November 7th, 1981: Mary Cattermole

"Do you ever notice how Dumbledore never signs up for orb duty?" asks Mary.

She's sitting with Lily at Lily's kitchen table in Godric's Hollow, on account of Lily not being able to leave home. Frankly, Mary doesn't know how Lily hasn't lost her mind, gone out, and gotten herself killed by now. She and James have been locked in this house for, what, almost two years now? Or, at least, Lily hasn't left the house. Lily admitted to Mary a few weeks ago that James has been sneaking out a little, or at least that he had been until Dumbledore asked to borrow his Invisibility Cloak.

Baby Harry has never seen the world outside this cottage, and Mary can't even imagine how that must make Lily and James feel.

When she says "orb duty," she's talking about the method the Order apparently devised when Mary's cohort graduated from Hogwarts to help them track Death Eater activity. They've got a crystal ball that's been enchanted to reveal a bird's-eye view and coordinates for any location in Britain where a serious curse is cast, so that the Order knows where to Apparate to. They've been using the orb for a while, apparently, but it originally only worked with Unforgivables: they've only just modified it to also track Dark Marks and several other common and deadly curses.

"Well, he's a busy bloke, isn't he?" replies Lily, setting down her mug of tea. "Before you rejoined the Order, he was away running Hogwarts with McGonagall, and now, he's on a leave of absence doing—whatever it is he's doing to try to take down Voldemort. He's got places to be."

"But McGonagall has gone on raids," Mary presses, "even though she's teaching at Hogwarts, just like he used to. I know he's trying to track down You-Know-Who, and I know that's got to occupy a lot of time, but doesn't it seem selfish of him to put the danger of fighting Death Eaters onto everybody except himself?"

"What he's doing instead is probably perfectly dangerous. We may not always know what he's thinking, but that doesn't mean he's not doing good work here. Besides, the person with the plan shouldn't be in harm's way so that we don't lose the plan along with them if they get taken out."

But Lily looks like Mary's maybe started to convince her otherwise, trailing off and staring pensively into her tea. As far as Mary can tell, there are a lot of things about how the Order runs that people have just been blindly accepting without good reason, and not just Dumbledore not fighting on the front lines. It's Dumbledore not sharing that plan Lily mentioned with anybody else, so that everyone else is operating in the dark with no idea how much longer this might go on for. It's the history that Mary's been able to glean of Death Eaters playing with their food for years before abruptly starting to kill in the last few months, like they're getting bolder, like it's time for them to take out the competition so that they can enact whatever it is they're going to enact. It's nobody knowing You-Know-Who's endgame and nobody ever complaining about it…

"But listen, Mare, that's not why I asked you over here. There's something I wanted to ask your advice about."

Mary raises an eyebrow. "Sure. Hit me."

She seems to be Lily's replacement for Marlene ever since Marlene died, and she's not entirely in a position to complain about it: Lily has been Mary's replacement for Marlene for months now, ever since Lily ran for Minister and named Mary her campaign manager. It's not just that, though: it's that Lily and, for similar reasons, Sirius are the only others of Mary's friends who might be able to grasp just how Marlene's death is affecting Mary. When she's close to Lily, it doesn't fill the hole Marlene left behind, not even close—but it does make Mary feel like her grief is seen and shared.

Kind of. Marlene may have picked Lily, but Lily will never love Marlene the way Mary does. Did.

She feels like she's back in the fold now that she's back in the Order, and it's a weird feeling. It's kind of nice knowing that her old mates still like and respect her enough to loop her in on what's going on now that she has the clearance, so to speak, but it also kind of makes her feel like they only are bothering to keep her around because she made the decision to rejoin the organization. If Mary had stuck to her principles and stayed out of the war effort—

But she didn't, and now if somebody in the Order gets killed because she screws up on a raid, that's on her head. She wonders if wanting to protect other people from herself is noble or if she just wants the culpability to be on somebody else.

After Peter turned out to be a spy for the Death Eaters (which she still can't wrap her head around), she just—even if Mary does screw up now that she's back in, at least she has the right intentions. You know? If the Order is running short on people who can be trusted, at least Mary can be one more body working toward the safer future that Wizarding Britain desperately needs.

