Author's Note:
This is a random story that popped into my head a few weeks ago. It doesn't have a beta so every mistake you see is my own and I apologize in advance.
That being said, this story is rated M for a reason. There are all kinds of situations that aren't for the easily hurt. It will take place between the years 1973 to 1982 ish, as of right now. As we all know, this is during the First Wizarding War. This story has themes of death (including major/minor character deaths), alcohol/drugs use/abuse, PTSD, foul language, sex, rape (I will never write it too graphic but it will be mentioned and I will put one warning in that chapter but no other chapter will have a warning, consider this one for the entire story), miscarriage, suicidal thoughts and/ or attempts, torture, violence, and any other possible terror that comes with a war. I won't be too graphic, but this story is an angsty drama with a side touch of romance during a scary time to be alive. Howeve, there will be humor and fluff. I promise to try and not make it too dramatic all the time.
This story is outlined to be around thirty one, possibly more, chapters, all being around 5 to 10 thousand words. I have big plans for this story, and am interested to see how yall like it and how it'll grow. Feel free to leave me your thoughts in a review!
"I'll Miss You Most of All."
The dark halls of the defense department weren't welcoming as of late. There used to be loud conversations of whose criminal committed the most outrageous crime, with bets being placed between all the levels of aurors. While not entirely all fun and games, the offices that housed MACUSA's finest were once boisterous and full of stimulating conversations about the latest going on with the witches and wizards of The United States of America. That is, until the past three years or so. Lately, the halls were full of hushed whispers, anxious bosses, and a sense of trepidation. While most of America wasn't feeling the effects of the strange disappearances, nor the rise in petty crimes and the brutal killings of the no-maj population, the employees at MACUSA were already suffering from the stress and burden of preparing for the inevitable. No one wanted a repeat of New York in December '26. Every auror department official had either lived through what happened or grew up hearing the horror stories of the nightmare that was Gellert Grindelwald.Across the pond they might had been naïve enough to fall under a false sense of security after the fall of Grindelwald almost thirty years ago, but President Piquery lived through it and barely maintained her position in office after the events of New York. Her promise and platform to her people was that she would never underestimate another threat ever again. Her policies on visas for international witches and wizards were strengthened, with many foreigners being denied access to the wizarding world of America if they didn't hold a correct visa or identification. The 'do not allow' list grew, with the zero-tolerance policy for criminal activities; anyone that had any crime above a class two weren't allowed access to the visa needed to travel. Many thought Piquery was too strict, that her polices were racist and she should allow asylum for the witches and wizards fleeing war ridden countries or trying to build a better life. She wasn't hailed as the kindest president in MACUSA history, but the numbers couldn't lie. Between all the first world wizarding governments, MACUSA's crime rates and repeat offenders were the lowest out of all the countries.
"Kowalski, I don't understand your hesitancy about it. There was an entire taskforce of people who put together this assignment, in charge of all the details and preparation, including picking the perfect candidate. You were recommended by more than seven high ranking government officials, including myself! Now that is the absolute last that I want to hear of it. It wasn't me who made the final decision, it was from all the way up the chain of command, Piquery herself made the final appointment." Head Auror Wilkins' voice was stern, demanding no further arguments. Her glare was piercing and wasn't one that could be ignored. Every auror and ministry official of MACUSA knew that when you received that glare, you reached the end of the line. The few who had crossed that line were fired faster than they could blink. Wilkins was the best of the best, there hadn't been a department head like her in decades. A no-nonsense witch in her mid-forties, she spent her entire life fighting an uphill battle against poverty, the patriarchy, and dark wizards. She was appointed Head Auror at twenty-seven, the youngest in at least a century.
Magdalena (Maggie) Kowalski bit the inside of her right cheek to avoid a retort. She was only an auror, after all. Having her badge for less than two years and already a thick auror file (not all accomplishments and stellar reports), she wasn't in the place to sass her boss, or the director of MACUSA. Wilkins raised a thin eyebrow, as if expecting a retort. This made Maggie bite her cheek hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled her mouth, and she took a slow breath in, stretching her diaphragm and counting to three before slowly releasing it.
Well, that's different. Usually she puts up more of a fight.
The voice in her head wasn't her own, but that of Wilkins. Maggie pushed the thought out, angry for slipping up. It usually didn't happen much when she was on the potion, but with the stress of the upcoming assignment, her recent breakup, her uncle unexpectedly sick and not improving…It was sufficient to say that she was going through more than usual.
Wilkins continued to eye Maggie, who subsequently broke the eye contact they shared to avoid hearing or feeling anything other than what was coming from her own mind, and then walked off after a minute. "I expect you to report here Monday morning, 0800 sharp or it'll be my hide and yours." The petite form of her superior officer clacked her heels down the hall; Maggie felt as if each clack was a nail in her coffin, sealing her in.
