August, 2016
Chapter 5: Remember Paris
"Her biggest secret was standing right there before her.
She just hoped he wasn't also her biggest mistake."
― Katharine McGee, The Thousandth Floor
To say that Hazel felt uneasy was an understatement. The trip to Paris had actually been fairly relaxed thus far, even if she hadn't anticipated Jack and Tim to be joining her and Kes. If she was honest with herself, she had almost expected to attend the meeting alone, without her boyfriend or best friends. Now, Hazel wasn't sure if their company made her happier or simply more nervous.
Three years passed quickly when torn between friends, it seemed. Despite the resulting tensions between the boys and her other, muggleborn friends – they weren't too happy with Jack and Kestis attacking the Professor - Hazel had tried her best to spend time with everyone she cared about….which was difficult to do with classes and Quidditch and becoming a prefect. Oh, and she'd begun an apprenticeship with Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. She never wanted to see her friends hurt, or feel so helpless, ever again. All things considered, it was safe to say that Hazel had been busy. Before her sixth year, she'd been surprisingly fine with dropping her Chaser position on the Hufflepuff team, especially considering her boyfriend was the Quidditch captain.
She wasn't the only one who'd been busy, however. Hazel had been surprised when the prefect badge had come in the mail, which had quickly turned into something else as she noticed the letter from Markus Ryker, one of the "Wanted Criminals" that the Daily Prophet continued to warn them about. With the "Ridge Reports" articles growing in popularity - no one suspected anything when a graduating Ravenclaw joined the Prophet, why would they? - the wizarding community was becoming increasingly divided on the matter of muggleborn rights...amongst other issues. Before her father could read the name - thankfully, Markus had only written 'Leo' as the sender - Hazel had grabbed both letters before rushing upstairs. Not suspicious at all.
Thankfully, her father had been too busy reading their copy of the Prophet, focused on the article about the attacks; third year, news of "Death Eaters" returning came with the less of several muggleborn families….Carly's included. Poor Carly. Another boy from Hufflepuff, Ben, had lost his entire family due to a Death Eater attack. Introducing the pair to the Corre had helped, but only as much as new friendships could.Over the past few years, these attacks had only increased in frequency and intensity, and had even begun to call themselves the "Soulless", a reference to their return to life after being Kissed. This name hadn't truly been accepted, or used, until the Ministry had declared the Dementor's Kiss to be not permanent. Alongside the onslaught of bad news in the wizarding world, Hazel had been grateful to hear that some of the Soulless had been caught by Aurors. Sadly, it'd been less than a month, and people were still whispering Barty Crouch Jr.'s name in the streets, fearful despite his supposed capture.
The very last article that Edward posted in the Daily Prophet had caused quite a stir. Before resigning and officially joining the Corre as Wanted by the Ministry, the dark-haired wizard had openly invited muggleborns and wizards of all blood status to join them in Paris, France. Of course, Jack had outright refused to go; ever since Hazel had returned third year from her summer with the Corre, and especially after the 'duel' in the Great Hall, Jack had been increasingly distrustful of the group, and Ridgeway in particular. Though she knew some of his distrust stemmed from his Hufflepuff loyalty to his friends, Hazel was genuinely disappointed, and a bit saddened, by the slight gap it had caused in their friendship. On the rare occasion, however - though she would never admit them out loud - she wondered if Jack was right, but quickly dismissed those thoughts with a pang of guilt.
A pressure on her hand broke her concentration, and the 16-year-old witch glanced up at her boyfriend of almost three years with an automatic smile. Without her realizing, the pair had stopped on the sidewalk as Jack and Tim walked ahead, chatting and unaware. Jack was waving his hands enthusiastically about something as Tim smiled almost indulgently at his friend. "You alright? It must feel weird, knowing you're going to see them again after not talking to them for years." Kes gently squeezed her hand again in his, concern clear in his eyes. Hazel tried to swallow, but found that her throat was surprisingly dry as the recurring guilt seemed to weigh on her chest, preventing her from speaking, from telling another, inevitable lie to someone who trusted her. His gaze, piercing blue and brown, was too much, so Hazel tried to smile in front of her as she pulled him forward. "It's a bit strange, but I'm interested to see who else shows up as well. After all, Jack, and maybe even Tim, might not have come today if I hadn't said I was going. I'm sure it'll turn out fine, though; what's the worst that can happen?" As she rambled, Hazel could feel Kes's gaze still trained on her face. She really was a horrible person.
