Marlene's mouth burned with the taste of Firewhiskey as she flung her shot glass down against the counter of the bar. Emmeline, Alice, and Lily occupied the stools on either side of her, each doing the same with their own glasses.

"Another," Emmeline insisted.

"That was the third one!" Lily protested, her green eyes practically bulging from her head.

"And this will be the fourth," Emmeline grinned, motioning the bartender towards them.

Marlene felt like she'd been up for hours. It was only two in the morning but the three girls had already done more with their night than most of the other patrons in the bar. They'd ended up on a Death Eater chase. What had started as a simple scope out had turned into Lily, Marlene, Emmeline and Alice chasing a group of Death Eaters from their meeting place like a horde of rats.

Marlene had gained herself a set of bruised ribs and a gash above her right eye she was sure she'd regret in the morning. She wouldn't regret the way it felt crashing forward into the Death Eater twice her size who had started out their interaction by calling her a filthy blood traitor. She'd pinned him down and used her wand to bind his ankles and his hands behind his back.

Lily and Emmeline had teamed up on a group of three that had run together, Lily being hit by a mean curse that had sent her tripping forward, giving her a busted lip and a bruise along her cheekbone.

Despite the injuries sustained the girls had still come out victorious – Alice leading the way to the Ministry to lock up the Death Eaters until the Auror team dealt with them in the morning. Drinks had been suggested soon after that.

"So, Lily, what does it feel like to be an almost married woman?" Emmeline asked. Her eyebrows arched with curiosity.

"Oh, right!" Marlene clapped her hands with excitement. "A month and a half away…"

"And our blushing bride still hasn't got her dress…"

"I've been trying!" Lily squealed defensively.

The bartender returned with a new round of shots. Marlene, already too buzzed to make good decisions, reached out for her last round, the four girls clinking glasses.

"To fresh starts, good friends, and no drama!" Emmeline cheered.

"Amen," Alice nodded, throwing back her drink. Her lips pursed as though she'd just chugged back a glass of lemon juice.

"You know what I really want to do after kicking some Death Eater ass?" Lily asked drunkenly.

"Egg Voldemort's house!" Marlene cried back eagerly. The other three girls stared at her sceptically.

"I mean, yes, always," Lily shrugged, "but more presently, I'd really love to fucking dance."

"YES!" Emmeline cried out like her body might combust if she didn't start moving her hips right then. "I'll cover the tab, you girls get your asses in gear, we're going to Distress."

"Ohh, this cannot be a Distress kind of night for me," Marlene complained.

Distress was a club in downtown London that the girls frequently hit up when they'd realised as teenagers they could use a little magic to alter the ages on their IDs. Marlene had made many mistakes in the four walls of that dance club.

"Did you just hear this girl? She is paying our tab," Alice gave Marlene a little shove. "We are going."

There was little arguing with that.


Peter had been sleeping quite comfortably when he was woken up by an impatient knocking at his window. His brain couldn't quite wrap around the idea in his sleepy haze and so he lay there for quite some time before finally standing up.

When he looked out beyond his curtains he saw Aldora's dark frame, arms crossed, looking rather angry – like it was Peter's fault he had been asleep.

"Hey," he greeted her groggily, pulling open the window. "Whatcha doing—"

"We have an issue," Aldora huffed. Without an invitation, she hiked herself up and came tumbling inside.

"You haven't come by in nearly two weeks…I was worried." Peter had begun to think that his girlfriend had tired of him. The pair of them had been together nearly a year. His parents loved her. He couldn't imagine the humiliation of having to admit to everyone that he couldn't even hold down a girl for a year.

"We need you to start stepping up," Aldora explained, sighing heavily as she sat down on the edge of Peter's bed.

"Stepping up?" he asked. Peter gulped anxiously, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "What do you…"

"You're going to start to let us know who is being sent out on these missions that Dumbledore and Moody have your gang going on."

"They usually don't tell us all…" Peter told her, his eyes facing the ground. He'd already been filling Aldora in on their discussions during meetings and he felt bad enough just doing that.

After seeing the state of Marlene when she'd returned from Paris he'd tried his best to avoid giving away anything too crucial. He couldn't get the image of her battered body from his mind. The fact that she'd been so close to death. Marlene McKinnon. If there was anyone Peter could think of that could do no wrong it was Marlene.

