and that wouldn't have changed. These guys were most likely going to be helped by the Daughters, not recruited into the Daughters. However, that wasn't information Quinn was just going to hand over.

Heading back to her cubicle, she shuffled through her paperwork and went over the notes from that night. Her statement about the first sighting in four years of Santana Lopez was pinned to the top. She was still wanted, her crime deserving of official punishment, and yet her motives implied that punishment might not have been so deserving. If she was still trying to help people, if she was still working with the Daughters, there had to be a good reason behind it.

But no, Quinn couldn't think like that.

Looking deeper into the file, she found her statement, and the statement of others detailing the incident, the one thing to expel all those doubts about Santana from her mind. Flashes of words, unprovoked attack, glimpses of moving pictures, blood running down her face, anxiety creeping up her spine, her final word before knocking her out, a lump forming in her throat, I'm sorry, and with a slam, Quinn shut the file and pushed away from her desk.

She couldn't sit there. She couldn't sit there and do nothing when a known criminal was on the run. She needed to be searching, to go back to the start and have a look for her. Santana was out there, and she had the gall to show Quinn she was still alive after all this time. She even had the nerve to laugh.

Striding through the halls of the ministry, Quinn made her way to the floo network. She wasn't thinking straight when she grabbed the powder and called out her destination, but she had to see for herself. It had been so long since she'd been there and it was about time she returned.

Landing in a fireplace just over the border in Wales, at The Geoffrey's Inn, a magical pub and lodging house. She'd been there many times before, and the bartender didn't even look twice as she shuffled past the regulars and headed out the door.

From one pub to another, she walked the road to the next village, keeping close to the side of the road and out of sight. Her years of training told her these actions were rash. She knew better than to go off like this without telling anyone, but her heart was in control, not her brain.

Rising to the top of the hill, which overlooked the quiet and sleepy looking town of Camlann, she spotted the pub where it all started, the place she was initiated into the Daughters of Avalon, and where her trust of the notorious fugitive Santana Lopez bloomed.

The pub hadn't changed, it never did, and with each footstep she drew nearer, her heart thumping like a drum calling her home. The other Aurors were never told about this, she couldn't give it away. It felt too personal. It was too close to the memories she didn't want to share. It would most likely target her as a terrorist or spy, and that was just not the case.

Standing outside the door, she took one final breath and entered where it all began.

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Infirmary Log – Healer Saunders – based at Rehabilitation Camp 3

Patient: Officer Quinn Fabray

Presented with: laceration to the head, blood loss, unconscious due to stunning spell of severe nature, dehydration, and broken right arm.

Patient has been moved to St Mungo's due to severity of the stunning spell. All other ailments treated on site; no complications.

Suspected Inmate attack. No known details as of yet. Aurors immediately on scene; adamant to talk to patient – requested she be woken regardless of ailment- request denied.

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Auror: Nelson Colbert WID: 26435

Immediate assistance required at Rehabilitation Camp 3; inmate attacked a guard and escaped.

Inmate 72836 – Santana Lopez, believed to be armed and extremely dangerous. Initiated into Rehabilitation Camp 3 for being associated with known Dark Arts families and criminals. Has given no helpful information during interviews. Hit-Wizards have used Veritaserum but she has developed an immunity to it. One known marking on her body when admitted: a raven on the right side of her rib cage. As of yet, unknown association with any terrorist groups.

The attack took place in Inmate 72836's cell. The purpose behind Officer Fabray's being there is still unknown (Read File 6653 for more details- Code Clearance Level 5 required). Alarm was raised forty minutes after Officer Fabray gained entry, and guards on site found her unconscious and bleeding. No sign of her wand, and Inmate 72836 had vacated the premises.

Thorough searches resulted in nothing, and as of this time, Officer Fabray is receiving treatment at St. Mungo's and cannot be questioned. She was hit with a Stupefy Duo spell, which might result in memory loss and confusion. Auror Department does not expect her to be any help. Preliminary searches of her office and home have resulted in nothing.

Current search for Inmate 72836: Active.

Amendment (eight weeks after attack): Code clearance granted- File 6653. Santana Lopez has been linked to little known terrorist group The Daughters of Avalon. Suspected leader. Search still active. Quinn Fabray has been enlisted as an Auror for the department. Awaiting further leads.

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The Isles of Apples Pub was deserted when Quinn entered. Outside, the night drew in, and the candles inside casted harsh shadows across the room. Yet no one was there, not even a bartender or a waitress. It hadn't been abandoned, because the heating was on, a nice change from the cool wind outside, but Quinn suspected whoever had been there had seen her coming and prepared themselves.

She should have told the other Aurors about this. She shouldn't have been so foolish. This was probably going to get her killed. She was a traitor, a traitor to the Ministry for withholding information, and a traitor to the Daughters of Avalon for hunting their leader for the last four years.

She was caught on both sides; trying to protect the wizarding establishment from war, and trying to protect the people from a government that bordered on oppressive. The war heroes of years before would be disgusted by what wizarding Britain had become. If only they knew.

Taking out her wand, and moving round the room by the walls, Quinn glanced over the bar to check no one was hiding there. It was empty, too. That left the staircase to the left and a door in the back. The Daughter of Avalon meetings and gatherings used to take place upstairs, but she knew there was a basement for emergencies.

All attempts to scan the house for number of occupants failed as Quinn moved towards the back door. It led towards the kitchen, with a small storage cupboard and the basement door next to it.

She had stood in those kitchens feeding and doing minor healing spells on families caught up in the Hit-Wizards' grasps. She had stood with her Sisters and thought of Santana, the reason she was there, and promised a better tomorrow. She had fallen in love with the apple pie and the ale and the woman who sent her there in these walls.

But personal memories didn't make up for an unprovoked attack and a chase lasting just over four years. She had been in love with the idea of Santana Lopez, the harsh and mouthy inmate of Rehabilitation Camp 3, the fearless warrior and the loyalist of witches, not the reality of Santana Lopez. Quinn would now describe her as a complete stranger.

It's funny how things changed.

The basement was empty, a cold draft making Quinn shiver, but it wasn't an empty search. There was another door, one she had never seen before, and the sound of someone on the other side told her enough. This was it. This was the moment she had been preparing for since being left to bleed on that cell floor.

She knew Santana was on the other side of this door, she didn't even have to think about it. She was there, and Quinn had finally caught her, finally cornered her like she had cornered Quinn, and it was all about to be over. She just had to open the damn door.

Just like in the derelict house two nights ago, the handle turned itself and the door opened.

"I wondered when you'd show up," Santana drawled, wand in hand, ready to defend herself, and her eyes alight with mirth.

It was all going to be over. Quinn was finally going to put it all behind her. Relief, it should have been relief coursing through her system, but instead, only dread. This woman, this witch, she turned Quinn to putty each and every time their eyes locked, and now she was frozen, staring at someone she should curse to hell and then arrest, but completely unable to move.

"You going to come in, or will we do this here?" Santana asked, pulling the door open further. She seemed to know Quinn's answer before the woman herself did, and walked into the room, knowing Quinn was going to follow.

Follow she did, and it was with a small flick of her wand, she shut the door behind them.

Over a year of getting to know each other, of working for the same cause, of bonding through magic and conversation, all ruined in a senseless attack, resulting in a four year search; and it all boiled down to this one moment, right there, in that room, in what was their headquarters.

The Daughters of Avalon, bonded for life, or so it was meant to be.

Now, with wands in hands and fire in Quinn's eyes, if they both made it out alive, it would be a miracle.

*0*0*