Chapter 3 – A Witch Named Grimm
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Previously on The Forgiven: Kingsley Shacklebot began his explanation of the secret group: The Forgiven, to Hermione. It was revealed the original founders were Albus Dumbledore and Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. So far, Kingsley had been recruited as a handler while Norse had been recruited as an agent.
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I remember the turning point.
The day it all went wrong and my world took a nosedive into darker waters.
It was almost a year since Voldemort fell.
I was an Auror only thirteen years old.
The schools had an accelerated education program for those who wanted to join the fight against the Death Eaters as soon as possible. Even after the fall of the Dark Lord, I stayed on the fast paced curriculum and graduated early. When I left Hogwarts, I was picked up by the legendary Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody. At the same time, I started working as an Auror for the Ministry.
And then that day happened…
All the bad luck in the world align.
The day started off so normal. Had a bit of breakfast with Tonks, tutoring with Mad Eye, shuffled around some tedious paper when I got to work—and then we got the call.
Death Eaters killing Muggles. A lot of them. On the main roads and in broad daylight.
They shot up the Dark Sign for an exclamation point.
Maybe they wanted to send a message, maybe they wanted to demonstrate something to You-Know-Who. It hadn't been too long since he disappeared. Who knows what their reasons were, but if they wanted attention, they got it.
All the Aurors on hand were deployed. Even ones on days off got the call.
It was the biggest Death Eater incident since the war ended.
Once the Ministry started arriving on the scene, the Death Eaters broke off into little groups. They moved through the streets like skittering cockroaches. I followed mine to a heavily populated bridge.
There were three of them and five of us, and all along the walkway were innocent bystanders; muggles particularly. They didn't understand what was going on or pay us much thought. Ministry charms are a little too convenient that way. If they had run, things would've turned out a lot differently.
The Death Eaters didn't have to say anything. About twenty feet separated us. Any Muggles around were hostages for them. The stalemate lasted forever.
I was banking on us having reinforcements soon. Maybe have Ministry workers stop the Muggles from crossing bridge, and then we would just duel it out. Wouldn't have fell short. Months after he-who-must-not-be-named died, things were still pretty hectic. So despite being a newbie Auror, I had my share of hard fights already.
But it never got to that…
One of the Death Eaters—I saw something in his sneer. That reckless kind of madness that made people do stupid things—cruel things.
His comrades seemed content to keeping the Muggle passersby hostages, but not him. No, he wanted blood, and I knew that look. I'd seen witches and wizards with the same red in their eyes when they executed Muggles, Muggleborns, and half-bloods on their knees. He was either going to blow the whole bridge or catch as many people as he could with one big spell.
For a second, an odd thought came to mind.
I wondered if my mother was on that bridge. I'd tried so hard not to think about her for so long. Felt like I hadn't spared her a thought for months, but there it was. A voice in the back of my head.
It didn't factor into my decision.
I'm sure I would have done what I did either way.
The Death Eater's hand went up, and I couldn't chance any half measures. I lifted my wand and aimed center mass.
I didn't even have to think about it.
The words kind of just…fell from my lips. Like it was the coldest, most rational thing to do.
"Avada Kedavra."
Freezing sensations licked at my fingertips. I saw green light flare from my wand, blighting everyone's vision except my own. The Death Eater's pupils dilate for a moment before…
Nothing.
He fell back like a timbering tree, body stiff with rigor mortis. When he hit the floor, his limbs relaxed and his arms flopped to the sides.
It was eerie but…was it so wrong I felt nothing from it?
The man was going to kill at least twenty people. It was a for sure thing. Fact, not assumption. I saw the cues, read the body language. Mad Eye's teachings confirmed the same thing my intuition shouted.
And then the remaining two Death Eaters looked at their comrade's dead body. They reacted, they were in a panic. Their wands went up and I saw their mouths forming the words…
But I was faster.
"Avada Kedavra."
I targeted the one closest to finishing his spell.
Avada Kedavra.
I didn't even say the second one. Was able to perform it nonverbally. Goes down to the smallest fractions of a second when you don't have to incant it out loud.
