Chapter Thirty-Three: The Dark Side of the Moon, Again

"Are you going to kill me?"

The Dark Mark-the Dark Lord's mark-hung in the sky like a ghost, reminding the world below of the terrors that had occurred because of its creator.

Time slowed as the chaos around them ensued: curious passerby glanced up at the night sky, observing the strange skull and snake omen; screams were heard in the distance calling for friends and loved ones; howling animals sensed the danger. Rosalind's breathing was heavy, taken aback at what she had done. They were running out of time.

Faint pops and loud cracks surrounded her, several members of the Ministry and Order Apparating before her eyes: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Bowen, the Weasleys, Neville, Luna, Dean, even Kingsley Shacklebolt-they were all there, waiting desperately for the information that she had.

"Blimey, I never thought I'd have to see that again," Ron's voice pinned at the sight of the Mark, the green aurora illuminating their faces.

"It's terrible," Hermione said in a low voice. "That it had to come to this."

Harry Potter walked through the crowd, approaching Rosalind. "What's been going on?" he asked in a desperate voice. "Where are Rodolphus and Dawlish? He was only able to partially brief me."

"They are at another part of the camp, about ten minutes away," she began as Harry groaned. "But they're here-the werewolves I mean, most of them, in these dens," she pointed at the mounds of dirt, the growling crescendoing. "They're the ones who have been responsible for all the attacks in the recent months. But the thing is they don't want to be here, they were told that they were going to go to the Ministry for them to have better rights, being classified as Beings and all," she continued as everyone's ears perked in her direction. "And they're taking their wands away, that's why they haven't left. They target the vulnerable, whether Squib, wizard or Muggle, they want people no one will miss. Once they're here, the gang members take their wands and share them between themselves. They've been told that they can become wizards if they practice hard enough."

"Hold on a moment," the Minister of Magic's booming voice shot through. "The head of these people has Muggles convinced that they can become wizards by taking wands? Who would believe that?"

"The vulnerable," Rosalind pressed, annoyed they weren't getting her point. "These people don't know any better-anything would be an improvement from where they're from. Sal Amaya-the man in charge-he has them under his thumb. And all the kids they kidnapped from Hogwarts are about to be fresh werewolf meat. They just sent men over to grab them so the werewolves can chase them down and hunt them," she finished quickly in a long, harsh breath, waiting to hear orders from Harry and Kingsley.

The Minister and the Head Auror glanced at each other, as the remaining members gasped in disbelief. Harry sent Ron and Hermione to grab people from the dens, the scared kids and young adults crawling out hesitantly. Adriana was one of the first to crawl out, with her blonde-haired friend closely behind her, bow placed delicately in her hair.

"Won-Won?" she said in a feeble voice, spotting a familiar ginger-haired man.

"L-Lavender?" Ron sputtered, face pale as he had seen a ghost. "You're alive? What happened to you?"

"Fenfir Greyback bit me at the Battle of Hogwarts," she said shamefully, grabbing his arm for support out of the den. "I couldn't go home, not after that-I ended up finding a pack to join and I ended up here." She scrunched her face, eyes swelling with tears. "It's been t-t-terrible!" she cried, throwing herself into her ex-boyfriend's arms, Hermione frowning as she helped others, hurrying them out before the clouds uncovered the moon. Before Lavender could get in another word, she was removed by one of the members of the Ministry on Harry's orders.

"H-Harry," a worried Bowen spoke up, "the clouds are moving, we don't have any more time-"

A piercing, primitive howling came from the thicket; the clouds had uncovered the full moon, its milky-white face beaming into the night. Lavender, Adriana and the other werewolves dropped to the ground, convulsing, their backs twitching in the most gruesome angles, about to transform. They were salivating heavily, backs hunching as their clothes ripped, their teeth elongated, their eyes glowing yellow. There was nothing they could do. It was impossible to stop a werewolf mid-transformation.

"RUN!"

In what felt like slow motion, dozens of bodies scattered throughout the darkening forrest, some seeking refuge, others attacking the intruders, others running away to warn the others at the remaining camps. It was a strange, violent sight: the closer the wizards got to the camps, the more weaponry was fired at them; bullets flew in their direction, some enchanted to chase their targets, others fired blindly; splatters of blood streamed out of bodies, knocking them back several feet. Booming cracks echoed throughout the night, the growls of famished werewolves searching for their next meals.