Besides, Mary sort of feels like—like losing Marlene was her punishment for quitting the Order all those years ago, like this is the universe's way of telling Mary that this is what she gets for taking the easy way out and leaving the responsibility for the war effort to people she cared about instead of taking it upon herself. She knows this isn't rational. Death Eaters made it their mission to ambush Marlene and her entire family—she wasn't in the field on a raid where Mary could have protected her—Death Eaters sought her out specifically to kill her. But she believes it, and she allows herself to believe it because, if it's true, it means there's some kind of reason that Marlene died, even if it's Mary's own fault: that there's a higher purpose at work.

Mary stopped believing in higher purposes when she disavowed the Catholicism pushed upon her by her father, who'd believed that witches were evil and Mary must be, too—but the idea that there's one at play here brings her comfort, if only a little. If she doesn't find some way to make sense out of losing Marlene, she'll crack up, and she can't afford to crack up.

"James and I are thinking of moving," Lily says now. "Out of Britain. Resetting the Fidelius Charm so that nobody outside of wherever we go knows where we are."

"Is that even possible?" says Mary. "I mean, in a technical sense? If the Fidelius Charm means that nobody can know your secret, and your secret is that you live in, you know, Spain or India or wherever, can you work the spell so that people in Spain or India can even interact with you? Because the way it's set right now, nobody can even see you in this cottage if Sirius hasn't told them that you're here."

"In theory, it will work—as long as we don't become public figures, I suppose, and as long as we stay within the confines that the charm holds within. If our secret is that we live in Spain or India, and we Apparate outside Spain or India for a moment, then the secret no longer holds, and we're no longer protected until we go back to wherever we're living. But I guess we'll find out for sure when we redo the charm—if we redo the charm. We can't tell anyone where we're going until after it's done, of course. If somebody found out outside of the charm, they'd be able to tell anybody they wanted, and after Peter, we just can't take that chance." There's a pause, and Mary is sure that Lily is thinking the same thing she's thinking. "I've never imagined myself ever leaving Britain before, but Harry needs to get out of this house. It's not healthy for him to grow up like this. And we can still keep in touch—you and everybody else can Apparate over to us whenever you'd like."

"But you won't be here to fight in the war. You'll have to stay out of the country."

"We already can't fight in the war while we're stuck in here. At least this way Harry gets to have something of a normal life."

Mary smiles. "It feels like you're going to be so far away, but that must be the Muggle in me talking. We have Apparition. I'll still be able to see you."

"You better," says Lily with a grin. "You've been out of my life for entirely too long already."

xx

It turns out that Lily, James, and Harry aren't the only ones leaving the country. When Mary Flooes home after tea, she finds Reg with Gilderoy in the living room, totally engrossed in conversation. "Mare!" Gilderoy exclaims, immediately jumping up to go clap her on the shoulder. "And how is my favorite Gryffindor this fine Saturday afternoon?"

"Hey, Gilderoy," says Mary, pulling him in for a quick hug. "I thought you weren't coming for lunch until next weekend."

"Plans change when you get your calling, my friend. I leave Britain in two weeks!"

"Wait, back up. You're moving away?"

"Traveling! To Turkey!" cries Gilderoy, beaming. "There's no time like the present."

Reg adds, "Especially when your roommate bails and sticks you with double the rent on your flat."

"So that's what this is about?" says Mary, a little amused. "You couldn't find anyone to take over Sirius's room? It's only been two weeks, Gil."

She makes a mental note to avoid talking directly to Sirius about this turn of events. It was Mary's idea for Sirius to live with Gilderoy after Lily, who'd previously been Sirius's roommate, married James and moved out two years ago, and Sirius has complained about Gilderoy pretty much every time Mary has seen him since. It's rankled Mary ever since that Sirius could have so much contempt for one of Mary's best friends—but it doesn't surprise her. Her friends from Gryffindor and those from Hufflepuff (her husband included) have only ever tolerated each other for her sake.

"It's just the excuse I need to live my dreams," says Gilderoy. "I never really felt I could live my full potential at Hogwarts, and I'm certainly not living it in the Ministry. I'm off to find myself, Mary! I'm off to make the world my oyster!"

"Well, good luck with it," Mary says, trying not to laugh.

She still hasn't quite figured out how she's going to juggle her Order duties with her marriage, particularly as she doesn't plan on letting Reg know that she's become one of the vigilantes that he so disapproves of. Mary has had orb duty twice so far in the two weeks that she's been back in the organization, and she claimed to be sleeping over at Lily's both times. This excuse went over the first time she used it, but the second time raised questions that she wasn't able to answer—literally—when Reg casually asked her where Lily and James had disappeared to in the last year or two.