Taking five or six more deep breaths, she hurried to the shared offices of the Junior Aurors. There weren't many of them this year, most had been promoted to intermediate positions or transferred to other departments or foreign governments to assist with international policies. MACUSA was an advocate for international cooperation, and even was in the process of putting together a proposal that would allow any participating magical government to join and be an ally, while being subjected to an international set of rules and regulations that would supersede national governments. It was a wildly debated topic and President Piquery was getting a lot of support from the residents of America, while most foreign countries were weary of an international treaty or ruling body. Maggie thought it was ridiculous that there hadn't been one established yet. If the no-maj had a United Nations why didn't the wizarding world have one? There was already the International Statue of Secrecy, why not expand that?
Most of the lower ranking officials (often times referred to as the expendables by those who were of such rank) had been sent to foreign countries or at the very least had been stationed all throughout the motherland, in order to show the foreign governments that international regulation was possible.
After stabilizing her head and her breathing, Maggie glanced around the empty desks, searching among her coworkers for a familiar face. After a minute of looking, she spotted her partner, a tall blonde named Givens, and all but collapsed into her desk across the way. "Well, hello to you too, Kowalski." The southern drawl of her partner made it sound even more sarcastic, if at all possible. Maggie gave her coworker a glare. "You're madder than a Wampus cat in a hurricane. Is it the new assignment? You do realize that everyone in the department, even Wilkins, prayed to every deity in the universe to get that job, except you. Maybe that's why you got it?" Her partner, her friend, tried to console her.
Maggie relaxed her face and sighed dramatically. If Wilkins wanted the job, then why the hell did she write Piquery a 'glowing report' of reasons why Maggie was the best for the job? She rolled her eyes, refusing to believe her partner. Maggie knew the real reason she received the case, and she knew it had nothing to do with her record or whatever her boss said about her.
"Givens, you don't understand. I didn't get it because I'm good at my job, I got it because I'm a Kowalski. Not to mention my le," Maggie began a rant that Sheila Givens was all too familiar with. It was the same thing Maggie said all throughout their seven years at Ilvermorny, and their Auror training. While Maggie completed the training at an accelerated year and a half timeline, Sheila finished in the standard three years. Maggie had been assigned as a sort of mentor for her and the pair couldn't have been happier about it. Every year the class of auror candidates had what they called an honors program. You could start your training and finish in the standard three years, or you could do double the work to finish even faster. Usually about thirty five to fifty percent of candidates elected for the faster program, most wanted to go right to the catching bad guys part of the job; however only one or two individuals usually finished the accelerated program while the rest dropped out of auror training altogether. It was not for those faint of heart, body, or mind.
Ever since Sheila had known Maggie, the brunette refused to accept any merits or special achievements she earned, citing that it was all because of her heritage that she was even considered or recognized. She hated her privilege and refused to acknowledge any and all accolades. She attributed it to her last name, not her skill or whether or not she warranted it on her own. Sheila was, quite honestly, tired of arguing with her best friend. She rolled her eyes and held up her hand, stopping before she got to the part of the first war and her family's involvement.
"Sweetie, I know you don't think you could have possibly deserved anything you've managed to do your entire life, but that's the way the cookie crumbled, so suck it up buttercup! You have the opportunity of a lifetime and, quite possibly, the chance to end yet another Wizarding War, possibly before it reaches an international level. Your parents must be so proud. I know your grannie is…though she was a bit put out when I was the one who told her." Sheila was trying to urge her friend to get out of her sour mood. The rest of their peers had vacated the office. She glanced at her wristwatch, confirming that it was quitting time. While gathering her belongings, Sheila pierced her friend with a look that let Maggie know she was done hearing the bullshit.
Maggie rolled her eyes back and sighed once more, this one a defeated sigh. She knew when an argument was lost before it even began. The room was eerily devoid of any sound beyond what the two aurors were making. In the background of their conversation the sun was slowly setting in the late summer sky. While still warm, the temperature outside was dropping and Sheila decided to leave her sweater for the office. The women of the office often joked that when it was summer outside, it was winter in the offices thanks to the men in control of the cooling charms for the building. For some reason, no amount of warming charms or any other spell work was able to keep the offices comfortable for the few women that worked there.
Maggie felt guilty as she rose from the chair and grabbed her bag. It wasn't that she was trying to make everyone as miserable as she was (at least, not entirely), it was simply the fact that she was due to leave the country in less than forty-eight hours. While she was twenty-one and no longer the naïve witch who just received her wand, Maggie still believed she wasn't experienced or ready for something as daunting as leading an international envoy to assist the British aurors in defeating one of the darkest wizards of all time and his band of heretic sycophants.