Rosalind sprinted back to the camp in search of Sal to make sure he wasn't running away like a coward. She needed to be alive. With her wand in hand, she looked around for any signs of him, searching the grounds and his tent. His guards were missing, most likely escorting him to safety or to fight. She slipped inside, the deafening battle noises gone. His tent was eerily quiet; she could hear her heartbeat echoing through her chest. Faint whispers floated from the corner of the tent, hushed voices inhaling sharply. Rosalind approached the edge of the tent slowly, her wand drawn. She lifted the flap quickly, bracing herself for what was hiding behind it.

"N-no!"

Rosalind held her breath in surprise, staring blankly at the sight in front of her: half a dozen women, several younger than her were crowding in the corner, their tattered clothing barely covering them, their hands in the air in surrender. Their eyes were frightful, frozen in the thought of what Rosalind could do to them. Her heart broke when she realized what they were and how scared they were of another human being present. None of them were armed, none of them had wands or weapons, all were bound at the ankles.

Rosalind's hand shook as she lowered her wand, raising her hands to show she was weaponless. "Are you okay?" she asked slowly in plain English. The women's frightened faces glanced at one another in confusion. They all stared at each other for a long moment, as Rosalind switched to Spanish.

"Estan lastimadas?" she asked as the majority of them shook their heads. "Do you know where you are?"

"No, we don't know anything," what looked like the oldest woman said.

"What?" Rosalind struggled to hold her tongue. "You are in England. You have been here for quite some time," she said hesitantly, not wanting to scare them. The women glanced at each other again, puzzled. Rosalind held out her hand to them, offering help. "My name is Rosalind Morana, I work for the government. I am here to help you." She spoke in a soft, authoritative tone as she assisted the women to their feet, leading them to the tent's opening, where they suddenly stopped.

The oldest shook her head. "No! We can't go out there. H-he said that if we step outside something bad will happen to us."

"Oh," Rosalind said crestfallen but unsurprised. The way this man had so many people brainwashed...it was ridiculous. "That's not true. He's lying to you," she said reassuringly. "He said that so you would be afraid to leave. Everything will be okay, I promise. They won't be able to hurt you anymore." She smiled gently, waiting several seconds to gain their trust. She opened the tent to the skirmish outside, causing them to cower again.

"No! No! Don't be scared!" Rosalind said as she cast a protective shield charm around the group. "I'm here to get you out of here," she said, thinking quickly. "Follow me!" She motioned for them to follow her as she deflected spells and bullets headed their way, leading them to another tent. The women held onto each other tightly as Rosalind ushered them into the tent she shared with Rodolphus. She cast more protective charms around the area as she urged the group to help themselves to biscuits and coffee.

"Help yourselves, we are getting you out of here," she said as the women sat on the cot. Her heart ached at how worn down they were: famished, greying, frail, scared. She watched them closely, clearing your throat. "Are there others like you here?" she asked. "Do you know where they are?" They nodded their heads, saying they kept people hidden in tents. That's what Rosalind was hoping for-she could look for Sal at the same time. She ordered the women to stay put, running to the next set of tents. Most were empty, some had men and women held inside that she aided back to her tent. But as many places that she looked into and as many of Sal's men she battled, Sal was nowhere in sight.

Rosalind doubled over, clutching a stitch in her side. She felt like she had been running for an hour back and forth with no results. There were so many people and so much chaos she had barely seen any of her colleagues. She stood at the top of a hill, observing the horrific, strange scenes playing out in front of her: wizard, Muggle and beast fought on, tearing each other's throats. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was doing what they could to contain the werewolves and take them into a safe zone. At the edge of the forest was a familiar hunched back wielding something in his hand. Sal Amaya was without his guards.

Rosalind sucked in a short breath, sprinting towards him. She was several yards away, watching as Sal twirled a machete in his right hand, a wand in his left, with a wand a few feet in front of him on the ground and another body, face sliced at the cheek. Angelina Johnson was on the wooded forest floor, deciding between grabbing her wand or risking another blow. Rosalind stood frozen, gripping her own wand tighter. Her heart began to beat rapidly, thudding against the knot in her throat. Sal raised the machete again, as Angelina winced.