Ever since Edward had taken her to the hidden room on the seventh floor, where the Corre had been, as if waiting, Hazel had secretly kept in correspondence with the group. While Ridgeway had asked her to send letters, Hazel was still shocked - to put it mildly - to see the Wanted wizard seemingly relaxing outside of a coffee shop in New York that she happened to be passing by. It had taken her a moment to recognize him with shorter hair, but the professor had been as kind as ever, simply answering her questions in an attempt to ease her confusion with the rapid changes that had occurred since the Final Feast third year. Although she could've told Kes, and maybe the other boys...Hazel hadn't. Something - whether it was a sense of loyalty to her 'criminal' friends or something else - had kept the brunette quiet, making up excuses for the near constant letters to Ridgeway, Markus, and the others. She had even taken to practicing in empty classrooms - much like her roommate used to do - as the Corre sent new spells for her to learn. While she supposed she could've told Carlie and Ben, as they might've been in contact themselves, she found she didn't want to share her correspondence...with anyone.
So it was with an underlying guilt that Hazel lied to her best friends about the letters she received, claiming they were from Isolde from Sweden or even her own brother (that lie in particular had made her reevaluate whether she belonged in Hufflepuff). As Kes and Hazel walked the streets of Paris with their friends, Hazel wondered if she should've come alone. What if something happened? She wasn't sure if she could stand for anyone else - whether it be the Corre, Ridgeway, or her friends - getting hurt again.
Although it wasn't late enough for the sun to set, the sky appeared to darken. Silently and suddenly, huge swaths of a black cloth material appeared above the city, draping over buildings for as far as the eye could see. The four paused to stare above them before they realized that muggles took no notice of the massive, moving silk that seemed to wave in an invisible wind. Other men and women, wizards, they assumed, followed the vibrant shock of white that moved through the black cloth towards what was likely to be the meeting place. This time, it was Hazel that squeezed Kes's hand as a sense of foreboding crossed over her. She'd always known that Ridgeway was powerful and held back an incredible amount of talent, but the sheer scope of this magic was still...impressive, to say the least. After sharing a look, the four young wizards quietly followed the growing crowd.
The rally was to be held at the LeStrange Tomb, or that's what the sign read as Hazel made her way through wizards of various heights and hair colors. Stone steps, stained by rain and wear, led to an ancient dais at the bottom, surrounded by crumbling statues and groups of whispering witches. Hazel recognized more faces than she anticipated. Carlie and Ben, holding hands, waved at the witch before turning back to their conversation with a few other, vaguely recognizable students. For the amount of people present, the area was fairly quiet; Hazel's dread, mixed with curiosity and something unrecognizable, grew. Beside her, Jack, Kes, and Tim observed the space with similar, serious expressions. She didn't know what, but something was meant to happen tonight; in the back of her mind, she wondered why the tomb sounded so familiar. Out of the corner of her eye, Hazel saw Mandeep and Mohinder facing each other, gesturing towards the center.
Standing on the dais were five figures that seemed to converse softly with one another, occasionally looking around the room. Though she had seen Ridgeway a few months prior, and spoken to him just last week, the sight of the professor and the Corre standing in the open like this made her breath catch. Ridgeway's hair, shorter than it had ever been, suited the nicer suit he adorned. Dark eyes scanned the audience, hands tucked behind his back, a small smile gracing his lips. Markus ran a hand through his own, new haircut as he turned to say something to Henry and Miranda, who were holding hands, seemingly leaning into each other's touch.
With her hand still in Kes's own, Hazel pulled the boys from their hesitation to seats in the middle of the amphitheatre. Jack and Tim settled to her left while Kes sat on her immediate right. While she could hear their soft voices, Hazel was focused on the Corre in the center. Edward caught her eye as he adjusted his glasses and smiled softly at the girl. At this, the other members seemed to notice her presence; Hazel almost fell over when Markus actually waved at her from his spot to the right of the professor. Resisting the creeping smile on her face, Hazel nodded at each before turning to the friends sitting next to her. Before she could speak, however, something in the air seemed to change as everyone began to find a place to sit.