She tried being vague about it—saying that they're taking time off work to spend time with the baby while living off of James's enormous fortune—because it's not like she could be specific, even if she had wanted to betray their trust like that, with the Fidelius Charm in place. Reg, though, hadn't seemed convinced that she was telling him the whole truth, especially as she tried to worm her way out of his suggestion that they have James and Lily over for supper later this month.

Reg raises the issue again after Gilderoy leaves, saying, "You're really jumping back into your Gryffindor days, aren't you? Are you sure that's—well—wise?"

"They're my friends," says Mary simply.

Reg looks at her like he's expecting that sentence to continue, but she doesn't know how else to justify herself to him. "Most of them have ignored you for years," he pushes in his not-quite-pushy, gentle way. "Lily only really seemed to care about you when you were running her campaign for Minister. And now they're suddenly having you for sleepovers and dinner dates and all of this? Something doesn't sit right about it, Mare, and you know I'm only saying that because I love you and I want what's best for you."

"I guess we want to be close with Marlene gone. They understand, you know." She hadn't wanted to play this card, especially given what Marlene meant to her—and that Reg doesn't know what Marlene meant to her—but she's not sure what else to say that would sound plausible.

How do people do this? How do Sturgis and Arabella and even Mundungus manage to convince the people they see the most that they're not off fighting in a war they're supposed to have nothing to do with? Mary's the only one of her friends from Gryffindor who has a spouse who's not in the loop, and it's just another thing making her feel like they can't understand her, whatever she says to Reg about it.

She has to make up another bald-faced lie to get away the next weekend for the next Order meeting, telling Reg that she's meeting Alice for dinner. She does, of course, see Alice there, but it's along with another dozen people, and they're not there to eat, at least not until after they take care of business. It's only been a few weeks since she saw everybody at the last one of these—less for those she's been on orb duty with and for some of the Gryffindors from her year—and the sudden inundation of people in her social circle is a little overwhelming. She nods kind of shyly at everyone who greets her and collapses into a seat next to Sirius in Alice and Frank's living room, where the meeting is being held.

It feels sick and wrong and awful to be meeting here without Marlene. Nobody is talking about her absence, but Mary feels it as acutely as if someone had taken a knife to Mary's flesh and carved Marlene out from inside of it. It doesn't matter that they hadn't really been close in years: Marlene was Mary's first best friend, and she's been lost all this time without her. At least before she always knew that Marlene was there—that there was a smidge of hope Mary could cling to that they'd find their way back to each other. Now…

"I don't think I had a chance to tell you welcome back before," Sirius tells her, "so—welcome back."

"Thanks. How's Hogwarts?"

"It's fine. The kids are little monsters. Everything they do is suddenly so much less funny now that I'm not in on it with them. Sucking up to Slughorn is a bore, but—"

He interrupts himself there, but the damage is done. "What are you sucking up to Slughorn for?"

"Nothing. I'm not. He just—uh—wants me to stay involved with his Slug Club, and I don't want to burn the bridge, just in case."

"In case of what?"

Sirius is rescued by Caradoc Dearborn coming over to hug Mary hello. They don't actually know each other all that well: when Mary and Marlene were best friends, Marlene always lived with her mum and stepdad, and the rest of the world didn't actually know that Doc was Marlene's real father. Marlene moved in with Doc the summer before sixth year and continued to live there after graduating from Hogwarts up until her death, but by that time, Mary didn't have much of a reason to come visit her. Doc knows Mary's history with his daughter, though, and he's always been kind to her.

Doc looks like a hollowed-out version of himself, face gaunt and eyes crinkled. "It's good to see you, Mare," he says, but he doesn't sound like it's good to see anything at all. "I'm glad you came back on board."

"Me, too," says Mary, even though she's not sure about any of this. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to talk much at the funeral. I know how important your—how important Marlene was to you."

Doc's lips twist up into a facsimile of a smile. "It's okay—you can call her my daughter, at least here. I told the Order when she passed. I couldn't take one more person telling me they're sorry for my loss without understanding that… I mean, she was my child. I didn't raise her, but I loved her. I loved her more than I ever have or will love anyone in this life. And it's not like she has a reputation to maintain anymore, so…"

"I think she would have been okay with you letting the secret out," says Mary, grabbing his hand and squeezing. "She loved you, too, you know. I know she absolutely loved those last few years living with you. I know it doesn't make up for lost time, but it meant so much to her." She only knows this secondhand, through what Lily told her when Mary was managing Lily's campaign, but she doesn't need to waste Doc's time explaining.