"I know. She sent me a howler every day for a week. I still haven't been able to see them in person, I don't want to look her in the eye. What's worse is Grandad wasn't even bothering to take his potion or quiet his thoughts around me, and that was before they found out. I specifically told them two months ago when I got the case that I was off the potion and reminded Grandad to please take it around me. Now they'll be unbearable. They know how the pull the guilt trip, that's for sure." Maggie admitted. She loved her grandparents, they practically raised her.
Lincoln Kowalski was the only child of Queenie and Jacob Kowalski. While working as an intern for the International Relations Department of MACUSA, he spent three months in Portugal and fell in love with Josette Casaudor. Shortly after their summer romance, Lincoln became the junior ambassador of MACUSA in Portugal. It was fate, and three years after they got married little Magdalena was born. She spent most of her early years in Portugal, but around the age of eight she started living with her grandparents so they could prepare her to attend Ilvermorny. While there was plenty of opportunity to attend schools in Europe, Lincoln and Josette knew that Ilvermorny was the safest and optimal option for their one and only child.
Sheila looked up and gave her friend an encouraging smile. "I know your parents are still in Portugal visiting your ma's family, but your grandparents mean well." Sheila always knew how to pull Maggie from her sour moods. Something about her tone and soft brown eyes (that reminded her of the little chocolate chips in cookies) always made Maggie feel like she needed to confess her sins and repent. Maybe it was the southern accent too, combined with the years of experience handling her, but Sheila was able to understand Maggie's emotions before Maggie herself could. She used to joke that she was an empath, but Maggie always wondered in the back of her mind if that was true.
With a small wave goodbye, and a promise to show up at the Sunday dinner, Maggie left the auror office and headed to the apparition point. She was not looking forward to finally seeing her grandparents in person. With one last deep breath, she apparated to Brooklyn, not at all prepared for the lecture she knew she was about to receive.
"Why didn't you tell us, Maggie, we could've better helped you prepare."
I don't understand why she doesn't trust me; did I do something? I know I'm a no-maj but she's family.
"And now you're leaving in two days and we hardly have any time for a proper goodbye. Newt and Teenie are off in New Zealand and I don't know if they got my messages. Your parents can't get a return portkey until Monday morning, but they may arrive too late."
Look at her, she's all grown up. Maybe she'll find the love of her life overseas and make more magic babies and give me great-grandchildren. She's got Queenie's hair that's for sure. Only that fancy potion can tame those curls. Maybe I should buy her some, as a going away present. Do they have that kinda stuff in England? Or is she going to Britain? Are they the same place? I thought Newt said Hogwarts was in Scotland. What part of the country is she going to?!
"And I had to find out from Sheila! I love her as family, but why is it your friend trust us more than you do?"
Look at Newt, we were battling dark wizards in our twenties. It isn't that different than her job now, is it? I mean, just how bad can this potential dark wizard guy be? We survived back then. Of course Maggie will be okay.
"-I don't care if Newt and Tina trust the British government with their lives, you're only twenty-one for Isolt's sake. Yes, you're a fancy auror and Teenie is proud, we are all extremely proud of you hun, but that doesn't mean you need to go galivanting across the globe on some Dark Wizard hunting mission. You have your entire life ahead of you."
We didn't go hunting after dark wizards until we were in our mid to late twenties, is this what the younger generations are going to have to do? How can I protect my family when I ain't no wizard?
"You stop thinking that right now, Jacob Kowalski!" Queenie Kowalski finally broke her tirade to turn and yell at her husband. Maggie let out the breath she was holding in, thankful for the force of their emotions to be off her and directed somewhere else. While she usually took a potion to deal with that kinda thing, her instructions from Wilkins were to be completely off any inhibiting potions in order to do her job. "I thought we were over this, pookie."
Maggie tried to ignore the pet name and intimate conversation of her grandparents. She kept herself distracted by the moving, and nonmoving, pictures in her grandparents' home. While she grew up in an entirely magical household, Queenie and Jacob Kowalski were the epitome of a blended home. In America it wasn't uncommon to see half-bloods, there were plenty of kids who had no-maj parents but themselves had magic. However, to be a kid of a no-maj and witch or wizard, it was nearly unheard of. It was illegal for a long time to marry a no-maj, and even more illegal to have a child with a no-maj. Many people in such a relationship fled the country or were put to trial and sentenced to prison or worse.