Hazel smiled slightly at the disgruntled expression on Jack's face as Marcus Ridgeway stepped forward, leaning into Kes as he draped one arm around her shoulder. The crowd's applause echoed against the stone as the dark-haired man on the platform raised his hand slowly, and began to speak in a soft voice that seemed to fill the room. "My brothers, my sisters, my friends, the great gift of your applause is not for me but for yourselves. Therefore, applaud yourselves," Ridgeway smiled as he turned gracefully, nodding at different wizards in the crowd that clung to each word. Hazel found herself similarly enraptured as the man continued, "The Ministry claims that I am a criminal, levying false claims of theft and murder against me as they disguise the truth." He appears to laugh softly, almost privately, before he looks up once more, smile slipping from his face. "It has been said that I hate the Purebloods, the High Lords, the Le Noblique, the Durentarg." A pause. "I do not hate them. I do not. I simply say that we are not lesser, that we are just as valuable. Not worthless but of other significance. Magic blooms only in rare souls; it is granted to those who live, and we are the rare few, those that live in both worlds...We are the many, yet treated like the few. We, who see the hardships of both worlds but can do nothing. We, who must see our muggle family live harshly and die too early when we could save them." At the dais, Miranda looks at Henry with an imperceptible expression as Ridgeway spoke, "Think what a world we would make for all of humanity. We, who live for freedom, for truth, the moment has come to rise up and take our rightful place in the world."
Jack leaned over to whisper in Hazel's ear, "Is it me, or is he even crazier than before?". Without turning her attention away from the dais, Hazel swatted Jack on the arm with a small scowl, whispering back, "He's making a good point, Jack." Leaning forward, Hazel ignored the burning of Jack's gaze or the arm slipping from her shoulders, eyes locked onto the man in the center of the room. Strangely enough, it almost appeared as if his left eye was changing colors, shifting from the almost black color to a pale gray. Was she imagining things? "Today," the booming voice continued, "I look to all of you as friends, brother and sisters...and ask you to join me."
At the bottom, Miranda quietly pulled away from Henry to lean down and pick up a small object, walking forward to stand beside Ridgeway. Hazel nearly gasped as a small, familiar pipe was lifted into the air - she could clearly recall the hidden compartment, filled with pale jars of memories, a pensive, and a strange pipe - and black and white images were suddenly cast into the air above the dais. Flashes of the muggle registration form, Ministry officials pointing their wands at young, frightened wizards, and people clutching the bars of large, dim cages were only some of the...disturbing scenes that were displayed. Heart racing, Hazel gripped the edge of the stone seat; where exactly had he gotten these images...these memories...from? The room was absolutely silent, with the exception of people shifting uneasily in their seats, as Ridgeway gestured to the scenes playing above his head. "This," he emphasized, "is what we are fighting. Now is the time to stand for our place in the world. To be treated with honesty and decency, for once in our lives. Brothers and sisters, come closer." With a twirl of his hand, vivid blue flames jumped along the edges of the platform, forming a circle around the dais and the five wizards...eerily similar to events that occurred decades ago in this very space. Does history truly repeat itself? "I ask you, to help me usher in this better world," From her seat, Hazel couldn't see Ridgeway's expression, just the slow rise of his right hand, palm up, in the air. The disturbing images above him faded, consumed by the flames, as Miranda lowered the pipe to step back beside Henry and the Corre. "It's time," his voice seemed to soften, growing heavy with emotion, as he turned around the room, "to come home." Hazel's eyes - which were suddenly shining with unshed tears - locked with Marcus Ridgeway's, and she saw little else as he stopped in her direction, hand outstretched as if reaching for her, and her alone, "Come home."
Abruptly, a different voice called out, "I do believe you're Wanted by the Ministry, Marcus." From the shadows of a back corner, two figures stepped forward, followed by a small group of wizards, some with their wands already raised. Aurors. At the front of the group stood a dark, messy-haired man and a familiar red-head, both with deadly expressions on their faces; Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. No. With wide eyes, Hazel covered her mouth despite the voice in her head reminding her of the one-sided duel that took place between the ginger Auror and the professor. Shaking with unnamed emotions, the witch tried to remind herself that Ridgeway could easily take both Ron and Harry, even the entire group behind him. They knew it too, going by their tense, almost frightened, expressions. But still...Something is going to happen tonight. Like the confrontation in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, Ridgeway remained calm amongst the outbreak of noise, heightened tension, and whispers of the worried as he smiled at the pair; his eye, Hazel noticed, had faded back to brown, with no sign that it had changed to begin with. "And here," Ridgeway called out above the cacophony as if he'd never been interrupted, "are those who would confine me, who would lock me away for revealing truths they'd rather hide." The sound in the room exploded, masking Ron Weasley's response; though, by the growing anger on his equally red face, it had been less than friendly.