"It meant a lot to me, too," says Doc. "Obviously. I just… parents aren't supposed to lose their children. It's supposed to be the other way around."

"It's not fair."

"I hope she didn't have to watch the rest of her family die. I hope they killed her before she could see what would happen to them."

Mary's not sure if Marlene was the first or last to get the Killing Curse. From what Mary understands of Marlene's death, she was totally blindsided when she arrived at the McKinnon's house for her brother's birthday. Apparently, the Death Eaters didn't cast the Dark Mark or any other Unforgivable Curses until Marlene, who according to Sirius had been running late, arrived—and then Death Eaters murdered them all in one fell swoop, so that nobody from the Order would know ahead of time and barge in to interrupt them.

Mary knows this only because she's back in the Order: she wasn't allowed to know about the curse-identification orb before now. She suppresses the bitterness that flares up inside her at the thought—as if she, Mary, who knew Marlene like nobody did, didn't deserve closure when her grief was still raw.

When the meeting starts, she doesn't have much to report during her recruitment update. Her one piece of news is that she's got two potential new members almost swayed to the Order's side: Molly and Arthur Weasley. Neither wants to take a very active role on raids as they've got seven(!) young children at home, but especially after the loss of Molly's brothers, Fabian and Gideon, both are willing to help with outreach and information-gathering.

But Mary's update is interrupted by the late appearance of Alastor Moody. Even his non-magical eye looks wild as he Apparates into the room with a crack and storms up to McGonagall, whispering something in her ear. Mary falters mid-sentence as McGonagall's face immediately turns worried, McGonagall nodding and stepping back as Mad-Eye turns to face the room.

"I only just got word," he says, "that Millicent Bagnold is dead."

Gasps go around the room, including from Mary. Millicent Bagnold, of course, was the witch who beat out Lily for the Minister of Magic post last year. Mary's first thought is holy shit. Her second thought is that, if Lily had won, Lily could be dead right now instead—but then she reminds herself that Lily would have had to quit the job anyway once her family needed to go into hiding.

"What? How?" seems to be what most people are saying in the resulting uproar, but Mary hears Frank ask, "Who's taking her place?" as Doc says, "Why her? Why now?"

"Death Eater attack. Barty wants to keep it all hush-hush, of course," says Moody, rolling his good eye.

"Wha', Barty? Barty Crouch? Whass' 'e got to do with it?" Hagrid growls.

"He's the new Minister," Moody says disgustedly. "Interim. But I'll bet you anything he finds a way to make it stick."

She doesn't place the name at first, until she remembers back to staring at a newspaper in sixth year right around the time she and her friends joined forces with Dorcas. "Wait, Crouch? Didn't he authorize the use of Unforgivables against suspected Death Eaters?" says Mary, the name clicking.

"And he stopped giving trials to plenty of suspects captured in battle," snarls Sirius, "even after we knew that so many of them had been under the Imperius Curse."

"But how does this play into Voldemort's endgame?" Emmeline points out. "Even if Crouch is too reckless of a choice, how is him getting the job good for the Death Eaters?"

"It's not," says Moody, "unless they've got him under the Imperius Curse, or plan to—or unless they know how to get him focused on using his power to hunt the wrong people."

"Or," Remus points out, "unless they've got something over him that they can use to make him do what they want."

The whole group seems keen to stay on the topic of speculating about this turn of developments except, oddly, for Snape. (Mary is more than a little surprised that Snape is being allowed to attend full meetings now—she knows from Lily that at first they just let him give his report at the beginning of meetings and then leave for the duration.) "Our attention is better spent elsewhere. It does us no good to idly wonder why they're giving Crouch this power until we have more information," he says silkily.

"Yeah, you mean until you go get that information," says Sirius hotly. "You know, Snivellus, I don't give a damn how long you spy for our side; you're never going to be as essential as you think you are, you goddamn bigoted—"

"That's enough," says Remus, and Sirius goes silent instantly. "We're not going to get anywhere until we find out what they're really planning with this, and we're not going to find that out by sitting on our arses. Shouldn't we be using our Ministry connections to try to learn more? Alastor, Alice, Frank, Doc—?"

"We'll start there," agrees McGonagall. "I'll get in touch with Albus."

But Mary sincerely doubts that anything Dumbledore can contribute will be useful—or, at least, that its usefulness will be immediately apparent. If Dumbledore's been off in his own world without looping anybody into his suspicions all this time, why would he treat the matter of Crouch's ascension to the post of Minister any differently?