In the Kowalski home, there were many magical and non-magical things strewn about, making the electricity in the house go haywire at times when the whole family was overusing magic, but nothing too dangerous. The house was full of love and it showed in the décor. Every wall and shelf seemed to be covered in portraits or pictures. Maggie took a few steps around the room, searching for her favorite pictures. She hadn't seen her grandparents in nearly two months, and Grandma always redecorated the place when she was stressed. It was apparent that the news about her only grandchild had caused an abundance of stress.
From the kitchen you could smell the fresh baked pastries. Maggie didn't know which grandparent was the chef but knew that whatever they made would be the most delectable food she had in a while. Hoping that she would be given enough to take home, she continued her walk around the living room.
Maggie stopped when she passed the bookshelf and couldn't help but let a large smile grow across her face. Her favorite pictures were the ones of their wedding. It took a while, according to the stories everyone told her, but after everything, Jacob finally relented and married the love of his life. It was terribly romantic to Maggie; a forbidden love, an evil wizard, an obscurus, a Maledictus snake, a naturally born legilimen, a no-maj, a witch, and British wizard with a curious briefcase…it was her favorite bedtime story growing up and she didn't even realize it was her family story until she was eleven and allowed to attend school.
She turned to face her grandparents once more, realizing they had finished their argument and were now looking at her with a mixture of pride and exasperation. It was a look she was able to elicit from any and all authority figures of her life. "So, Sheila told me the no-maj in the South have something she called "Jim Crow laws", because of the overturning of the segregation laws. Basically, preventing any non-white individual from doing things like the whites. Isn't that awful?" Maggie tried her favorite technique on her grandparents, switching the subject. Especially when the subject was about an oppressed people or forbidden love or oppressive government. Maybe it wasn't fair, seeing as in their day the strain between no-maj and MACUSA was at an all-time high (not that it was much better nearly fifty years later), but Maggie knew her grandparents weakness and she had no qualms of exploiting it.
Queenie just sighed, slightly disappointed in her granddaughter. "That trick hasn't worked nearly as well as you think it has, Maggie." Maggie didn't have to be a legilimen to feel the emotions radiating off her grandparents. Lowering her head in shame, she took two steps and threw her arms around them. She wasn't as tall as her grandfather, or even her grandmother. Standing at five-foot two inches she was the shortest in her family, even shorter than her cousin Frank, who managed to stand at five-foot four inches and he was only eleven!
"I'm scared." Maggie's voice was so soft she wasn't even sure they heard her, but the squeeze she felt from their arms confirmed that they had.
"I know sweetie, I know." Her grandmother whispered while stroking her unruly brown curls.
"You come from a long line of strong women, kid, you've got dark wizard fighting in your blood! Even from the no-maj side." Jacob Kowalski gave a belly laugh, causing the other two women to giggle through their tears. His eyes shone with pride. While he used to feel insecure being in a family of wizards, he had mostly outgrown those feelings. It was only due to the new threats, and the fact that his daughter was now a fancy wizard cop, that Jacob had his old insecurities flair up once more.
"Thanks, Grandad. I don't think I will personally be taking them on. My team is investigating, but I know their government will make great use of me as a pawn." The assignment was to assist British auror's with their search for the reasons behind the attacks in Britain, but Maggie wasn't a fool; she spent a lot of time talking with her Uncle Newt about the British government, and the duel between infamous Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore. He always seemed to be the wizard behind the curtain. Even if Uncle Newt trusted him beyond a shadow of a doubt, Maggie wasn't as keen on the older wizard. She spent even more time talking to Wilkins, who had a rather harsh opinion of the man who finally took down Gellert Grindelwald almost thirty-three years ago. Wilkins was a feminist and abhorred men in positions of power. Not that she hated all men, but "people like Dumbledore who use people as pieces in a chess match" seemed to get under her boss's skin more than most wizards. Wilkins didn't always voice those opinions, but whenever the name Dumbledore was brought into conversation, Maggie had a hard time focusing on anything other than the boiling disgust coming from her boss. Maggie knew the Supreme Mugwump was more tangled into the leadership and government of Great Britain than most people realized. Wilkins often said it was really Dumbledore who ran the ministry. Maggie was eager to find out if that statement was true or not.
Queenie shushed her while Jacob laughed. "You're a queen, my sweet. Not a pawn." Grandpa Jacob always had a way of making Maggie feel special. Maybe because she was the only grandchild of his only child, but she had always been the apple of his eye. She gave him a watery smile. "I think I'll miss you most of all." The quote from their favorite movie brought more tears to her grandpa's eyes. He blinked quickly and smiled tightly to fight back the tears. Queenie wiped her eyes and shuffled Maggie to the fireplace.
"Now, now, we have plenty of time for platitudes and tearful goodbyes on Sunday. I'm sure you had other places you needed to go, dearest. Don't let us hold you up." Queenie felt the emotions of the room as hard as Maggie did. Queenie never felt right taking a potion to prevent her abilities, not like Maggie did.