There was a faint scuffling sound behind her, then a scream cut through the air as a green light flashed somewhere above her, followed by an ominous thud. Merlin, was that - Hazel barely had time to think as the tomb erupted in motion and noise. Kes immediately leaned over her smaller frame to protect her, though no more spells flew through the air. Someone was killed, oh my god, who shot a killing curse? Who was hit? Thoughts fluttered wildly through her mind as she struggled to sit up, trying to assure Kes she was fine - was she? - to look at the scene behind her. Masses of wizards, who had been previously listening in near rapture to Ridgeway were either huddled around what looked to be a body - Merlin, someone died just now - or practically running either away or towards the platform. She could see further commotion where the Aurors had been; from here, it almost looked like one of the Aurors was being tackled and handcuffed by the others. Had an Auror just killed someone? Any smile on Ridgeway's face was gone, replaced by something cold and almost sad; waving his outstretched hand towards the Aurors, the professor's voice echoed within the tomb, "See, brothers and sisters, it is not we who are violent, who cast curses upon the innocent."
Amongst the chaos, Hazel saw Carly and Ben walk, surprisingly calm, towards the center of the tomb. As they passed, Carly gave her roommate a small smile, and the couple strode proudly into the fire. Others soon followed suit, their calm demeanor and purposeful movement a striking contrast to the hysteria around them; she recognized Damon Hanley from Hufflepuff walking alongside two girls from Ravenclaw. A young, blonde girl - she believed her name was Daisy - grinned at Markus as she stepped through the flames before gesturing to a shy, dark-haired boy to follow suit. Hazel was surprised to see Mason Whitehall, a Pureblood Slytherin that she used to share class with, step down the stairs, giving her a small, almost imperceptible nod before turning towards the flames. As if pulled by an invisible string, Hazel found herself on her feet, facing the center; she wasn't sure what she was even looking for until she met the matching brown eyes of her professor once more.
Hazel was barely aware of hands slipping from her shoulders, or multiple male voices calling her name in concern, or even the crowd which nearly caused her to fall as she walked down, down towards the center, towards the flames and the Corre; despite the chaos, Ridgeway almost appeared to be smiling as he held his hand out towards her, and she could almost hear his words echo in her head. Come home, Hazel. Despite the panic and fear and confusion, in that moment she saw nothing but blue flames and dark eyes.
Just as her own hand was lifted, about to brush the seemingly warm blue fire that crackled and hissed, someone grabbed her arm from behind, nearly causing her to stumble backwards. The full symphony of sound returned and she looked to see who had grabbed her, already knowing. Behind her, Kes was gripping her arm - gently, as he always had been - with distress written across his face. A few feet away, Jack and Tim watched with similar expressions. Don't, they seemed to say with their eyes and frowns and knitted eyebrows, Don't go with him.
Someone shoved Kes in their rush, and he stumbled closer to her, hand slipping down her arm to take hers. It was strangely easy to smile up at him in that moment, squeezing his larger hand with both of hers. It's okay, she tried to say, but the words wouldn't leave her upturned lips. Keeping her eyes on her beloved, Hazel took one step backwards, then two. She could see, more than feel, the blue flames licking at her sides, completely harmless despite their appearance. It'll be okay. An foreign ache settled in her chest, eased only by the flames and the hand holding hers; it was strange, she thought, to be both calm and close to tears in the same second. Kes looked down at their joined hands, at her, then somewhere behind her, where the Corre stood. Something in his expression seemed almost resigned as the half-giant glanced back at their friends before moving to stand beside her. Hazel nearly cried in relief; she'd known that Jack, and Tim, were unlikely to join. Deep down, however, she hadn't been sure if Kestis would follow. If she had been paying attention, Hazel would've noticed the panic in Jack and Tim's faces, or the brief flicker of black within the flames as it brushed against Kes. A smile split her face as Kes stood to join her, and the pair walked through the blue flames to the awaiting group. Relief flowed through her as she briefly let go of his hand to take Ridgeway's, still outstretched; professor and mentor, almost father and daughter, connected in a shared smile. After a moment, Ridgeway placed a small item in her palm; a Portkey, guised as a small badge with a raven decorating it. How fitting, she thought, amused.