"Well, ask," Aldora pressed him. "Figure out when each of your friends is out on missions and then tell us. Then we can be prepared."

"I don't know…" Peter fretted. He didn't have the strength to say what he really wanted to, to stare her in the eyes and tell her no. It didn't matter how much he loved her or how badly he wanted them to work, he couldn't betray his friends any longer. That he felt sick each time he looked them in the eyes and realised he was fooling them.

"Come on, Peter," Aldora urged him. She raised from the edge of his bed, coming over, placing her hands against his chest.

"I'm tired," Peter admitted, swallowing back tears. "You never come around here unless you need something…"

"I know," Aldora nodded, her eyes falling guiltily. "I'm sorry for that."

"Now you want you to put my life and the lives of my friends on the line…"

"Hey." She wrapped her arms around him. Aldora pressed the side of her face into his chest, Peter's arms finding their way around her. "I'm sorry," she whispered to him. "I know it isn't easy."

"Please don't make me do it anymore," Peter begged her, his voice verging on the edge of tears. "Let's just go back to the way it was. Before all of this sneaking around…"

"We can't, Petey," she told him sadly. Aldora raised her head, looking Peter in the eyes. "You know we can't. We need to follow this through. We need to make sure that we succeed."

"I don't even know what we're fighting for anymore." Peter turned from her, arms crossed. He didn't want to be stuck in the middle of this anymore, frozen, unable to move without losing something.

"We're fighting for our world," Aldora pressed, coming up behind him. "We're fighting for what we built, what people who don't belong here are now taking advantage of."

"My friends are muggle born!" Peter stressed, his voice growing shrill.

"We don't want to see any bloodshed," Aldora reminded him, her hands grasping his shoulders delicately. "If the muggle borns grow to see the truth, that they do not belong here, no one needs to be hurt."

The more she spoke the more nauseous Peter felt about the fact that he'd gotten mixed up in it all.

"Just…let me think about it, okay? Let me figure out what to do." What he wanted to do was run, as far as he could, and never look back.

"Okay…" Aldora agreed hesitantly. "Do you mind if I stay?"

"The night?"

"Yeah…" She wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling him in tight to her. "I miss you…" Her hands trailed up beneath his t-shirt, sliding along his chest. "Come find me, Peter…"

When he turned around Aldora was trailing back towards his bed, stripping her sweater off over her head.


Sirius was certain he must've been dreaming when the sound of a knock echoed through his apartment at four in the morning. Of course, he wasn't. He stumbled out of bed, bleary eyed and half awake, to find Marlene McKinnon standing on the other side of his door.

"Most people consider this an unusual time to drop by," he informed her.

"Too drunk for home," she grumbled, tripping her way inside. Sirius caught her as she nearly fell through the doorway, Marlene yelping with pain as his hands grasped the area near her ribs.

"How bad was it?" he asked. His tone grew serious as she rubbed at the sensitive area.

Marlene gave him an apprehensive look, slowly raising up her top to reveal a large purple bruise over her ribs.

Sirius frowned, moving forward to find a gash above her eye. He hated the way it felt when she went out on a mission for the night. The fact that he didn't sleep quite as well. He hated that while he should've been annoyed about being woken up he was relieved to see her walking in his door, safe and sound.

"I'm okay," she promised him. "Alcohol cures all ills."

"That's not what you'll be saying tomorrow morning."

Sirius took her by the hand, leading her back towards the bedroom. Marlene had spent most of her nights there since getting home as she was still searching for a flat of her own. They didn't make a big fuss about it. Sirius liked it that way.

Marlene stripped down, pulling Sirius' old Quidditch jersey over her head to sleep in. He was already under the covers when she crawled in, curling herself right up against him, her fingers and toes cold from her journey outside. Sirius wrapped his arm around her, keeping her close.

"You need to be more careful," he warned her. "You're still recovering from your last injuries…"

"The Healer told me I was fine—"

"Fine to get back to daily life, I don't know if he realised that included dangerous encounters with Death Eaters trying to kill you."

"You get beat up all the time—"

"I'm also bigger than you."

Marlene pulled away from him, rolling over so they lay face to face. She grimaced in his direction. "So what, because I'm a girl you think I can't take as much?"