They both fall and for a sliver of a moment, I thought I almost felt bad…
But it was just my imagination. I was supposed to feel bad about it. That's what my colleagues and the Ministry practically told me when they held my trial.
To regret my actions, that I should have found another way.
Maybe they wanted to crack down hard on crimes, especially when the Unforgivable Curses were concerned. The Ministry got a lot of bad publicity for legalizing it during the War. Could be they were suppressed by the Dark Lord for so long they wanted to do some stretching.
Barty Crouch was gunning for the Minister chair. Ironic considering, he was originally the one who pushed for lethal force use in the first place. Maybe he was trying to save his image.
Whatever the reason, they gave me two options: life sentence in Azkaban or the death penalty.
You'd think it was illegal to put an axe to a teenager's neck or serve them with eternal imprisonment, but I became a certified adult once I signed up to be an Auror.
Loopholes. They were the bane and the foundation of my existence. This one wouldn't be the last one exploited in my life either.
The night before I was to announce my decision to the Ministry, I got a little visit from Mad Eye…
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I was brought to a visitation room, my wrists chained to a table. Even though I couldn't see them, I could feel the Dementors waiting outside the doors. Through solid concrete, they hounded me.
Everyone was right. Azkaban did suck.
The doors on the opposite side of the room opened and Moody came in. Eye whirring like crazy, he sat down on the other end of the table.
"Grimma."
"Mad Eye."
"Well, how are you faring?"
"What do you think? Dark hooded bastards trying to suck up all my bright, sparkling memories out of me. You know—cause I have soooo many of them."
Moody cracked a smile.
"I see. At least you've still got your mouth and your sarcastic sense of humor."
"Thank goodness they can't take that away."
"Heh! I'll make sure to tell everyone you're doing alright then."
"Yeah…" I hesitate for a second. "How's Tonks?"
"Devastated. You can imagine."
That was the worst part in all this. I didn't care much about being imprisoned. Cared even less about killing three Death Eaters, who would have otherwise slaughtered a herd of innocent people.
No, it was Tonks that broke my heart.
I tried not to think about it.
"So what are you here for? Can't imagine you doing this just to check up on me. Must've pulled a lot of strings."
Mad Eye eyed me like he was studying a book. Gave me the same stare down he did when he first took me on as an apprentice. Also did it the first time we met and slapped me across the face afterwards. Probing for weakness, fear, and, I think—potential.
"Do you regret it? Killing those Death Eaters?" he asked in that gruff voice of his.
"You know I don't."
"What made you do it?"
"They were going to slaughter those Muggles and the Aurors with me."
"You don't know that."
"I do! That's what I've seen them do! It's what you've taught me to do! I saw their next move as clear as day and I stopped it. Are you going to tell me I was wrong?!"
"You were."
Those simple words made my world freeze over. For a brief moment, my determination waned and doubt entered.
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…But only for a moment.
"Then you can piss off."
"…"
He glared at me and I glared back. Not a word spoken between us for a long breath.
"…This is a test, isn't it?"
"Maybe I taught you too well," he grinned.
"Should consider teaching at Hogwarts. 'Professor Mad Eye Moody', that would be something. Teach those kids some real defense against the dark arts."
"Har har."
The mood lightened.
"Then you don't believe I was wrong?"
"No, I doubt you'd make such a foolish mistake. I reckon those Death Eaters had it coming."
"You would have done the same, I think."
"Without question. You did well, and I don't say that a lot."
"So why the test?"
He paused and looked down. He seemed hesitant; ashamed even. I'd never seen him like that. It actually sent a small shiver down my spine.
Mad Eye looked like he was making the toughest decision of his life.
To speak or not to speak.
I wondered what was so bad to make him act like that.
"…If you're willing, when they ask you to name your punishment tomorrow—you'll ask for the death penalty."
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Moody told me about the group he, Dumbledore, and Kingsley were putting together. The next day I told the Ministry I sought the death penalty.
They were all surprised…
If you don't expect me to consider the option, then don't offer it, you bloody idiots.
Didn't have many people to say goodbye to. I rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. Didn't help that I was bitter and angry by default. Taking a law enforcement job "overly serious" in a time of peace. I had reasons for my zeal, but everyone else just saw someone looking for a fight.
