MARE FINEHEART HADN'T GIVEN MUCH THOUGHT to how the world would end. No one ever did, really. Teenagers—particularly, those just entering young adulthood—had their fair share of existential crises, contemplating what purpose life had, and whether a simple mistake could truly erase a happy ending from existence, and maybe if life had an end or merely several beginnings—but no one could deny, the idea of a mass-collection of civilizations collapsing was utterly terrifying. So no, if you asked Mare Fineheart if she had known what was to come, that her whole world would come to a bleak, abrupt end, she'd tell you, "I can't say that I did."
Thinking about how life would inevitably end, and, with it, everything she'd ever achieved or done was not something Mare could have ever brought up at the dinner table. People would have called her crazy. They'd tell her that she had no reason to be thinking such dark thoughts. Until they saw their world burning all around them, they'd deny that it was possible; "How can you think that? We've gone this long without an incident!"
Mare couldn't just say that's bullshit, and summarize the Cretaceous-Paleogene extinction that happened millions and millions of years ago. Mare couldn't just say that maybe planet-Earth would still be there, and maybe life would go on for you, but not for her. Not for her friends and family.
No, no, no… To Mare, this was something that even the seers could not have predicted.
The extinction of the Wizarding World. The collapse of the Ministry. The destruction of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley—even Ilvermorny, and Beauxbatons were not safe. Whoever did this, they did not leave a single magical structure untouched. Durmstrang was nothing but rubble. They killed everyone. They destroyed everything.
And Mare Fineheart was the only survivor.
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In the months following the extinction of the Wizarding World, Mare Fineheart traveled the world (she was only sixteen and never learned Apparation) and visited every magical sight she knew. She was in denial that everything was gone. She refused to believe she was the only living witch. If that were the case, then magic had simply vanished—and if the monsters who did this came back, it'd take merely a swish of their wands to take her from this world to the next, too.
Mare went to France, to Bulgaria, to Ireland, to Scotland, to the States. She even visited Australia. She couldn't count how many times she'd had to raid Muggle houses, to obtain money for the expensive flight-trips. Stealing was wrong, she knew—but she needed to know the fate of the Wizarding community. And yet, every place she went, she found nothing. She remembered going on a trip around the world with her parents as a child, visiting all the famed Wizarding landmarks. Her parents were big on history, and socializing; they'd wanted to introduce Mare to the big, magical world they'd grown up in. It wasn't hard for Mare to remember which countries had magical communities, and where they'd be.
Mare had to admit—nothing came close to the devastating disappointment that was hunting for magical peoples in England. Though she could feel a bigger weight on her shoulders for every country she went to, every blow that hit her when she'd come face-to-face with happy, fictious scenery for every landmark obliterated off the map… it took all that Mare had in her not to scream her lungs out when she realized that it was like Diagon Alley never even existed. Like the Ministry was fictional. She felt like she was undergoing a siege within her mind, like she was having a trick played on her reality, until she found that she could still cast spells perfectly.
The direness of the situation was slowly sinking in. Mare was frantic. She was sixteen. If the world needed saving, it was down to actual heroes—not scrawny little girls still going through puberty. And not to mention, Mare had witnessed the deaths of her mum and dad. She was stricken with grief, still; it took all her composure to even care about the fate of the Wizarding World.
She was terrified, and clueless. Everyone was dead. Everything was gone. She couldn't just go on with her life normally in the Muggle world. She was a Pureblood, and she didn't know the difference between a microwave and a toaster. The first time she interacted with Muggles was when she was nine, and got lost from her parents at King's Crossing (her family miscalculated their Apparation). She was familiar with people who used magic just to clean their kitchen counters; now she was around these strange, ordinary Muggles, who were bound to scream and point if she casted a simple cleaning spell.
After three months alone, of living off stolen money on the streets of London, it occurred to Mare that she never even thought about Wizarding records. She remembered the court cases her mum would act as judge in for witches and wizards who never got their births, or the births of their children, written into legal history.
Many of them lived with Muggle wives and husbands, or were Muggle-born who never really saw a need to legally obtain Wizarding citizenship if they returned to Muggle life after Hogwarts. And then there were Squibs, people born of Wizarding families without the magical gene, and it made Mare suddenly realize—
She wasn't alone.
