Title: Broken

Author: Medie

Fandom: Alias/Harry Potter

Pairing: none

Rating: PG-13

Summary: she's lost who she was.

Archive: My site, my journal and musesfool's Psalm challenge site. All others, please ask.

Email: Medie2.0 Page: http/medie. Lauren Reed does not belong to me. The concepts of Alias and Harry potter are not mine. Lolly, Morry and Tibby...they do though I understand Ms. Hermione Grainger is attempting to give them clothes. grin

Spoilers: For HP? None. For Alias? Vague ones for the season finale

"Broken"

By M.

Apparating into her London home, Lauren Reed let the world of Muggles fall away from her. Sloughing free of herself as one would shed a cloak. It felt as though a weight had been lifted free but yet still one remained. She had still plenty to bear and she couldn't rid herself of it. Not yet.

With distaste, she eyed the blood-soaked clothing she wore. Souvenirs from her exit from the Muggle world. "Lolly."

The house elf appeared behind her with a worried expression, still wringing her tiny hands, which swiftly became horror at the sight of her beloved mistress' disheveled and blood-covered appearance. "Oh no! Mistress, what has they done to you!" She exclaimed, rushing forward to pat Lauren's leg reassuringly.

Summoning up a smile to placate her, Lauren looked down at the house elf. "Nothing I hadn't expected. Please, Lally, do be a dear and draw a bath for me? I'd like nothing more than a good long soak in the tub, wash away a few bad memories."

Lolly nodded quickly and vigorously, her ears flopping with the movement then hugged Lauren's legs tightly. "Welcome home, Mistress. Missed you I did."

With a genuine smile this time, one that touched her eyes, Lauren knelt to hug the elf who'd mothered her since infancy. "I missed you too, Lolly. So very much." Standing again, she watched her tiny guardian rush off to perform her task then reached into her coat to where her wand was secreted. Bringing it out, she tapped it against her ruined coat and murmured, "Reparo," Instantly mending the bullet holes before saying, "Scourgify," to clean away the blood.

Thus accomplished, she set the wand on the fireplace mantle and removed the jacket, dropping it on a chair. She then headed to her bed chamber where Mortimer, her owl, hooted a greeting from his perch by her desk. As she passed him, Lauren smiled and reached out to ruffle his feathers in greeting.

In the bathroom, she could hear Lolly rustling about readying the bath and bossing the other two house elves, Morry and Tibby, about in the process. It was a familiar babble she'd missed. Shedding her clothing, she replaced it with a favorite robe and sat at her desk to face the pile of letters and mail which had accumulated since the last time she had been able to steal away for a few hours.

The first one her hand landed on bore the Hogwarts insignia and she took her time reading it. Written by Professor McGonagall, the simple realization of where, and who, it had come from brought tears to Lauren's eyes. In the letter, McGonagall made mention of the assignment the Ministry of Magic had dispatched her on to the Muggle world, inquiring if Lauren would be willing to speak to the students about life among the Muggles. It would certainly be a most educational experience for them. The crisply worded request brought a bitter laugh. If the Professor only knew what that assignment had forced her to do. What she'd become in the process.

'There's not a witch nor wizard who ever went bad that wasn't in Slytherin...'

It was an old adage that, in some form or another, managed to be spoken more than one at many a Hogwarts sorting ceremony. One Lauren had heard many times, been haunted by since the ceremony where she herself had been sorted into the House. She, the daughter of a fine and noble wizarding family had so very desperately wished to be sorted into anything but Slytherin but knowing just the same that there was no other house she could be sorted into. There was no denying her genetics, it seemed. The Reeds, the true Reeds, had been Slytherins for centuries. It was, quite literally, in her blood.

She'd tried so very hard to shed it. To prove the whispered condemnations wrong. For a time, at least while she was at Hogwarts, she'd succeeded. Even joining the Aurors upon completing her education at Hogwarts where she'd so flourished. She'd liked her life as an Auror. While her parents had hardly been pleased...they had grudgingly admitted she thrived there. She'd been so excited when she, after her years of service, had been selected for the Rambaldi assignment. Infiltrating the Muggle world, via a web of intricately cast spells which had created her cover for her, to ascertain the status of the Muggles search for his many secrets and inventions. Many of which had blended the world of magic with Muggle science. It had been an honor to be selected and she'd been so very excited. Had been.

That excitement had long since dissipated. Swallowed by the cold, ruthless reality of the life she'd been forced to lead. Cut off from the world she'd known and, for the most part, loved with little support. The Muggles world was a harsh and unforgiving pace, devoid of the magic that Lauren so loved to lose herself in.

Instead of losing herself in her magic, Lauren had lost herself.