Either way, not too many friends in the work place.
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Tonks came. She cried. Brought her parents too. Don't really want to talk about that.
Charlie Weasley visited with his family. Adorable loving red heads. They were good people.
The Longbottoms dropped in. Looked after me a lot in the office. Nicest couple in the world.
Professor McGonagall came as a surprise. She was always my favorite teacher; despite all the headaches I gave her. How did the saying go? The worse the student, the more lovable they were? I can't help but think if the two of us were born around the same age, we would have been the best of friends.
And lastly were the two arbiters of fate. Kingsley Shacklebot and Albus Dumbledore. Kingsley's a decent man in my book, but I always thought something was off about the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I didn't dislike him, but instinct had taught me to keep a hard steer clear of him, even while I was still in school.
And now I was putting my life in his hands.
Fate sure is a satiric bitch.
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They led me out of my cell and ported me to the Ministry to be executed.
I was to be given one final meal before they went and offed me. I remember eating the best feast I ever had in my life. Being hungry and having Dementors drain the soul out of you really added to your appetite. Something must have been in the Butterbeer because I fell asleep shortly after.
When I came to, I was in one of Moody's safe flats. An underground bunker as large as a sports stadium.
I had trained here often.
It's sound proof, detection proof, and durable as hell. Has a high enough ceiling you swear it had its own sky.
Stayed indoors for three grueling months…
Nothing but training, running the obstacle courses, and a few sparse visits from Moody, Kingsley, and Dumbledore.
It wasn't so bad.
Put on some muscle, honed my skills. I needed to be better than I was. Stronger for what would come next.
Finally, the day came when Moody gave the all clear to go outside for an hour. Gave me a crappy broom to fly. Enjoyed the brief freedom until reality hit me.
Everyone I knew, everyone who knew me…
…All their memories were now erased.
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The only ones on the planet who knew I existed were Moody, Kingsley, and Dumbledore. To ensure I could work in absolute secrecy, the three of them Obliviated my existence from everyone's memories. Besides them, only two more would know who I was.
I remember when I first met them.
Norse and Liar.
Norse was a hulking, glowing, heaven and hell be damned witch even back then. She was a year older than me, and had been an Auror too. I never worked with her, but I remember hearing the stories. Rushing into hordes of dark wizards and creatures without a shred of care. Countless infractions of insubordination. The only one she answered to was Dumbledore.
According to her family traditions, Norse took a vow of silence when she was young. Something about how actions spoke louder than words, and her family fulfilled that to its most literal sense. Took to writing floating words with her wand or using sign language to communicate.
Norse was to be our team's heavy hitter. The big gun for our fights. Did I mention one of her traditions is proving her worthiness of a seat in Valhalla? According to her, she was to display battle prowess impressive enough to earn recognition from her gods. Then, when she died, she would be welcomed into the halls of Valhalla where the greatest warriors drank, partied, and beat the ever living shite out of each other for all eternity.
Didn't sound half bad to be honest.
Norse was a Viking with a death wish. A perfect member for our little group. Gifted, morally skewed, and expendable.
Then there was Liar.
He was a gangly looking twit. A year younger than me and bearing a Dark Mark on his forearm. I'd make some quip about how unethical it was to recruit children for a homicidal army, and then I remember our side was doing the same. In any case, he wasn't a fighter, much less someone willing to sacrifice himself for a noble cause.
Liar was to be our group's spy as well as our utility man. Talented in sneaking, Apparating, stealing, memory charms, and all around mind spells. He was a skilled illusionist and had a brain for information gathering before we even started Forgiven training. If I had one word to describe him, it would be "crafty". Didn't think twice about telling him what I thought either.
"'Liar'? The name doesn't inspire much confidence."
"Nor should it, Scowly Lord Anger Face…. And what would our fearless leader's name be, so I may address you without endangering my life?"
Grimma, surfaced in my head, but not on my lips.
No.
She died already. Or practically never existed.
"Grimm. My name is Grimm."
And that's what I signed into the book:
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The Forgiven
Norse
Liar
Grimm