"All I'm saying is that—"

"I'm one of the best fighters we've got and we took out an entire group of Death Eaters tonight."

"I'm just telling you to be careful," Sirius sighed. He was too tired to get in some stupid fight with her. It was impossible to question the strength of Marlene McKinnon, there seemed endless streams of it.

"Don't be so condescending about it," she complained. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I couldn't kick your ass any day of the week."

"Is that a challenge?" Sirius teased her. Before he could get another word out she'd swung herself on top of him, her blonde hair dangling down in his face. She pinned his hands down against the mattress, Sirius smirking.

"It's four in the morning."

"So, you surrender then?"

Sirius gripped her by the hips, rolling over on top. Her blue eyes glistened with amusement.

"How much did you have to drink?" he asked, stroking back some of her hair.

"More than I'd like to think about."

Marlene kissed him roughly, her fingers curled around the backs of his ears. She pulled him in close, legs wrapped around his hips.

Sirius pushed into her, the pair of them going at it as though they hadn't touched in years. Sometimes it felt that way. To finally be able to be together again the way they once had been. To not have to play it off as a drunken mistake or a one night stand. To be able to stare down into Marlene's eyes and know that they could stay like this as long as they wanted.

Marlene moaned with pleasure, letting herself go. No longer any friends or teachers around to catch them in the act. She cried out so loud Sirius thought that people down in the street might hear. He didn't care, though. It felt good.

It felt good as he collapsed down on the bed beside her, panting, and she rolled back on top of him, her lips travelling farther and farther down his chest until she had Sirius moaning just as she had moments ago.

When she'd come back up, lying down on the pillow beside him, eyes closed delicately, he whispered to her, his heart doing more talking than his mind.

"Move in."

"Nu-uh."

"Why not?"

"I'll remember in the morning."


Mary was freezing her ass off and yet she still couldn't seem to get herself to move. She stared up at the big brown house she'd spent the past ten years of her life in, her stomach twisting with distress.

"You okay?" Reg asked. He reached out a gloved hand, wrapping it around Mary's.

"This is a bad idea," she decided. "A horrible idea, to be exact—"

"You need to visit sometime," he reminded her, pulling Mary back from running away.

"I don't," she shook her head. "I promised myself I wouldn't." That much was true. Mary hadn't planned on upholding any relationship with her mother. Not with how things had ended between them. Somehow she'd ended right back in front of her godforsaken home anyhow, more for the sake of her brother Patrick than anyone.

"Come on," Reg urged her forward. Slowly, they moved up the front path towards the door. Mary let her boyfriend do the knocking as her hands were shaking too much to pull out of her pockets.

Rose yanked the door open, an apron around her waist and hair up in a perfect twist. Mary stared at her silently, too stubborn to be the first to speak.

"Hullo," he mother greeted them cordially. She stepped aside, letting them inside out of the cold. Mary felt ready to leave the moment she'd walked in the front door. She looked behind her shoulder, prepared to make a run for it until she saw a tiny girl come running from the living room.

"MARY! MARY!" Clara, who'd barely been able to walk the last time Mary had seen her, threw herself into her half-sister's arms with joy.

Mary scooped her up, resting her on her hip as Teagan came from the living room quickly thereafter, grinning widely.

"Where have your front teeth gone?" Mary gawked. She couldn't believe how much had changed. A year, one which had passed so quickly for her had been filled with moments and memories she was not present for.

"The tooth fairy took them," Teagan announced proudly.

"She got quite a good price for them as well, I might add," Rose smirked, watching the whole interaction from the side. She turned to stare at the lanky red-haired boy beside Mary. "So, you're Reg, I assume?"

"Yes," he smiled, sticking his hand out for her to shake.

"I'm Rose. It's very nice to meet you."

"Are you Mary's boyfriend?" Teagan asked in a sing-song tone from below.

Mary and Reg stared at one another, chuckling.

"I like to think so."

"Why don't you two come into the living room? Dinner won't be long now…."

Rose guided them towards her well-furnished sitting room. Bobby was waiting inside, settled into his velvet armchair with a newspaper blocking his face.

"Bobby," Rose spoke sternly. "Come on, they're here. Say hello."