Unexpected movement caused her turn, breaking the strange and momentary sense of peace that had settled across her; Kes was suddenly lifting his wand, a strangely determined look in his eyes as he aimed at Ridgeway. No, this isn't right. Kes - Before she could react, Markus leapt forward to stand in front of the professor with his own wand lifted. A silent warning from the lion of Gryffindor. "No, stop!" Hazel cried out, stepping in between the two, tensed wizards. This isn't right, why are they fighting? We're all on the same side, stop it, stop this - Miranda shot her a cold look that seemed to settle into her bones as her scorn and disappointment weighed on the young witch. As she turned towards Kes, arms outraised to block any spells he would throw, Hazel could hear Jack shouting from beyond the dais, could see - as if in slow motion - his wand raising at the group. The tip seemed to alight a sinister green; Hazel's heart felt as if it'd jumped into her throat, he wouldn't, Jack couldn't - She remembered Jack, younger but just as determined, leaping across the table in the Great Hall, waving his wand in an attempt to help Kes. A true Hufflepuff, someone had once remarked, he would do anything to protect his friends.
Suddenly Hazel was moving forward, throwing herself towards Markus - someone had died tonight - as green light seemed to jet past her face. She was too late. The curse hit the lion animagus directly in the chest, and Hazel was barely aware of the scream that ripped from her throat, the resulting flash of spells directed at Kes, the roar of the blue flames around them. Markus's face, unusually serious, seemed to smooth out, to empty of emotion as he fell limply onto the stone floor. She was too late. Too late, too late, too late - Markus couldn't be dead, gone, no, no he couldn't die, not like this - Jack had killed Markus, he killed him, Merlin, Markus was dead, how could this happen, this couldn't be happening.
What little strength she had was stripped from her as Hazel fell, sobbing, against Markus's chest - still warm, not quite dead but already gone, already dead, killed - letting the shock and grief rip through her body. She didn't see Miranda and Henry, eyes blazing with tears, shooting countless spells at Kestis, who desperately tried to block them. She didn't see Jack stumble back in horror, or the Aurors that moved continuously closer to the center of the tomb. She didn't feel herself being pulled back as Henry, visibly shaking, grabbed both a distraught Miranda and Markus - Markus's body - to disapparate with the small portkey. She didn't see Edward vanish, or the expression on Ridgeway's face as the blue flames shot outwards violently, towards the boy who had killed Markus and the encroaching Aurors.
He's dead, he's dead, Jack killed him, you have to go, come home, Hazel, Markus is dead. Hazel shakily pushed herself to her feet, a mantra of pain and panic and disbelief running through her mind. No, no, no, this isn't possible. She was too late. Barely able to stand, Hazel finally looked up; only her, Ridgeway, and Kestis were left in the circle. Ridgeway stood somewhere behind her, and though she couldn't see his expression, she could practically feel the emotions rolling off of the wizard in heavy waves. Kestis, her precious, gentle, kind Kes, who had attacked her friends and lied - he had stepped through the flames, why? - was hunched over with his hands wrapped around his throat, face red. He looked as if he'd been choked and was just now recovering, eyes shimmering and body shaking with coughs. This isn't right, how could this be right? How could this happen? She was too late.
Hazel felt fresh tears spill down her face as she stared at her beloved; she knew what she had to do, where she had to go, who she had to follow. This has to be the right thing, Markus is dead because of you, Hazel. Stepping forward, softly, quietly, the witch placed her hand on his cheek and tried to smile. "I-I'm sorry, K-Kes," She almost whispered, breath catching in her throat. Sadly, gently, Hazel leaned forward to press her lips against his in a gentle kiss. Is this goodbye? Is this it? "Goodbye." she whispered as she took two steps back to stand beside Ridgeway. Thumbing the small badge in her hand, eyes stuck on the figure in front of her, Hazel Cross tried to smile one last time for him before disappearing from the ruins of the LeStrange Tomb and the tragedy that had unfolded.