Just let her die, the sinister voice whispered in her ear. You know that he'll do it.

I can't, she thought frantically, a wave of anger bubbling inside her. That wouldn't be right.

The voice laughed cruelly. You don't ever do the right thing. You do the selfish thing. It's who you are. Rosalind snapped her eyes shut as Sal was ready to strike, his body covered in blood. She took him away from you.

George. It was odd thinking about him in such a time. But Angelia wasn't the reason they were together. She was.

Rosalind's arm was shaking as she found herself raising her wand at the pair's direction. Her body began to shake in anger, but it wasn't at Angelina. It was towards herself and at Sal-at herself for thinking an innocent person should die for her own personal gain, and at Sal for being a scum of the earth.

Let her die.

She pulled her elbow back, her wand at eye level, thrusting her arm forward, a flint shooting out, traveling the remaining meters and burying itself into the back of Sal's shoulder, slowly wiggling its way through the other end of his body.

His body slammed onto the hard, icy ground, the snow painted in blood. A pair of murderous eyes met hers, burning with hatred, barely snatching the wand on the ground.

"Fight back!" Rosalind screamed to the man on the ground. "Fight back COBARDE!"

Her breathing slowed as she waited for Sal to shoot her with a curse. He stuttered out a few words, but to no effect-not even a whisp of air. His hands were shaking as Rosalind whipped her wand in the direction of the snowy floor, the tip of her wand flaming as she stood over his body.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said as Angelina looked on, waiting for a opportunity to grab her wand. "You're not even a wizard?" She looked at the wand in his hand and back at her own. "What the hell are you? A Squib?" Sal shook his head, half a grimace on his face. "ANSWER ME!" she yelled, the snow melting into a puddle from her flames.

"My brother," he replied in a low voice, forcing Rosalind to lean in closer. "He was a wizard." His voice was faint, his body fighting the curse. "Why couldn't I be one too?" He growled, unable to move, the arrow still forcing its way through his shoulder, causing him to cry out.

"What?" she said dumbfounded. "How could you?" Sal groaned as the arrow finally exited through the front of his body, disintegrating into dust. He clutched the open wound as Rosalind's wand continued to melt the snow, streaks of blood splattered all over his body from the skirmish.

"Y ahora que?" he said in a deadly calm. "Are you going to kill me?"

She stared at him, flames pulsing, her heart thundering against her chest. She despised Sal and everything he stood for, and even more so that she found the poor women trapped throughout the camp. If anyone deserved to die, it was Sal. Killing him would be too easy.

She lowered her wand, the flames from the tip extinguishing. "You deserve a lot worse than death."

She shook her head, finally looking over at Angelina, who was scrambling to grab her wand, giving Rosalind a crazed look before running off into the forest. A familiar scream jerked her head to the right. Her little sister Emma was running away from a man holding a machete, two others wielding rifles. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she sprinted in her direction-there was no way she could reach her in time. She Stunned the man with the rifle, forcing the bullets to lodge into his calf as he dropped his weapon.

"Emmy-!"

But it was too late; flashes of silver and red clawed at one another as the little girl screamed in horror. A body knocked Rosalind over, standing in front of Emma, shielding her, deflecting the bullets that were ricocheting around them, disarming the man with the machete. With one final blow, the wizard Stunned the men, leaving them unconscious-or dead-on the cold, frozen snow.

Draco Malfoy kneeled, holding the girl as she wept, her staccato breathing fogging up her glasses.

"Emmy!" Rosalind cried, forgetting she was still in disguise. "It-it's me!" she stuttered as Emma looked at her confused, then back at Draco.

"It's alright, it's your sister," Draco said reassuringly. "She has been working undercover for the Ministry and has been in disguise." The girl glanced up at Draco, then into the auburn eyes in front of her.

"Sissy," she said softly. "I thought I was never going to see you again."

Rosalind's eyes swelled with tears as she pulled her sister in a tight embrace. "Me too but you don't have to worry now," she said as the tears flowed from her eyelashes onto her sister's shoulder. "Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?"

She shook her head, wiping her cheeks with her sweater. "N-no they didn't hurt me they just kept us locked up for a long time."