Bobby made sure to take his time folding up the paper and placing it down on the table beside him, Mary glaring at him all the while.

"Hello Mary," Bobby spoke cordially.

"Hi, Bobby."

"Why don't you get these two a drink?" Rose suggested, her eyes shifting towards Bobby's mini bar in the corner.

"Mary! Mary!" Teagan tugged on the end of Mary's skirt. "You have to see my dance before you leave. I've been getting really good at dancing."

"Of course," Mary agreed, giving her little sister a squeeze.

"Don't brag, Teagan," Bobby snapped, shutting the girl right up. "It's not attractive."

Mary stared at him in horror, Teagan bowing her head and her smile was long gone.

"I can't wait to see your dance, Tea," Mary encouraged her sister. "I'm sure it's just as wonderful as you say."

Bobby scoffed, lifting himself out of the armchair and stumbling towards the bar in the corner, the one he had emptied out by the end of each week. Mary and Reg sat down side by side, their hands clasped in the space between them. Teagan - clearly terrified of her father - went scrambling from the room for the kitchen.

"Where's Patrick?" Mary asked. He was the whole reason she'd come. The person she was most excited to see.

"Working, I think it was," Bobby grumbled, tossing ice cubes into cups. "He said he'd try and make it home in time."

Mary frowned. It didn't seem like her little brother not to be at the door waiting for her arrival. She hadn't seen him in a few months but Patrick was always happy to see her, in fact, weeks prior when she'd made the dinner plans he'd promised to be by her side the whole time- distracting her from the train wreck that was her mother and stepfather.

"Whisky?" Bobby asked, distracting Mary.

"I'll have a G and T," she replied, not bothering to stare back at the grimace she was certain rested on his face.

"Whisky is fine with me," Reg nodded.

When Bobby returned with their drinks he settled down into his armchair, facing the pair of them like he was about to begin a psychoanalysis. He looked them over, Mary waiting for him to say something that would cause her skin to crawl with anger.

"So, how'd you two meet?" Bobby finally asked.

"School," Reg answered for the both of them. "We had classes together."

"Mary never mentioned a boy—"

"Well, we didn't start dating until after I was kicked out," Mary informed her stepfather curtly. Bobby glared at her.

"Oh right, after that little show you put on." Bobby took a gulp from his glass, sneering in Mary's direction. She knew he was just loving it. Getting to sit there in his position of power, looking down on her.

"She ever tell you about that evening, Reg?"

"Stop it," Mary warned him, ready to pull out her wand and hit him with a good hex.

"This one's a piece of work if I've ever seen one. Are you quite sure what you've signed yourself up for?"

"You're a real wanker, you know that?" Mary spat at him. She couldn't believe she'd been naive enough to think she could get through one civilised evening at her mother's.

"You will not speak to me like that in my house," Bobby pointed a finger at her in warning. "You should remember you're only a guest here."

"Like you'd ever let me forget," Mary rolled her eyes.

"See what I mean?" Bobby asked. He spoke just to Reg now. "The tongue on this one…"

"How much have you had to drink today, Bobby?" There Mary went with her famous tongue.

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, I think it is. Especially when you've got my brother and two little sisters living under your roof. What is this then? Your fifth?"

"Mary, stop," Reg pleaded. She could tell her felt uncomfortable. She'd promised him it wouldn't be a pleasant evening. She might have stopped right there - if just for the look in his eyes - but she didn't get a chance.

"Dinner will be ready in five—" Rose began to announce, pausing upon entering the room. The tension radiated from Mary and Bobby, stopping anyone around them dead in their tracks.

"What's going on here?"

"Where's Patrick?" Mary asked once more.

"He wasn't feeling well, he—" her mother stopped speaking the moment she caught the deadly look in Bobby's eyes.

"I told you already," Bobby growled, like a wolf going in for its prey, "he's out with friends."

"I want to see his room," Mary demanded, getting to her feet. She felt nauseous just thinking about what they'd done to her brother. What on earth would cause the pair of them to lie like that?

"Oh Mary, can't we just have a nice dinner? I made your favourite—" Mary ignored her mother's pleas turning for the staircase.