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"Fuck," Mare muttered to herself, trekking hard up the snowy hill leading to a little town called Arbington. She was dressed in a Christmas sweater and patch-embedded parka she got from a cheap thrifting shop in London, and the pair of pants she'd had since the start of the end. Her feet were encased in a pair of snow boots she'd stolen from a Muggle house in Australia. Her hair hung long, reaching to just below her collarbone, like an ebony lake of tresses, and her bangs were swept to the side so she could see through the icy, snowy air.
Her mum, Farrah Fineheart, had once mentioned her brother—Mare's uncle—that lived in this area, named Sebastian. He was erased from Wizarding records after it was discovered he didn't have magical ability, and he was basically shunned from the family after he reached an old enough age to move out and attend Muggle college. Mare's grandfather had a very strong opinion about Sebastian, calling him a traitor for becoming a dentist when he could have easily done groundskeeping at Hogwarts, but Mare was certain that it really came down to her grandfather's prejudice for Squibs.
Mare had met Sebastian on a number of occasions, most of them being on holidays or during the summer. He lived alone, but had two children with a Muggle woman named Mallory; both were taken from him after the divorce, during the child custody fight. He only got to see them on two days annually, one being on Easter and another being on Halloween. Mare had always thought it unfair, considering Mallory was a food-store manager and didn't deserve the ruling in her favor, but Mare supposed the court had a femme bias when it came to child custody cases. His house was the only Muggle place she'd ever been to, aside from the one time she was lost in King's Crossing, in her first sixteen years of living, and yet, she never learned how to work a television or the difference between a microwave and toaster.
Though it had been a while since she'd last seen him (her fifteenth birthday, if she was counting right) Mare still remembered the look of the house. She remembered playing in the backyard with his Beagle, named Maxwell the III, and the house was on the end of the street, recognizable for its black roof and ashen, peeling siding.
When Mare got halfway down the street, she finally saw it. And she sunk down with relief at the sight of his car (Mare was blissfully ignorant to the idea of types and ages of vehicles) parked out front.
"Thank Godric," Mare said silently to herself, then sprung into a sprint, barely stopping to apologize to any bewildered Muggles as she flew past them on the street. With the burst of the energy, Mare was able to get to the front door in less than two minutes, and she had to stop a few feet to take a breather. She wasn't used to running—not even in her Hogwarts days—so this was new territory for her. She didn't even have to run when she was committing all those burglaries, but that was all thanks to her trusty wand.
Mare could feel the pain of long-distance running in her legs, but tried to ignore it as best as she could, her hand reaching out to press the doorbell.
The sound of the doorbell cemented Mare to the reality of what she was doing. At first, she wasn't sure just what she was doing—whether this was some sort of lucid dream where she thought she had control over the world's ending but would have it slip from her grasp, or this was her rewriting her fate a step at a time—but now, she could feel what she needed to do in her bones. She didn't know whether Sebastian would have any reasonable ideas as to what could save the Wizarding World, but she hoped with all her might he would. She had a lot of faith and trust she was putting in him, and if this entire trip was a waste of hope and strength, then Mare honestly thought this would be it. The end of the road.
Through trembling, frozen ears, Mare could hear murmured curses and approaching footsteps. When the footsteps stopped, she began to shuffle awkwardly. She knew Sebastian was looking through the peephole, and he was probably confused why she hadn't Apparated in with her mother. If he was still ignorant to what had occurred to their family.
It was all Mare's fault. She had assumed that her uncle was dead, but she had completely forgotten that he was undocumented and erased from Wizarding records. She forgot that he escaped the radar of her mum and dad's killers. Otherwise, she would have immediately tracked him down.
Like she was doing now.
"Uncle, I'm sorry to be bothering you on a Sunday, but something terrible has happened—" Mare began to say frantically, but she was interrupted by the door swinging open. She didn't have a chance to really take her uncle's appearance in before he was roughly manhandling her inside.
Mare stumbled forward, having little-to-no control over her body's motions, and she would have fell if it were not for the tight grip her uncle had on her arms. Blinking furiously, completely confused by his actions, Mare attempted to wrestle away from him. "Uncle, what is this—"
"Sebastian, is this your niece?" said a velvety voice, and Mare froze. She wasn't aware he had guests over. "She looks just like Farrah."