Bringing the letter to her face, she inhaled the scent of it, evoking memories of her time at the school. She could imagine McGonagall penning it at her desk after, of course, discussing the idea at length with the headmaster. Oh that classroom had been one Lauren so loved. A bit of a disaster at Charms, at least in the beginning, Lauren had excelled in Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts and, oddly enough, Potions. She adored figuring out the ins and outs of magic and, even with the spectre of Slytherin and her family hanging over her head, she'd loved it there. Loved who she was.

Now she didn't know who she was. She was lost.

Lauren Reed, witch, Auror in service of the Ministry of Magic, loyal to Dumbledore and her mentors at Hogwarts was but a shadow. Obscured by the illusions that was Lauren Reed, wife of Michael Vaughn, traitor and Covenant spy. Double agent to the last.

But an agent of who?

There was no answer. Answers were things Lauren had long since lost. She had no idea who she was anymore. The illusion had become the reality and the reality the illusion and it was so hard and she was so tired and none of it made any bloody sense and she just wanted it to all stop!

Throwing the letter down on the desk, she became aware of the fact Lolly, Morry and Tibby all watching her with worried expressions and that she was weeping. Great fat tears rolling down her cheeks, dropping onto her robe.

"Mistress?" Morry, a tiny little thing compared to most House Elves, stepped forward to touch her knee. "Come on, you feel better after a bath. Morry and Tibby, we make you something nice to eat. Have some chocolate too. You'll be right as rain soon enough."

Feeling a bit like the little girl she'd been and less like the woman she'd become, Lauren allowed the House Elves to lead her to the bathroom. The mothering of the two female House Elves, and the sight of poor Tibby struggling to carry her robe back to the bedroom without tripping over it - and failing miserably as he ended up tangled in the midst of it on the bathroom floor - lightened Lauren's spirits. If only by a little and, by the time she was settled in the scented water, Morry arranging her long locks atop her head and securing them, she felt halfway like herself again.

But still very, very lost. She suspected it would be a long time before she found her way home. Somewhere out there, in the world of Muggles, Sydney Bristow and her compatriots were no doubt celebrating her death. The proverbial dancing upon her grave and Lauren bitterly wished them well at it. The worst sort of Muggles really with absolutely no respect for the power they were dealing with and the dangers they were courting. She'd attempted to protect them from it, played a role given to her by the Ministry, and the result had been the possible forfeit of her very identity, perhaps her soul. They really hadn't a clue of what they were doing, how far they were falling themselves. She supposed she owed Michael a thank you for removing her from it before they sucked her down with them. Rendering evil for good was still nevertheless evil and for as much as they thought themselves the heroes, Lauren could see very little that was heroic about them.

Let them unleash Rambaldi and all his chaos. See how they enjoyed having their very own He Who Must Not Be Named. Their own Dark Lord. She snorted to herself, watching the bubbles decorating the surface of her bath water scatter with the expulsion of air. She had tried to help, even if it was a help they had not recognized, and she was paying the price for her sins and theirs.

She closed her eyes, pushing the thoughts from her mind. Their problems were their own now. Hers were hers. And chief among hers...

Was finding herself...the Lauren who she'd been.

The tears came again and she cursed them, bitterly hating the weakness in herself, hating the Muggles that had caused those tears and hating the fools at the Ministry who'd given her the assignment.

Professor McGonagall's letter came to mind, bringing with it the memories of Hogwarts, and Lauren resolved that if she was to regain what she'd lost then it was the best place to start.

As the Muggles were fond of saying, who says you can't go home again?

Finis

Pss.38

1 O LORD, rebuke me not in thy wrath: neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.
2 For thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore.
3 There is no soundness in my flesh because of thine anger; neither is there any rest in my bones because of my sin.
4 For mine iniquities are gone over mine head: as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me.
5 My wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolishness.
6 I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.
7 For my loins are filled with a loathsome disease: and there is no soundness in my flesh.
8 I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
9 Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee.
10 My heart panteth, my strength faileth me: as for the light of mine eyes, it also is gone from me.
11 My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore; and my kinsmen stand afar off.
12 They also that seek after my life lay snares for me: and they that seek my hurt speak mischievous things, and imagine deceits all the day long.
13 But I, as a deaf man, heard not; and I was as a dumb man that openeth not his mouth.
14 Thus I was as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs.
15 For in thee, O LORD, do I hope: thou wilt hear, O Lord my God.
16 For I said, Hear me, lest otherwise they should rejoice over me: when my foot slippeth, they magnify themselves against me.
17 For I am ready to halt, and my sorrow is continually before me.
18 For I will declare mine iniquity; I will be sorry for my sin.
19 But mine enemies are lively, and they are strong: and they that hate me wrongfully are multiplied.
20 They also that render evil for good are mine adversaries; because I follow the thing that good is.
21 Forsake me not, O LORD: O my God, be not far from me.
22 Make haste to help me, O Lord my salvation.