Maggie deposited her bag on her living room floor, pulling out her wand to remove the soot from her clothes. Although she preferred aparating as a means of transportation, her granddad loved seeing people step into the green magical flames so much she could never resist seeing his eyes light up. Every time someone used the floo in his home, it was like he was seeing magic again for the first time.
She looked around her nearly empty flat. Carter took most of the furniture, seeing as her lease was ending Monday because she was moving to the other side of the globe. He left her books, family photos, and chocolate card collection. She smiled as she picked up her uncle's card. It was the first chocolate frog she ever opened and her most treasured. Though, as an adult she had a sneaking suspicion that her family had jokingly bought a box full of the Newt Scamander cards.
There were a magnitude of feelings coursing through her as she let her wand finish packing the meager belongings she had left of her life in America. This assignment didn't exactly have an end date, it was more or less a "until Voldemort is dead, or they have no use for you anymore" kind of task so she wasn't quite sure what to expect. It could last anywhere from three months to three decades, at least that's what she often complained about to Sheila.
As someone who could hear the thoughts and feel the emotions of others, Maggie grew up with the privilege of knowing nearly everything before it would happen. Her mother didn't figure out she was like her grandmother until little Maggie had turned eight. When she was shipped off to school, she was given a potion to dampen her abilities, making it nearly impossible to use her special gift without a wand. While she technically could use her wand to still hear others' thoughts, under the potion it took extreme effort and almost all of her focusing to do so. It wasn't worth the hassle, basically. She stopped taking it for a while in her fifth and sixth years, but the raging hormones of her pubescent peers was more than she could handle so she went back on it. It wasn't until two months ago, when she got the assignment, did she stop taking it. It was a little overwhelming, the sudden influx of thoughts and emotions. Most of the time she could keep it under control, especially if she wasn't sitting or standing too close to anyone; but when she was stressed or had too much of her own feelings, that's when everyone else's seemed to hit her as well.
The apartment was quiet. She used to come home to Carter bustling about the kitchen, inviting her to taste test a new recipe he was trying out. He was one of the best chefs she ever met.
A frown graced her lips as she recalled their breakup a month ago.
"I can't believe you think we should break up! I love you, Mags, I don't think I could," Carter was cut off by Maggie's small hand. She was blinking back the tears that were building in her eyes, trying to soothe the stinging in her throat that always came before the tears.
"Carter, I can't. I'll be thousands of miles away, you can't get an international portkey every month, and you've just made Sous Chef at the restaurant. I can't ask you to give up everything you've worked for. That's not right of me." Maggie, while she did love Carter and was happy with their relationship and the way things had been progressing, wasn't sure she and Carter had been on the same page for a while. Breaking up, she knew, would be easier to do now than try and even attempt an international long-distance relationship. Maggie cleared her throat, willing the tears to stop before they even fell.
"But you're not asking, I'm suggesting. Maggie you're the world and I thought…well…" Carter's voice nearly broke and he kept fiddling with something small in his hands. Maggie hadn't really been paying attention to it when they sat down on the couch to have "the talk" but now her focus was zoned in on his hands. She saw a light reflecting off something metallic in his hands. It wasn't until now that she began to feel Carter's emotions and hear his thoughts. Her eyes slowly widened with realization of what was happening. Nothing could've prepared her for this.
Carter took a deep breath and summed every ounce of courage he had. 'Well, this is it. If there was ever a moment, it would be now.' Maggie could hear his thoughts and she kept screaming 'no, no, no, no' in her head.
But Carter wasn't an empath or legilimen. He was also not the best at reading her emotions anyways, especially when he was so blatantly caught up in his own feelings. He got off the couch and lowered himself onto one knee. After another deep breath, he presented her a ring. It was gold, with a thick band and a huge white diamond in the center. The diamond had to have been close to ten carats, easily the size of a lima bean, and the most un-Maggie like engagement ring she'd ever seen. They hadn't really talked about marriage, most of their friends were getting engaged or planning on it, but she didn't really think about it. Clearly, Carter had.
"Magdalena Dourada Kowalski," Maggie shuddered at the use of her full name. No one really called her Magdalena, let alone pulled out the middle name. Every minute that passed by it was becoming blatantly clear that Carter never understood her like she expected him to. Did she even want him to?
"We've been dating for three years; you've been in my life since I was eleven years old. I can't imagine a life without you by my side. I know distance, or me moving with you, whatever you chose will be a long rode with lots of bumps and turns, but I believe we can get through this. I want you as my wife. Will you do me the favor of marrying me?" His speech just made Maggie's stomach turn even worse and she didn't even realize he had taken her left hand, as if prepared to slide the ring on once she (in his mind) inevitably said yes. Maggie slowly shook her head no, while removing her hand from his grip.