Farrah. Mum. "How do you know my mother?" Mare whispered, unable to speak any louder. She looked away from her uncle's shoes—a pair of expensive Muggle loafers—to face whoever it was that knew Mum. It was an older lady, with silver hair bound into a tight bun, and eyes so beady and black it looked like she had bottomless sockets on her face. She had a jaw so angular it was almost like a triangle, and she was dressed in Muggle clothes. That made Mare less alert, knowing this woman wasn't one of the supremist monsters that killed her family.
"Don't look so alarmed, child," the woman told her. "I'm a family friend."
"Don't mention Farrah to her, Elise," her uncle said warningly, grip tightening on Mare's arms. He sounded like a man who'd lost everything. And maybe he was. "It's been months, I know, but children were not made to feel grief this strong from such a young age."
Mare twisted herself to look at her uncle. Sebastian had seen better days, that was to be sure. His hair was greasy and worn long, a shadow covering his jaw. His eyes wore bags so sunken and purple they nearly looked like paint, and his face was thinner than she remembered. It made a streak of sympathy rocket through her, against her will; she wasn't used to seeing family so exhausted. Grief looked a lot uglier on the people she loved. "Uncle…" Mare threw her free arm around him, unable to control herself. After months of living on the streets and thinking that everyone she loved was dead, she just needed to feel flesh against her, and that flesh needed to be familiar. The comfort she felt from just a simple hug was refreshing, and regenerated that will of living that Mare had lost the moment she watched her mother die.
Sebastian returned the hug, releasing her arm so they could each hold both around the other. His hug held a vigor to it that surprised Mare; she didn't remember him ever being so happy to see her. They loved each other, she knew, but this was more than she had anticipated; Sebastian was always happiest to see Mare's older brother, Matthew, and Mare was lucky if he even spared a second to greet her during the holidays.
Maybe he was just grateful that someone had survived. Mare was sure he'd gone these last months assuming his entire family was dead—excluding his father, who he probably hated, if what Mare's mother had said was true—and here she was, alive and breathing. To Sebastian, maybe she was a miracle.
At least, until the group of scary-old people in the room had a presence that throbbed, and Mare had to release her uncle. She was still confused that the old lady with the bun—Elise—knew her mother's name. Sebastian was undercover as a Muggle daily, and if this woman knew her mother, then—
"Are you all Squibs?" asked Mare, holding a hand to her uncle's arm. She still couldn't believe that he was alive. She kept having to touch him to assert that he was real. "Or—wait—Uncle, I'm sorry—"
Elise smiled fondly. "Yes," she said, gesturing to the six other strangers standing around the room. One of the people standing was a teenage boy, no older than Mare herself. The rest were older, two of them Sebastian's age while the other three were as ancient as Elise. "Theo here barely escaped death himself. He was only expunged from records last year. And you, my dear, are a miracle. How did you manage to escape their notice?"
Mare appreciated that they didn't name her parents' killers. She didn't want to cry in front of strangers. "I don't know, actually…" Mare let out a shuddering breath. "I was with my mum in the Ministry. I was there when she died, a-and…" Mare sniffled. "She saved my life. One of them caught us on the Unspeakable wing, and they—they shot the killing curse at me, but she jumped in the way."
Sebastian let out a growl. "Who the fuck even are they? They're wizards themselves. Why did they erase the entire fucking Wizarding World?"
Elise looked at him calmly. "They are former Death Eaters, ones still angered by the Dark Lord's defeat. They banded together to eradicate the Wizarding World of 'impure' magical-beings, ones that rallied against Lord Voldemort in the war. They've killed more than witches and wizards, too—they've done the same favor to centaurs, werewolves, faeries. They're determined to rewrite Wizarding History. That is why they have destroyed all Wizarding civilizations; they're starting their own."
"How—how am I still alive, then?" Mare stammered, completely horrified by what she was hearing. She was there when Harry Potter killed Lord Voldemort, and she thought the bad, the ugly, was all over with his defeat. Yet here she was, a year later, and the Chosen One was dead. As were all of his friends.
Sebastian leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Who cares? The good thing is you're safe. The Death Eaters have no idea you're still alive."