"Hey!" Bobby hollered after her. "What do you think you're doing—"

Mary heard him clamber to his feet but he had stopped abruptly. When she turned around she found Reg with his wand pointed at Bobby's broad chest. He looked like a child in front of her stepfather but he didn't flinch a muscle.

"Move another step and I will have your arms bound behind your back before you can blink," Reg threatened him.

Mary might have made notice of her approval if she wasn't already halfway up the stairs, making a beeline for her baby brother's bedroom. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached it, afraid of what she'd find behind the door. Afraid of the guilt she'd feel when she saw him. How could she leave him here all alone? How could she let Bobby and her mother have him?

"Patrick?" Mary asked. Her heart in her throat as she knocked on the bedroom door, fiddling with the handle.

"Mary? Mary, is that you?"

The door swung open abruptly, Patrick throwing his lanky frame into her arms before she could even look him in the eyes.

"What're you doing up here? Why aren't you downstairs?" Mary breathed a sigh of relief.

"They wouldn't let me come down," her brother explained. He pulled away from their embrace, Mary gasping.

His left eye was a wild shade of purple, his eyelid barely able to open.

"Did he do this to you?" Mary demanded in a fury.

"I egged him on…"

"Pack your bags."

"Mary—"

"Pack your bags right now, Patrick! Be downstairs in five minutes."

She didn't care how hard her brother tried to protest, she wouldn't let him spend another night in the godforsaken home she'd promised never to return to.

Mary stormed down the stairs her her mother waiting at the bottom, biting her nails anxiously.

"Mary wait," she insisted, placing her hands out to stop Mary from coming too close. The young girl was too angry to care. Too filled with rage and pain to notice the look of fear in her mother's eyes. "It was an accident! He didn't mean to, really! Sometimes…sometimes he just drinks too much."

"From one drunk to another, huh?" Mary announced cruelly her. "You'd rather hide Patrick from me than protect your own children?"

"It isn't like your father! It isn't anything like that—"

"You're pathetic," Mary seethed. She could barely look her mother in the eye. The woman who had brought her into the world, who was supposed to protect her from harm, had only ever hurt her.

"Patrick is leaving," Mary informed her. "He's moving in with me."

"No!" Rose shook her head in denial, growing hysterical right before Mary's eyes. "No, you can't take him!" It was the first time Mary had ever seen her mother in such distress. She reached out for Mary who stepped away, her expression vacant. She couldn't feel sorry for her mother. Not now. Not ever.

Bobby and Reg came out from the living room, the girls following in their wake. Mary looked down at their round faces, filled with such worry and fear. They couldn't understand what they'd been born into. They couldn't help it. She wanted to scoop them up in her arms and take them with her. She wanted to save everyone. She just couldn't do it.

"He's my son!" Her mother began to sob. "You can't take my son!"

"I'll call the police," Mary assured her. "I'll have your husband locked up before you can say another word and then what'll you do?"

Her mother let loose a hopeless sob, collapsing back into the wall behind her, her hand clutched over her mouth. As Patrick emerged from the second-floor landing he stared upon the scene cautiously, eyes travelling from Mary to their mum.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mary asked, staring at Patrick's bruised face. The anger from her voice had melted away. Now, as she turned back to face her mother all she had to offer was her own torment.

"It was a mistake," Rose repeated. "He just had a bad day…"

"You're supposed to protect us," Mary reminded her, choking back tears. "You're supposed to be a parent."

"I've done the best I can," Rose protested. "Your father—"

"You made that choice," Mary interjected. "Not us. And Teagan and Clara, they didn't choose him," she pointed towards Bobby, "you did."

Her mother looked so helpless, recoiled into the corner. Her face red and blotchy from the tears. Mary felt like a mother scolding her child as she looked down at her. She couldn't feel angry or disappointed any longer. All she could feel staring into her mother's tear filled eyes was pity.

Mary stuck her arm out for Patrick's bag, slinging it over her own shoulder. "Let's go," she told him.

Reg stepped forward, opening the front door. Rose sobbed as Patrick passed her, not daring to look her in the eye. Mary paused when the two boys were out the door, turning to look at her mother once more.

"Make the right choice," she encouraged her. "Maybe it's too late for us but it isn't for them." She looked towards her two little sisters, both petrified by the scene, and then she left, hoping never to see her mother again.