Carter looked confused, as if this weren't even an option he had possibly considered. "Carter," Maggie began, her voice full of pity. She gazed around the room, doing everything she could to avoid looking at his eyes. She practiced her occlumency techniques, which really helped her block out anything she didn't want to hear or feel from other people's minds. She could hear Carter stumble over his words, asking why or how and every other one worded question. Fearing she broke his brain, Maggie tried explaining once she found her voice again.
"I don't think we are on the same page about this, Carter. We haven't talked about marriage, or kids, or a future together…" She trailed off, chancing a glance at her (now ex?) boyfriend. He was handsome. Carter came from a long line of purebloods, with excellent bone structure and perfectly coifed blonde hair. His skin always had that summer tan look and Maggie always felt out of place next to him. He belonged in some GQ magazine, straight off the runway; she always felt like a JC Penney sales catalog. It wasn't that she didn't consider herself pretty, on a scale of one to ten she felt herself a six, possibly a strong seven when she put in effort, but next to a strong ten like Carter she never felt like she was enough for him. People often wondered why such a handsome man was with such a basic barely pretty girl.
"Then let's talk about it now, my love." His voice was pleading, sounding more desperate than she ever heard him before. This caused her to meet his eyes and she almost suffocated from the emotions she got from him. His thoughts were scattered and frantic, Maggie started to feel sorry for him, like she was really breaking his heart, when she caught a thought that made her blood pressure rise and gave her chills. 'I've ruined everything. He will never give me my inheritance now.'
"What inheritance?" Maggie's voice was a lot calmer than the turmoil going through her body. She could feel her heartbeat in her toes and her breathing was shallow. "What have you ruined?" Her voice was low, and Carter had never heard her speak like that.
His eyes bulged and he realized his mistake. 'She hasn't taken her potion, I forgot to take mine today.' "You've been taking the potion?" Maggie's voice was eerily calm still, unnerving Carter to no end. He'd rather have her yelling or hexing him, anything but the cold indifference she was giving him.
"I…I didn't want to spoil the proposal by thinking about it near you." He applauded himself mentally for the quick save, hoping against hope that she would believe him. Maggie narrowed her eyes and let out a cold, detached laugh that was nothing like her warm laugh or anything Carter ever heard from her.
"That is bullshit. Do you think I am stupid? Do you take me for a moron? Tell me, Carter, exactly how long have you been dating me for your inheritance? Did your father put you up to this? What am I saying, of course he did! I thought…Well, it doesn't matter what I thought because we both know exactly what you thought and are thinking." Maggie's voice started to crack, and her breathing became slightly erratic as she spoke faster, until she took a deep breath and let it go. She was using a trick her grandma taught her when she was little; it was a way to calm the world and every emotion and thought both inside and outside her head. "I am leaving. I will return in two days and everything of yours will be gone. Take all the furniture, I could not care less for it or you. Leave my belongings alone." Maggie's voice was low and devoid of any emotion again. It was like a serene blanket wrapped around her heart and her body. Carter kept sputtering out apology after apology, begging Maggie to stay as she rose from the couch and grabbed her coat and bag. She didn't bother to look at him or make eye contact with him. Her blood pressure was normal again.
Carter was fumbling over the coffee table to follow her but was blocked by an invisible shield that Maggie erected between the two of them. Ilvermorny always enforced nonverbal magic from the first day, Maggie had been exceptionally good at it since she was the top three of her class every year. Carter became angrier as he searched for his wand, only to see it in her other hand. His eyes narrowed and before he could speak Maggie turned around, to meet his eyes, and silenced him. She no longer wanted to hear the drivel from his mouth.
"You have two days, Carter, before I send my uncle, my father, my mother, my grandmother, my grandfather, my aunt, and Sheila to make sure you've cleared out the apartment. If that doesn't work, there will be a restraining order signed and enforced by Piquery herself." The threatening tone of her voice didn't go unnoticed by Carter. Not one to ever use her privilege or family connections for personal gain, Maggie was past the limit. If he didn't take her seriously, she would make sure there would be hell to pay. She was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them; she always followed through on a threat or promise.
Maggie chucked his wand across the room and into the hall, watching him run after it like a dog with a stick. She rolled her eyes and apparated to Sheila's place.
Sunday
Maggie was surrounded by so many loved ones that it physically hurt her. Sunday dinner was usually filled with love and laughter, but this one was special because it was the last one Maggie would have for the foreseeable future. It seemed no one wanted the night to end. Dinners in the Kowalski household were finished before eight at night, but that Sunday evening it was already pushing ten when Jacob brought out another case of giggly water. It had been a long time favorite drink of his, and it was one of Maggie's favorite stories that he told about his time in the twenties.
