A/N: I would just like to say fuck JK Rowling's transphobic ass. I do not agree with nor stand for that but despite how much of a scumbag of an author she had turned out to be she had created a wonderful - albeit a little troubled - world that means a lot to so many people, myself included.

PROLOGUE

NOW

Gwyn tried to be more afraid. She tried to allow anxiety to run through her veins, tried to let it cloud her with thoughts that she would wish could be ripped away like it might have a few months before; she could only hope that some type of feeling would replace the overwhelming apathy at the fact she was locked in an interrogation room. More people had been in and out of the room that she could count. Some faces looked familiar, someone from a work party perhaps? Names had been dropped but they were quickly forgotten in her daze. Promises had been made but all it took was her continued silence until their true and very empty nature was revealed. Same with the threats, though they seemed a little more promising. Not that they bothered her as much as the Aurors were clearly wanting. And Gwyn was feeling nothing. No fear as people discussed her fate. No worry as they refused to give her food until she spoke. No panic as they said her sister's name. That was the closest though; Gwyn felt her eyes flitter up at Auror what's-her-face at the mention of Briallen.

She guessed that's why they brought her in but even as the door swung open and her familiar figure entered the room Gwyn just blinked slowly.

"Please wait outside until I'm finished, Brown." Her sister's voice was flat, not very demanding but Auror Brown rose to her feet and exited the room nonetheless. Bri was never very demanding. She was always more soft-spoken and understanding than to demand things from people, but even at her gentle requests, most people would do whatever she wanted. She had a certain hold over people, their mother had always said. With a simple smile and question Bri could find out almost anything she wanted from people she wasn't that familiar with, and with those, she was familiar with it often only took a raise of the brow and they were offering up information to her.

Gwyn sat up slightly, now leaning forward on her elbows to look at her sister. Bri stared back silently.

Gwyn couldn't help but search her face, noting how her usual cared for skin - olive and clear, albeit a little dry, Bri would complain - was dull in comparison. The dark circles that hung low under her hazel eyes almost managed to distract her from the breakout of pimples on her cheek and jawline or the fact that her face was unusually bare of makeup.

Gwyn sat up further, letting her bound hands run against the smooth table.

Bri looked like she hadn't slept in the two (three?) days that Gwyn had been in the interrogation room. Her eyes weren't as bright. Her hair was messy, pulled back into her most detested hairstyle; a bun. Her clothes were creased. Gwyn couldn't help but wonder what her sister's co-workers thought about their situation. Were they confused to see the perpetually neat Briallen looking so disheveled? Would they understand? Did they even know that their newest detainee and their coworker were related?

Bri spoke first. "If you tell me what happened I can make this go away, Gwyn." The words were too simple. Too formal, too stern. Bri's voice was usually so full of happiness, the sing-song of her Welsh accent only making the everlasting giggle that her tone held even more joyful. At that moment it seemed almost dead in comparison.

Gwyn didn't say anything. She didn't even move to acknowledge her sister any more than just moving her hands over the table as she often did. Content as her body heat warmed the metal more and more with each complete circle she made Gwyn just watched her sister. Bri's eyes followed the movement once, twice, three times before her own hands shot out.

Her grip was tight as she held on to her sister's hand. If circumstances were different Gwyn would have jumped forward, licked her sister's hand, or shouted at her for her vice-like grip until they were bickering loud enough for their mother or father to shout at them to stop acting like children, which would only incite pouting in the two definitely childish women. This time she just watched Bri grit her teeth.

"Stop it, Gwyn." She hissed. "You need to start taking this seriously. No more silence treatment, no more hiding stuff, and for Merlin's sake no more of the fucking hand thing."

"When has telling me to stop doing it ever worked?" The words had escaped her before Gwyn could even stop them. Her voice was quiet, cracking halfway through. Since arriving at the interrogation room she hadn't drunk that much. She didn't trust there to not be veritaserum in the contents of the water they provided despite the logical part of herself that told her that it was illegal for them to use it on her without her knowledge, so she only took small tentative sips whenever she really needed. Now would be one of those moments, her throat so dry and scratchy that it was almost painful to talk.