James had been forced out of the house by his mother. She'd insisted that it was ridiculous that with a little under two months before the wedding James hadn't even purchased himself dress robes and sent him out of the house with the address of a tailor in Diagon Alley.

Of course, James couldn't go shopping alone and had forced the rest of the boys to come with, all four of them cramped together in the back room of a tailor's shop.

"I vote for the dark navy one," Peter insisted for the hundredth time. "Brings out your eyes."

"No," Remus sighed, seemingly exhausted with the endless line of robes he'd seen James try on. "It'll make you stand out next to Lily."

"Um, isn't he supposed to stand out on his wedding day?" Sirius countered.

"Yes, but not more than Lily."

"This is a joke," James exclaimed, heading back into his curtained off dressing room.

"Try the tuxedo on!" Sirius insisted. "That's the one I picked out."

"So, do you all know who your plus one's will be?" James asked midway through his change into the tux.

"Dora will probably come with me," Peter responded.

"Remus is bringing Dorcas, I assume?" James asked from behind the curtain.

"Well, I wouldn't have a girlfriend any longer if I brought someone else."

"Can you believe it? Remus, dating a girl four years older than him, who knew our boy had it in him?" Sirius chimed. James heard the sound of him clapping their friend on the back as he yanked back the curtain to model the tux for his friends.

"What about that James Potter is marrying Lily Evans? I still think that's the biggest shocker of them all," Remus noted, grinning up at James.

"Oh, I think that's the one," Peter nodded from his spot on the couch.

"Agreed. I have the best fashion taste among all of you." Sirius leant back proudly, arms crossed against his chest.

"So, when do we find out that you've been feeding Lily Evans love potion the past year?" Remus teased James.

"Oh, shut it," the wizard scoffed from behind the curtain. He changed himself out of the tux and paid for it – with a healthy supply of money he'd received from his mother – before the four boys headed to the Leaky Cauldron up the street.

James felt rather successful having bought the robes he'd get married in. It seemed unreal that in a matter of a few months he'd have a wife, Lily Evans of all people. After all the years of hopeless yearning and the drama that had filled their relationship from the start, they'd finally get to be together. It didn't matter how young people said they were or how rash it seemed - they were in love.

The four boys slid into a booth near the back of the bar, nursing tall pints between them as they cracked jokes at one another. It was as though they were still just kids, crowded around the tables in the Great Hall sharing stories from their wild evenings.

"So Sirius," James began with an arch of his eyebrow. "Who is your plus one going to be?"

"Don't have one."

Remus scoffed, nearly spitting out a mouthful of beer. "Yeah, only because she's already got an invitation herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius shrugged, sipping at his beer while refusing to look any of them in the eye. He looked like a dog who'd just been yelled at for doing something wrong.

"Anyone else notice how Marlene has been wearing turtlenecks all week?" Peter teased.

"Oh boy…she's probably been fooling around with Calder Ashton…" Remus chimed in, watching Sirius closely as the colour in his neck rose. Calder was a rather good looking twenty-something-year-old who'd recently joined the Order and couldn't take his eyes off of Marlene. Everyone would watch as he'd try mercilessly to put the moves on her, Marlene barely taking notice.

"Calder's an airhead," Sirius complained, distracting himself with his drink.

"Well, I'd shag that airhead. He's fit as hell, all the girls think so." James rested his hands beneath his chin, staring up at the ceiling dreamily. "Oh Calder," he mocked. "Marry me!"

The rest of the boys laughed while Sirius simply glowered across the table, too prideful to admit what they all knew. He'd been hung up on Marlene since she'd returned home – and long before that too. They seemed to gravitate toward each other during each Order meeting and whenever the group went out for the evening they managed to always leave the bar five minutes apart.

"Seriously, though, Calder has been trying in vain for the past week to get her to notice he's interested," Peter laughed into his drink. "It's kind of sad."

"That's Marlene for you," James sighed. "Always got a healthy line of boys following her wherever she goes."

Sirius threw back the rest of his drink, having busied himself finishing it off while the rest of the boys went on teasing him.

James didn't need his friend to give him an answer, he already knew. It was clear as day that Sirius and Marlene were crazy about each other. Sirius didn't even bother to stare at the attractive women who made eyes at him from across the bar and James couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his friend try to flirt with a girl. Not to mention the fact that the most attractive member of the Order was positively besotted with Marlene and she hadn't taken the time to notice.