Rosalind sighed, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. She stood to face Draco. "Thank you," she said looking into his pale grey eyes. "I don't know what I would've done if I lost her."

Draco smiled, that genuine grin that he rarely showed. "She's your whole world. I know how much she means to you." His voice was calm and reassuring, something she had not felt in a long time. She touched his arm, a warm, comforting feeling overcoming them . Rosalind cracked a smile, first at Draco then at her sister. "You're safe now," she said, hugging her sister again, blinking through the tears. "It's over."

UNDERCOVER MINISTRY OFFICERS AND FORMER DEATH EATER WORK TOGETHER TO BUST NOTORIOUS GANG

It has been released to the press that officer for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Rosalind Morana, Auror John Dawlish, and former Death Eater Rodolphus Lestrange, who was previously imprisoned in Azkaban for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, were sent to work undercover to bust an international gang wreaking havoc the last several months. After receiving information that recent werewolf attacks were linked with other criminal activity, Head Auror Harry Potter sent the Death Eater along with his best Auror, and eventually American and Spanish-speaking newcomer Morana. Morana's younger sister-whom she is raising-was kidnapped, along with several Hogwarts students, including the children of other Ministry officials.

Dozens of bodies were recovered at a campground where notorious gang members from El Salvador had been keeping hostages, from the kidnapped Hogwarts children, men, women, and werewolves. Hundreds of thousands of Galleons worth of Muggle and wizard contraband were detected, with the head of the gang, Sal Amaya, in serious condition in St. Mungo's.

"Through the hard work of our department we were able to track down the gang and stop them before it was too late," Potter stated at a press conference. "We got everyone home safe, and at the end of the day that is all that matters to us. It was a job well done."

Rosalind forced a smile as she flipped through the pages of the Daily Prophet, first from seeing her coworkers across the top of the front page, then at her own smiling face from the interview she gave. She was hesitant but Hermione insisted it was a good idea.

"Who's that on the front page?" Draco asked, taking a slow sip from his coffee mug. "You reckon I should send her an owl, take her on a date?" He grinned as Rosalind rolled her eyes.

"I don't know, she could be seeing someone," she said playfully as Draco nudged her with his elbow.

"I am very persuasive," he continued. "And I doubt she'd find another bloke that looks better than I do."

Rosalind laughed, looking into his stormy eyes. "You never know."

Draco smiled, his face softening, his hand caressing her knee. "Be with me, Rose." It wasn't a question, but he wasn't demanding an answer either.

Rosalind's eyes darted to the floor before meeting Draco's again. He had been treating her differently since she came home. "I like the way things are right now," she said in a pained voice. "With everything that just happened-I don't feel quite myself yet."

Draco sighed dramatically before taking another gulp of coffee. "I know," he said slowly. "I'll still be here." He gave her that longing smile of his that she loved.

A long moment passed between them sending a flood of butterflies through Rosalind's stomach. She truly cared about Draco, but she was still on edge after returning from the undercover work. She had barely been able to sleep, constantly tossed and turned, was jumpy and irritable, and felt like she was in a fog.

She cleared her throat as more bodies walked into the room. They were back at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Office, awaiting the arrival of the Auror's Office and members of the Order. The department was decorated in streams of glitter and wreaths, leftover Christmas decorations. The little old lady from the cafeteria brought in a tray of cookies, pies and desserts while the guests were arriving for the belated office holiday party. Several people from other departments that Rosalind had never seen before stopped by to congratulate her on the bust, which she found strange. It was odd how people knew who she was now.

Rosalind bit into a frosted snickerdoodle cookie on her way back to her desk, spotting George walking hand in hand with Angelina. It didn't hurt to see them, not even when George didn't take a glance at her. But she felt a small comfort knowing that she didn't feel anything towards them at all. She paused for a moment, hoping that Angelina would acknowledge her and the fact that she had saved her life. But she didn't. Instead she gazed into George's eyes lovingly, as he smiled back at her with closed lips. She sighed, uncorking the champagne bottle as the room cheered, designating herself to champagne pouring duty until the rest of the crowd showed up.

"Cheers," she said as she raised her glass, standing next to Draco and Ron, who were tuning out an excited Hermione, who was rambling about the werewolf reform.