"So I tell the barkeep, 'My uncle is a house elf,'" Jacob could hardly finish the story in between fits of laughter. Sheila, who, like everyone else in the room, had heard the story dozens of times, burst out laughing once more. "Of course now that I know what a house elf is, it makes more sense why he was so suspicious!" Jacob and Sheila couldn't hold their giggles in any longer and they soon had tears of laughter streaming down their faces.
Queenie and Maggie were seated on the couch, staring at their loved ones. "Grandma?" Maggie asked, turning to face the woman who practically raised her. Queenie smiled, encouraging her to ask the question on her mind. Maggie took a deep breath, trying hard to bite back the tears forming in her eyes. "I know that we live a long time, almost double the life span of no-maj. But…I guess…I mean, Grandad is…well he's already seventy-four, which is a long time for a no-maj and I…" The tears began to fall, and for once Maggie didn't even bother to wipe them away. Queenie pulled Maggie into a hug, letting her own tears fall.
"Don't worry, my love, Jacob and I have talked about this many times over the years." Queenie shushed her granddaughter's cries, smoothing out the unruly brown curls that were very much like her own, except for their coloring.
Maggie pulled away, shaking her head profusely and hiccupping from the effort it took to cry out her fears. "This assignment could last a year or two, maybe even ten! We don't know…I don't know…Grandma what if…What if I'm gone when it…happens?" Maggie couldn't bear the thought of losing the most important man in her life. Just the idea caused her stomach to twist into knots and she felt the rich dinner her grandparents made, followed with too many sweet pastries, rise from her stomach. After a few deep breaths, and a mild calming spell from Queenie, Maggie didn't lose the contents of her stomach and was able to relax a bit.
"Oh sweetie, I promise you if anything happens, I will create the most illegal portkey and whisk you away from Newt's country. Everything will be fine, my love. Now, go to your room and get some sleep, your parents and Newt and Teenie will be arriving in the morning, hopefully before you need to be at the office." Queenie pulled Maggie into a crushing hug. Inhaling her grandmother's unique scent, Maggie wanted to memorize everything about that moment. It was her goodbye to her grandmother, even if she would see her in the morning. War was unpredictable, and Queenie was already lucky enough to make it through one, Maggie was worried that she wouldn't be so lucky the second time.
With heavy feet and two more long hugs from the other occupants of the room, Maggie exited the room and nearly collapsed on her old bed. It had been nearly three years since she last stayed in the bedroom she grew up in, and she smiled softly when she realized her grandparents hadn't changed a single thing. From the posters on the wall to the carpet stain from an experimental potion that even magic couldn't remove, everything about the room gave Maggie a sense of nostalgia. Gone were the worry-free days of her childhood. She knew going into the auror program, and subsequently getting accepted into the honors program, that the world was a dangerous place. There wasn't simply a black and white outlook, everyone lived varying shades of grey. Maggie learned early on that magic, while neither 'good' nor 'bad', had a purpose and it was the intent of the person who wielded such magic that made the outcome 'good' or 'bad'.
She closed her eyes, feeling the emotions of the day leaving her body drained and overwhelmed. Filled with trepidation about the next days and her future after, Maggie took the dreamless sleep potion her grandmother left on her nightstand and swallowed it all. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
The weather was grey and wet the morning of August 31st of 1973. Maggie pulled her sweater tighter around her body was she walked to the apparation point. It was a few blocks down from the muggle neighborhood her grandparents lived in. With a swirl of conflicting emotions, Maggie disaparated.
Maggie was assaulted with lively chatter in the offices of MACUSA that morning. Memos were flying everywhere, and people would wave cheerfully to her, smiling at the infamous Maggie Kowalski. It was hard at first, working in the same building that her family had such a checkered past with. Once her aunt retired, the halls were slightly more welcoming; however, it always felt as if people were just waiting for her to make a scene. Granted, she usually did cause a scene, especially in her early days as an auror who just received her badge. Most recently, ever since she got the assignment, she kept to herself.
At a quarter until her designated arrival time, Maggie made it to her desk. To her surprise, her partner and friend was seated in the desk across, nursing what looked to be a hangover. "I told you that you didn't have to be here. Go home or take a hangover potion. Giggly water always seems innocent until you're on the second case. Grandad loves them, and you're terrible for encouraging him." Maggie hissed at her friend, careful not to raise her voice and make Sheila's headache worse.