James grinned across the table at his friend. Oh, he knew both of them well and they were in much more trouble than either cared to admit.


Alice had her eyes closed and her hands rested delicately along the edges of the bathtub. She'd slipped in beneath the soapy, warm water just before midnight. Frank had been sent out on a mission with some of the other Aurors, something outside of the Order, and Alice could never sleep very well when he was gone.

She could feel herself just growing comfortable, everything from her neck below submerged, when something inside of her screamed that there was something wrong. It was as if the sirens of a fire truck had gone off in her mind and she jumped from the water, nearly slipping on the floor as she rushed for her robe which hung from the hook on the back of the door.

The house, which they'd owned for only a few months, now, had become a source of comfort for Alice. While she'd needed to pack up her childhood home into boxes and wave goodbye she'd found a new place. Somewhere that didn't fill her with nostalgia and remorse. A place for just her and Frank. It was home.

Alice opened the bathroom door gingerly, just stepping out into the bedroom when she heard an urgent pounding echo up the stairs from the front door. She jumped, her heart in her throat, and lunged across the room for her wand.

She kept it safely in front of her the whole journey downstairs and clutched it to her chest as she peered through the door's peephole. A group of her co-workers stood on the front step, a man's body slumped over in their arms.

"What the hell happened?" Alice demanded, throwing open the front door.

"They ambushed us!" Davey exclaimed, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

The two Aurors standing behind him stepped forward, hauling Frank in the front door. He was barely lucid, groaning in pain from between them.

"Someone must have tipped them off. They knew Alice they knew we were coming."

Alice couldn't focus on that, though. All she could keep her mind on was the sight of her husband, white with pain, blood dripping from his abdomen, soaking his shirt.

"Get him on the couch," she insisted, rushing forward into the living room.

"One of them hit him hard with a hex, makes it seem as though he's been stabbed," Elaine, one of the two holding Frank up explained.

"Why would you bring him here? Why aren't you at St. Mungo's—"

"Alice," Davey took her by the shoulders, staring her directly in the eyes. "Did you hear me? They knew. They knew we were coming."

"Maybe they were just prepared—"

"You don't understand," Flynn, who was lowering Frank down onto the couch, insisted. "I've never seen something like it. They knew Frank would there, at the least. They were after him from the start. He didn't have a chance."

Alice shook her head, her mind spinning. These things happened. Sometimes the missions went astray or they got outnumbered. She couldn't understand why they acted as though they were in hiding, why her husband was bleeding out on their couch like some kind of hidden prisoner.

"We couldn't take him there," Elaine informed her, a dark look in her eyes. "They would've been waiting. For all we know, they've got people working there for them. We can't trust it."

"You guys are mad! He needs help! He'll die if we don't get a Healer in here!"

Frank yelped with pain from the couch, furthering Alice's point. She rushed towards him, crouching down by his head. She brushed back his hair, his forehead coated in sweat despite the chill, which filled the room.

"I'm right here," Alice comforted him. "You're going to be okay baby, we're getting help."

"Al," Frank mumbled, his eyes squinting open. "Listen to them."

"You need to go to the hospital, Frank—"

"We can't. We can't go."

"Well, I'm not a bloody Healer!" Alice snapped her panic beginning to rise. She wasn't just going to sit and watch the man she loved wither in pain because they were afraid. She'd take him to the hospital and guard him with her life if that was what it took.

"We have a Healer," Elaine pressed, hands on her hips.

"Who?"

The three of them stared at Alice as though she were utterly oblivious, waiting for her to catch on. She shook her head, reality sinking in.

"No. Mary didn't want this. She is not a part of this—"

"She's the only one we can trust," Davey insisted. "I can go get her now. She can be here within the hour—"

"He needs a doctor! This is mad!"

"Go," Flynn instructed, turning to face Davey. Alice watched helplessly as he fled for the door.

Frank tried to move, crying out in agony. Alice had never felt so useless in her life. She leapt to her feet, looking at Flynn for further instruction. She had to do something.

"Towels," Flynn told her. "Lots of them."

And so it had begun - they were at war.