"...you believe this, that after years of advocation the Ministry has finally listened?" she exclaimed as a busboy walked by with a tray of chocolate covered strawberries, plopping one in her mouth. "They're finally going to stop being classified as Beings! They are people after all-"

Rosalind gulped more champagne, looking over at the pair of men having a discussion in the corner. Rodolphus and Neville were having a heated conversation that she couldn't hear but she already knew what it was about-the Prophet article. It looked like he was apologizing to Neville personally, a surprising gesture. Eventually both men nodded, shaking hands and giving each other a pat on the back. Maybe Rodolphus had changed or maybe he was just keeping appearances, but he was not the man she had initially thought. She raised her glass in his direction, an action he reciprocated.

Harry and the remaining Aurors entered, giving thanks and raising their glasses in a toast. Rosalind was thankful she wasn't asked to give one. Her mind had gone blank the majority of the day. She excused herself and stepped into the hall, clutching her cloak against her chest from the bitter draft. Still, she sat on the floor at the end of the hallway, drowning out the noise from the party.

"Why so glum?" a friendly voice asked.

Rosalind glanced up to see Neville holding pumpkin pasties. "Nothing really, it's just loud in there."

Neville frowned, taking a seat next to her and handing her a pasty. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She attempted at a nod, thanking him for the pasty. "I don't know how to go back to normal."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean-when I was at that camp I drank a potion to get initiated. It-it was awful…" Her voice trailed off as she flashed back to the agonizing memories. "I relived the worst, most terrible memories of my life. They were played out in front of me like a Muggle film." She ripped away a chunk of pasty as Neville listened intently. "And it became so clear to me. I'm a product of the bad choices I've made because of something terrible that happened to me long ago." She shook her head in disappointment. "I became so angry I allowed it to consume me. But I've been angry for so long that I don't know how to turn it off."

The corner of Neville's mouth curled as he offered an arm in sympathy. "It's not too late for you. You can always get help."

"How?"

"Here at the Ministry of course," he said brightly. "I did take quite some time off to travel the world, but after I was hired as an Auror I started seeing the psychologist before I started. I was on desk duty and going to twice weekly sessions to better prepare myself for the job. It's all Hermione's idea, she pushed for mental health services after the war."

Rosalind's brow furrowed as she looked up at her friend. "We have that option?"

"I don't think too many people know about it honestly," he added. "I didn't tell anyone I was in therapy because I thought it was a bit embarrassing. But I have been learning to cope and it's made me much more confident in my Auror skills."

"You're already a great Auror, Neville."

"Well yeah," he said as his ears reddened. "But I had to work hard for it. Maybe it'd do you some good too."

She nodded, taking in the new information. Merlin knows she needed help. She needed help a long time ago. She ripped off another chunk of pumpkin pasty, chewing slowly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How did you forgive them? Bellatrix and Rodolphus, I mean. What they did to your parents is awful."

Neville's ears flushed a deeper pink as he scratched his nose. "Well I didn't really have a choice, did I?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well the way I saw it, I could continue to be miserable like I had my whole life or I could move on." He swallowed his last bit of pasty. "Moving on has made me much happier. I hope to live up to my parents' legacies some day."

"Wow," she said observing him. "I never thought about it that way. I used the anger to get me through the day because it was all I ever felt."

Neville gave her a small smile. "It takes time. Eventually it'll feel like it was ages ago."

Rosalind returned his smile. "Thank you Neville. I'll look into it."

He grinned, taking her hand and helping her up. "Let's head back inside before Malfoy thinks we're snogging."

Rosalind laughed, freeing up her lungs. "He wishes I would snog him at work."

Draco's eyes locked with hers as she entered the room, making her feel at ease. He grinned, raising his glass towards her, a familiar scent of cigar and whiskey filled her nostrils.

"I'm slightly disappointed our marriage has to be on pause so soon."

She turned around to see a clean-shaven Rodolphus Lestrange, handing her a glass of champagne.

"You're the best fake husband I could've asked for," she said taking it with a sip. "What's going to happen to you now?"

He shrugged, throwing whiskey down his throat. "Dunno. Dawlish has the luxury of keeping an eye on me for the time being until my first hearing. I'm leaving soon to see Daph and Ares." He grabbed another firewhiskey from a passing tray. "I know they'll be in good hands with you."