"Except they do, Sebastian," said Elise, sounding solemn. She didn't falter under the furious gaze that came after from Mare's uncle. "They've been keeping tallies. They have the records that were in the Ministry. They'll soon come after Mare, if they aren't already on the chase."
Mare began to hyperventilate, a sudden chill taking over her hands, feet, and throat as she felt the claws of utter terror marking their territory in her head and stomach. Sebastian felt her shaking, and he quickly pulled her into a hug, patting down her hair as he clumsily attempted to soothe her. If it was any other year, Mare might have laughed; he nearly poked her in the eyeball.
"Mare… you're the only one who can save the Wizarding World."
Once her anxiety subsided and her body stilled, Mare gave the older woman a dubious look. "But… everyone's dead. We have no way of saving it."
Elise snapped her finger, sending a rather-stern look to Theo. He scampered forward with a golden, looping chain-link in his hands. When his hand fell open to let the chain-link drop into Elise's awaiting palm, the object was finally visible for all to see. Mare was shell-shocked to see it was a time-turner, not a necklace. She gaped at it, finally understanding what Elise meant.
When time was but an illusion, anything was possible.
"You will need to go back in time to the day before the attack," said Elise. She pulled out a paper from her back-pocket. "This is a list of all the perpetrators of the attack. You need to get this to Kingsley; he'll know what to do."
"How do you know all this?" Mare asked. She didn't understand how this woman knew everything about the Death Eaters—where they were residing and what their motives were—while Mare had been clueless the past three months, even when she faced down with them as flesh and blood.
Elise smiled softly. "I have a brother who infiltrated their ranks. He keeps me up-to-date so that when we would finally find someone magical to save the day… This Time-Turner here... My brother, Alex, managed to snag it off Theodore Nott. It's the only Time-Turner I know of in existence. All other ones have been destroyed."
Mare nodded. She tried not to feel uneasy as Elise handed her the Time-Turner and list of names. She continued to stare at the woman. "Why can't you do it?"
"We're Squibs, honey. But you—you're Farrah Fineheart's daughter. Marcus Fineheart's daughter. They will trust you. They wouldn't trust any of us. There's a prejudice for Squibs in the Magical World that has yet to fade away. They especially would not trust Sebastian, after everything that went down between him and his father."
When Mare looked at Sebastian, he had his head bowed. Mare was struck with an impulsive thought. If she was to face the tide, she didn't want to do it alone. "Can Sebastian come with me?"
Elise looked reluctant. And slightly annoyed. "They may not take you seriously if he accompanies you…" The pleading look on Mare's face seemed to win her over. Disregarding the logical answer, in which she'd send the girl off alone,, the old woman sighed. "Alright."
Sebastian seemed stiff, and quite annoyed with this change of plans, but he wouldn't speak. Mare could tell he was secretly (deep, deep down inside) pleased in knowing he'd be able to watch his niece's back from more than just the sidelines. She smiled slightly, just as he said, "This is going to go horribly wrong, Elise. I can just feel it."
"Oh, shut yer trap," said one of the elders, throwing Sebastian a dirty look.
A dark scowl appeared on Sebastian's mouth, and his fingers twitched. If he were not an ordinary Squib, and had a wand in his hand, then the elder man would have been hexed. A Muggle brawl would undoubtedly have had to suffice, with this lack of resources, but Elise seemed to hold a leash on everyone in this room, because neither reacted the way Mare was anticipating. Instead, Sebastian only said, "What day was it that the Ministry was attacked?"
"July 18th," said Mare instantly. For a moment, she relived the memories that accompanied the date; dying screams, shattering glass, crashing furniture. "A day after…" She was going to say my mother's birthday but that was not something she wanted to think about. Sebastian's tight-lipped frown was evidence that he, too, remembered, and he, too, didn't want to remember. Not when there was a chance that Mare would fail, and her mother would stay dead.
"July 17th is the day that'll suit this mission best," said Elise in a firm, do-not-argue-with-me voice, making Mare flinch, thoughts flitting back to thoughts of her mother, and worries that she wouldn't be able to hold it together in the face of the grief that lingered from her mother. "We'll need you to immediately find Shacklebolt, and inform him what will happen if he does not form a plan. Make sure your mother and your past self do not see you; otherwise, you may affect the future in not-so-beneficial ways." Elise gave Mare a stern glare, one that reminded her of her father. "And Sebastian—you'll act as guardian. Keep her safe, and get her to where she needs to be."
