CHAPTER 20: WORTH FIGHTING FOR

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"A woman's weapon is her tongue."

-Hermione Gingold

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"I made you some cocoa," Grace said gently, handing a warm mug to Lenna.

They had parted with their dad on the beach hours ago and had returned home. It was quite late, but no one seemed to be going to sleep anytime soon. Cal was putting things away in the kitchen as Grace took a seat beside Lenna who was staring distantly into the fire in their hearth.

"Thank you," she replied, taking the mug and taking a small sip. She got some whipped cream on her upper lip and Grace smiled.

"Your necklace is beautiful," Grace complimented now that she could see the handsome charm on its chain.

"I'm quite fond of it, too," Lenna replied, trying for a smile. Grace patted her leg and Lenna took a bracing breath and another sip of cocoa. Cal came out into the room, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He dropped down on Lenna's other side and took one of her hands in both of his comfortingly.

"Any idea why he was summoned?" he asked.

Lenna shook her head.

"I'm sure he's fine. They don't just kill off their own."

She nodded again.

"She doesn't want to talk about it, Cal," Grace murmured.

"No, actually it's nice to talk about it with someone," Lenna replied gently. "It's been hard, dealing with it all on my own. The disappearances, the worry—cycles of relief and anxiety. I'm going to go prematurely gray." She tried for a smile again.

Cal chuckled. "Well you have a second home here as I hope you know."

She nodded. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'm sorry the end of the night had to be difficult for both of you and so confusing to Dad."

"Aw, it's fine. Things happen. And we had a good day."

"Yes," Lenna replied. "Yes, it was an amazing day. Thank you so much, both of you."

Grace put an arm around her and squeezed her gently. "You're more than welcome, sweetheart."

The clock above their mantle struck once, twice…eleven times. They feel into silence. Out of seemingly nowhere, a silvery white arctic fox bounded into their midst and stopped in front of Lenna, staring at her unwaveringly.

"There was a battle," came Regulus' strained voice from the fox's mouth. "I'm safe and recovering. I'm sorry for having to leave. Please apologize to your family for me. I love you." The fox then faded away in wisps of silvery white.

Lenna said nothing but her shoulders visibly loosened and she hung her head, closing her eyes in relief.

"Thank god," Grace murmured.

"I see he's taken your fox," Cal commented, smiling a little.

Lenna snorted softly. "Oh, because I'm sure yours is so much more manly, bluebird boy."

Cal chuckled.

"I have his black bear now," Grace giggled.

"A battle," Cal repeated, humor dissipating from his face as he thought about Regulus' words. "Maybe there will be something in the Prophet about it tomorrow."

"Doubt it. You-Know-Who controls most of the newspaper and other media outlets through the Ministry these days," Lenna replied darkly.

"Are you certain?" Grace asked, looking shocked and bewildered. "The Ministry? But it's what's fighting him!"

"No, the Order of the Phoenix is what's fighting him. The Ministry is You-Know-Who's tool to hold control over the wizarding people. Yes the fear he inspires and the Death Eaters he sends to do his bidding control a lot, but there would be a bigger rebellion if the threat were more than shadows. By controlling the Ministry without the wizarding public at large knowing about it, he controls what they are told and basically what they think about what they're told. It's ingenious, really. The world's magical pillar of stability, order, and safety is really rotted to the core, but the world continues to take a big old bite out of it every day."

"Why isn't the word being spread about this by those who know?" Cal demanded.

"Those who go shooting their mouths off are targeted by his Eaters," Lenna replied softly. "You two need to stay as low as possible. No risks. No nothing."

Cal opened his mouth looking ready to argue, but then his eyes landed on Grace and his mouth closed.

"You work for the Prophet, though," Cal said. "I read your article every week."

"I know," Lenna replied. "I'm one of their top columnists. But I never get to write about anything important." Her eyes sparkled. "Although I've been thinking of doing something with my articles—or at least one of them, as they'll put two of mine in if I write them. I work in the Prophet and hear most of everything that's really been going on, and it's been so frustrating to me that none of it actually gets in the paper. But if I work out a code with the Order, I could send them information through it every week without anyone but them knowing."

"Brilliant," Cal laughed. "That's brilliant, Len!"

"Wouldn't it be easier just to send owls?" Grace asked, looking apprehensive.

"Owls can so easily get apprehended," Cal replied. "I like Len's idea. It's fighting back right under the Ministry's nose."

"And if I write the article about something actually interesting and normal, no one would ever realize it's coded," Lenna added, grinning.

"It's still dangerous," Grace said softly. "You should talk to Regulus about it first. Anyone in the Order who knows of it could let it slip or give your name under torture or something and then they'd be after you."

"It's like Cal said," Lenna replied, looking away. "Some things are just worth fighting for."

Cal was quiet, rubbing his bristly jaw, and then growled suddenly, "You'd think there would be a way for Regulus to get out. If he didn't want to fight for You-Know-Who anymore. I bet the Order would protect him if he deflected."

"You-Know-Who is far too powerful, unfortunately. Pledging yourself to him is a sentence of either life-long servitude or death. The Order can't even protect themselves well enough from him—how could they protect Regulus? Especially if You-Know-Who wanted to kill him personally?"

"But couldn't you two disappear one day and go into hiding? You could go to the Falklands or something—someplace random where no one would ever be bothered to look. You and seven thousand sheep just being able to live your lives without fear."

Lenna pinched her lips together, her eyes pained. "You don't understand. It's not a matter of distance. The Dark Mark is like a tracer. As long as Regulus has it, You-Know-Who can always find him. And don't ask if there's a way to remove the Mark, because there isn't. I know. I researched it obsessively… With what I was able to read about what's known about You-Know-Who and his followers and with what Regulus has told me, I'm pretty much an expert now. How they operate, known and some unknown members… But I can never share any of it. It would so easily be traced back to me.

"Regulus and I have discussed it many times, and we both agree that unfortunately the best way to live as normally and happily as possible is for him to play the part of the Death Eater that he signed up for and live a double life—one with them and one with me. It's hard, Merlin knows. Painful and terrible, but I wouldn't give it up. Every stolen minute of time with him is worth it. And I know the risk—he could be dead tomorrow and so could I. But I won't leave him to safe my own life. The life I want is with him, no matter what that life looks like."

Cal and Grace were both quiet when she finished her small speech.

"Well," Cal said bracingly after a moment, "no one will ever be able to say you two aren't brave. I'd be out fighting with the Order if it wasn't for Gracie."

Grace locked eyes with him and shook her head slightly. "Don't you go anywhere, Calun. I'm not as strong as Lenna."

"I'm not so strong," Lenna said softly.

"Sweetie…" Grace soothed, wrapping her arms around her again.

Lenna sipped her cocoa. "I'd like to go to bed now," she murmured. Grace let her go so that she could stand up and go into the guest bedroom.

"Think she'll be alright?" Grace whispered worriedly to Cal, a gentle hand on his arm.

"She's dealt with the same before, I think," he replied. "Worse, I bet, when he can't get a patronus out and she's left wondering whether he's alright or not. I think she'll be okay. I'd love to wallop him for putting her through all this, but…I don't think he deserves it. I guess he's doing his best with what he has. He was a moron for getting involved in You-Know-Who's lot, but he knows it now and regrets it… I could see that much on his face upstairs. Nothing we can do but support both of them, I think," he sighed.

The two of them went up to bed. Lenna listened to their footsteps until they couldn't be heard and then she held a pillow to herself and buried her face in it as if it could burry all her problems with it.

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