"Out of potion." Grunted her longtime confidant. Maggie rolled her eyes, reaching in her desk to retrieve a small vial. "This is the last of my stash here, you're gonna have to brew your own or buy a crate." Sheila looked up at Maggie and gave her a beaming smile, swallowing the potion in two huge gulps. Relief flooded her as her complexion shifted back from a light dusty sand color to the normal caramel tones.
"My saint, how will I ever get by without you?" Sheila declared, fluttering her eyelashes at her friend. The potion, having done its job, gave Maggie the sober version of her best friend once more. Maggie tried to glare at her but ended up failing as a smile tugged at her lips. She huffed, rolling her eyes at Sheila's dramatics.
A somber expression fell on Sheila's face as she stared at the picture on her desk. Maggie knew exactly what the picture looked like. It was the two of them the day they graduated Ilvermorny and found out they were accepted into the ministry's auror program. It was one of the happiest days of Maggie's life, and now, tinted with the knowledge of the future, one of the saddest. It was the day Carter asked her to be his girlfriend, in front of everyone, and she had felt very pressured to say yes. Looking back on the relationship left a bitter taste in her mouth. For years she ignored the signs that they weren't right for each other, and instead let the rest of the world pressure her into settling for a subpar relationship. She knew she deserved better and vowed the moment she ended things with Carter she wouldn't settle for another man who couldn't understand her ever again.
"You know we haven't been a part longer than two weeks since we were eleven?" Sheila asked the question with a quiet voice. It wasn't often Sheila showed any signs of weakness or was maudlin at all, but Maggie knew how hard this assignment would be on the both of them. Guilt flooded her veins and for what seemed the thousandth time she wondered whether or not she did the right thing accepting the case.
A sad laugh bubbled up Maggie's throat and came out as a sort of strangled sob. "You're forgetting the great fight of '65 when Thomas Thatching decided he liked you better than me. We didn't speak for thirty-one and a half days." The memory of their petty childhood fight brought tears to their eyes as they both ended up laughing at how awkward and stupid their teenage selves had been. Sheila nodded in defeat.
"Stupid ass, he didn't deserve you." Sheila's voice cracked, meeting the eyes of her best friend. "Technically we still saw each other at school. It won't be like that when you're overseas." Sheila wasn't the kind of girl who showed much emotion. She was strong and came from a line of even stronger women, dating to her no-maj ancestors who were stolen from their homeland and forced to be slaves. Maggie reached across the desk to squeeze her friend's hand. With watery eyes and a half-forced smile, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the arrival of her boss.
Wilkins was in a hurry that morning, apparently the British minister was an ass, but Maggie didn't have to be a legilimen to figure out exactly what her boss thought of the man. "Kowalski, the portkey will be leaving in five minutes, come along to my office." Wilkins, while usually spoke in stoic and clipped tones, was a bit softer today. Maggie chose to ignore the difference in the intimidating woman.
The room was suffocating as Maggie grabbed her bag filled with the shrunken boxes of practically everything she owned in the world. Wilkins was rattling off about the assignment, but Maggie wasn't focusing. She knew the case folder inside and out. With the two months she had to prepare, Maggie spent every waking moment preparing for what would be the most important and defining case of her entire life and career as an auror. The walk to Wilkins office took the longest and shortest amount of time it had ever taken Maggie. This was it, there was no turning back now. "…Try not to let them intimidate you, it isn't like here. Just from the little we have spoken their head auror seems to be a stubborn old man and their entire ministry looks like it would fall just with one stone thrown at it." Wilkins reassuring words fell on deaf ears. Maggie wasn't worried about a bunch of misogynistic foreigners. Wilkins had spent the better part of three years preparing her to take on anyone and anything.
Once the women reached the office, Wilkins turned to Maggie. Maggie could feel the influx of emotions and the multitudes of thoughts running through her boss's head. Wilkins opened her mouth a few times to speak but Maggie just smiled and held up a hand. Wilkins nodded, understanding there was no need for words or goodbyes, Maggie understood exactly how she felt. "Right, you're off the potion. Well, I guess that's it then. Here," Wilkins handed Maggie a book. It was entitled 'The 1000 Ways to Orgasm Without A Man'. Maggie couldn't help but laugh at the title, knowing that only Wilkin's would've picked a book like that for her international portkey. Wilkins smiled sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders.
"A nice ice breaker for all the foreign shits you're about to meet." Wilkins gave Maggie a rare hug. Blinking back tears, Maggie memorized the embrace, fearing it was the last time she'd ever be this close to her boss.
"Thank you." The words were barely a whisper as Maggie let go of her boss, who was blinking back tears herself. The book began to glow and the next thing Maggie knew she was spinning through space in a flash of lights.
"Good luck kid, you're gonna need it." Wilkins whispered to her now empty office, praying to every deity she didn't believe in that Maggie would make it out alive.