Sebastian muttered, "Alright."
Elise walked over to Mare on light feet, and pulled the chain-link around her neck. "Good luck," she said with a smile. Mare tried to ignore the blatant fact that everything was going too fast, and she couldn't find an honest explanation why she had to do it, why there couldn't be any other option. The teenager her age could have been a perfect candidate for this mission.
And what if everything went horribly wrong? Then Mare would be the one to blame, and she'd have to hold the weight of the Wizarding World's fate on her shoulders. Like she was now. The fate of her friends and family hung in the balance, and Mare was absolutely terrified she was going to mess up.
Mare reached to her left, grabbing for Sebastian's hand. He placed it in her small, soft palm, giving it a gentle squeeze for assurance. Mare could feel her heart beating as hard and fast as it could possibly go, and it made a sick sense of panic swell up in her stomach. All she could think of was the several different ways this could go wrong.
Elise pulled back to stand with the other elders, putting a hand on the teenage boy's shoulder. "Theo already has the date set in for you. We will see you soon," the old woman vowed, and that's when things began to spin.
Mare grabbed a firm hold onto her uncle's body, terrified of this feeling, of how it made her feel sick and airy all at the same time. She felt like she was suffocating, and by the shaky feel of her uncle's arms, Sebastian felt it too. They huddled in close, allowing the chain of the necklace to go in between their bodies, and as they were sucked back through time, Mare didn't allow herself to think.
Her mind went completely blank.
When they dropped onto a dark, stone floor, the necklace tore itself from Mare's throat and flew into the nearest wall, making a panging sound that caused Mare to flinch. She was disoriented, and she only caught faint glimpses of the place she was in, but that did nothing to give her a clue as to where exactly she was. Did the Time Turner put her in Sebastian's house? The flooring certainly felt a lot different. Or was this the Ministry? It would have been packed with chatter and felt a lot more crowded if that were the case.
Mare put a hand to her head, and blinked her bleary eyes open—
Only to see she was in neither of those places. This was Hogwarts.
"Um… Uncle Sebastian?" He didn't respond. Where was he? Mare looked around, her panic only ceasing and breath releasing when she saw his prone body slumped against the wall, beside the Time Turner. "Oh, good… you're still here."
Sebastian groaned in reply. His head was at an awkward position against the wall, so it wasn't a surprise that he was in pain. For a brief moment, Mare wondered if he put himself in that predicament, or if the slip through time did it. "What the fuck hit me…" the man mumbled.
Mare shook her head, turning her attention to her surroundings. Hopefully, it was June 17th, 1999. Otherwise, they'd need to make a change of plans, and figure out a way to use the Time Turner. Mare had absolutely no clue what to do when it came to Time Turners; neither did Sebastian. That's what made this mission such a pass-or-fail. Hopefully—
"Oh, Godric! Are you alright?" someone called over to Mare, and hurried footsteps followed the words. It was a girl's voice. And the footsteps were soft, like pitter-patters of rain. Mare turned to look at her, a sheet of curly black hair shuttering over her face. "You look worse than I thought… Do you need help to the Hospital Wing? Pomfrey may have something to help, if you hit your head or anything."
Mare's face cinched into a frown. She took in the girl, confused by her appearance. She looked to be a seventh year, the year Mare would have been going into this year, and had bright red hair that fell around her heart-shaped face in waves, and a pair of emerald-green eyes that flattered her creamy-white complexion. She was dressed in a very modest uniform, and had a Head Girl badge pinned to her robes. "Um… I'm alright. Just a little disoriented, is all. Uh, what year is it?"
The girl looked at her curiously. "1977. Why do you ask?"
Mare's face went white as a sheet. She stared at the stranger—utter shock on her face—and said slowly, "What is your name?"
"Lily Evans, Head Girl," the girl said proudly, a smile on her face. "Oh—are you okay? And—is your friend over there okay? The two of you look… shaken, for lack of a better word."
Sebastian was just coming to, and both him and Mare shared an equally-petrified look.
They were in an entirely different generation.