"Daphne and I will raise him, like lovers."

"Love each other all you want, just don't forget to let me back in once I'm out," he winked, leaning against the stone wall, observing her. "You should've killed him when you had the chance."

"And become your cellmate in Azkaban? No thanks."

Rodolphus barked out a laugh. "You're right. You'd get eaten alive with his little friends in there." His head swayed as he grinned. "Take care of yourself, Morana." The corners of her mouth lifted as he eyed Dawlish, nodding for the pair to leave. She watched them depart, alone again, pondering her conversation with Neville. She had spoken to very few people about her life, let alone a professional. Perhaps it was what she needed.

"Walk with me." Draco stood to his full height, taking her hand and directing her into the hallway. They took slow steps in synch down the corridor, the torches dancing firelight before their faces. He stopped them below one of the torches, the dim light accentuating his features, his eyes dark with worry.

"It's what you saw when you drank that potion, isn't it?" he said in a low voice. "That's what you keep thinking about?"

She nodded, assuming Rodolphus had told him. "I can't get it out of my head." She lowered her head, her mouth trying to keep pace with her brain. "It was worse than I could've imagined-literally my worst nightmare. Except it was all things I've actually done." She stared off into the dim corridor before meeting his gaze. "I can't change what I did. I don't want to be that person anymore."

Draco lifted her chin, his thumb caressing her face. "You're not." Her eyes searched his as they heard footsteps approaching. "Longbottom's got a point. You should take his advice and see the psychologist."

"How'd you-"

Draco laughed, dropping his hand. "Are you ever going to take up Occlumency? That's why you're a lousy Legilimens."

"Is that why?" she said frowning. "And here I thought it was just you knowing me well now."

He grinned. "I know all of you more than anyone else ever will."

Rosalind smiled, jerking her head, hearing her name in the distance. A harried Hermione was walking briskly in their direction. "Come, Rosalind! It's urgent-" she grabbed her by the hand before she had time to react, knocking a large oak door open into Harry's office. He was in his leather chair, with Ron, Bowen, and two other Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers she had only seen in passing standing with grim expressions on their faces.

"What's going on?" she asked, immediately succumbing to their looks.

Harry leaned forward, elbow resting on his desk. "Sal Amaya just died."

"From what?"

"He lost too much blood." He sighed, taking a look at his Aurors and officers. "A couple of his high-ranking cronies died as well. They were all key witnesses to his case, and to determine the depth of his damage here." He pursed his lips, looking up at Rosalind. "You were the last person seen with him."

Rosalind's stomach dropped. "Harry I didn't-"

"I still have to ask. Did you kill him?"

Her mouth hung from shock. She looked to Hermione, who had a pained expression on her face. "No!" she squeaked, her hands shaking. "I didn't kill him!" No one dared breathe, the other officers staring on with pale faces. "He attacked Angelina Johnson and she was without a wand-when he wouldn't fight back he told me he was a Muggle-"

"He was a Muggle?" Hermione said quietly. "You attacked a Muggle?"

"I didn't know!" she cried, tears pooling from her eyes. "None of us knew! They kept magic hidden as much as possible-"

Harry raised his hand, silencing her. "Kingsley sent word to me moments ago. The Special Task Force is on their way to arrest the three of you."

"Arrest us-"

"I tried to stop it," he said gravely. "It's out of my hands." He looked to her, his glasses cracked from the fight. "I'm sorry, Rosalind. To all of you."

Her heart raced as the oak doors burst open, several figures in dark robes storming in, grabbing the other offices and escorting them out. She barely had time to react as the biggest man forced her arms behind her back, invisible cuffs binding her.

"Rosalind Morana," he said gruffly. "You are under investigation for the death of Sal Amaya."

Dun dun dun! This was actually the ending of my first upload of this story but it was much different. Neville had a smaller role overall and Rosalind actually did kill Sal and she's sent off to Azkaban. But several chapters into the sequel I realized it wasn't enough for a true sequel and it was no longer the direction I intended, and I ended up scrapping them both. So instead, our story continues on for now. Thank you so much to those who have been reading! :)

Next chapter: Fame Infamy