Bri quickly let her hands fall to the table, watching carefully as Gwyn placed them in her lap, tangling them in her dirty t-shirt. "So, you're throwing away Bampi's legacy," She crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're not even going to tell me why?"

Gwyn swallowed thickly. There it was, the anxiety creeping up her spine. It was a dirty play, bringing up their grandfather and Bri knew it. Gwyn could see her forcing away a victorious grin at Gwyn's chagrin.

"I wrote Uncle Garrett back into the shop lease," Gwyn said the words tenser than she wanted. She shook her hands in her lap. "He'll be good enough until I find someone with an actual talent take over for him. Even if it does fall out of the family."

"Good enough?" Bri offered. Gwyn nodded. "When has good enough ever been good enough for you, Gwyn? You love that shop."

"Yeah, I do. And the shop is also part of the reason I'm here so I wrote myself out of the will so nothing happens to it." Gwyn snapped and glared at her sister. "A-and we were talking about moving out of there anyway." It hurt, thinking about the shop. It made her chest heavy, each breath burning as it escaped. She had tried not to think about the shop or her grandfather in the time she had been in the interrogation room. She couldn't bear to think about how she let him down, about how his dream was going to be destroyed because of her own foolish mistakes. She couldn't care to think of the pain she was going to cause her family and her friends, how people would see them based on her decisions.

And she couldn't bear to think about him.

Gwyn already knew he was going to be the next tactic of manipulation from Briallen's mouth so she shook her head quickly. "He has nothing to do with this. I swear on Mam and Dad's life, Bri."

"If you don't tell me everything they are going to ask him to either give you up or bring him in to get you to talk."

"He doesn't know anything. How do they even know about him?"

"I had to tell them he was your roommate, Gwyn." Was all Bri said. Gwyn felt her jaw drop, but Bri didn't seem to care. She simply raised an eyebrow and said, "He's willing to give us information."

Gwyn was sure she felt her chest collapse in on itself. He couldn't have said anything to them, he wouldn't have. They would have told her before, right?

Gwyn shook her head again, hands dragging against the rough material of her trousers. "Bullshit. He hasn't been questioned because he doesn't know anything. There is no reason to ask him."

"No, he hasn't been interrogated yet," Bri admitted. "But he's willing to fully cooperate if he gets to come to see you." There was a long silence, a thick and uncomfortable. Bri's fingers tightened on her elbows as she leaned forward slightly. "If he admits to anything he's going to have it hard, Gwyn. Think about who his father is." Almost as soon as Bri whispered the word 'father' there was a knock against one of the walls. Bri nodded slightly and sat back in her chair, clearing her throat.

"If you don't cooperate and tell us what happened then they are going to send him in here to get you to talk." Her words were louder now, even if just for effect. "I've been given orders by Auror Potter to bring him within the next two days, tomorrow if you're still refusing food. If you still won't cooperate then we will use veritaserum on you, Gwyn."

"He can't see me like this," Gwyn said quietly, moving her tied hands to gesture towards her face. If it was anywhere close to as bruised as she imagined then he couldn't see her. Not a chance. "He'll say things that he doesn't mean, things that aren't true."

"He won't give you up, Gwyn," Bri said flatly. "We all know that. He loves you and he will take the fall for this if given the chance." She leaned forward in her chair. She knew she was winning; she'd do the exact same thing whenever she was beating Gwyn at wizards chess. The only difference between the two actions was that there was no pleasure in her face now. She looked sad at the mention of him, sadder than she did when she first saw her sister.

Gwyn pressed her lips together. "I won't let him get himself involved because he sees me bruised and bloodied. I-I can't do that to him. Not because I fucked up."

"Then talk to me." Bri pleaded. "I've seen you fuck up more times than I could count."

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Bri," Gwyn said quietly, staring down at the dried blood in her nails. "I know how bad everything sounds, but I swear I didn't mean for it to happen. I know I should have stopped or told you or something, but everything spiraled out of control and then James found me freaking out and we were going to get help but that man was there and was threatening James and you and I had to do something so-so-"

"So you killed Avis Hatch."

Gwyn could only nod in agreement.