1933
"Do you regret it?" Corvus asked, his head propped up on one elbow as he gazed down at her. They were lying in bed after a long day of nothing of consequence.
"Regret what?" she questioned absentmindedly, still buzzed from the activities they'd been partaking in mere minutes ago.
"Not joining Dumbledore," he answered, brushing some stray hair out of her eyes. "And letting the duelling skills you spent years training for go to waste."
"I'm not a great duellist, or even a good one," she responded, smiling wryly. "You know that. What's the point in throwing myself into a fight when the only way I'm going to win is by taking a form that I despise?"
"Not everyone on Grindelwald's side is a good duellist. I think you should reconsider."
"I think you should reconsider." He looked at her, apparently confused. She turned on her side to fully face him, the covers sliding off her shoulder. "Unlike me, you've got raw power, the likes of which I've only seen from Grindelwald himself."
"But that was because of my Obscurus," he said, his eyes drifting towards what had just been uncovered by her movement.
"Corvus!" she chided, blushing as she pulled the covers up. He averted his gaze, muttering an apology. "As I was saying, you were chosen by Grindelwald to eliminate Dumbledore who is said to be Grindelwald's only equal. Even without your Obscurus, you're as powerful as two of the greatest wizards in the world."
Corvus didn't speak, stroking her long ebony hair. She could only guess what he was thinking. He no doubt felt inadequate. His whole life he'd been searching for his true identity, only to have his hopes dashed by Leta the first time and by her the second time. The blow she'd inflicted on him was undoubtedly the worse of the two; he'd only suspected that he was Corvus Lestrange for a few weeks but he'd been outright told that he was Aurelius Dumbledore and had believed it for years. He murmured something, stirring her from her thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"This was never my fight."
She frowned. He stopped playing with her hair, letting his hand drop onto her bare shoulder. "And exactly what fight would that be, Corvus? Hmm?" she implored, watching as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"A fight between Albus Dumbledore and Grindelwald, as it's always been..." he trailed off, sounding somewhat amused. She sighed, shaking her head on her pillow.
"Do you think the Scamanders are fighting for Dumbledore?" she inquired, exasperation seeping into her voice. "Do you think Grindelwald's acolytes are fighting for him?" Corvus remained silent, though he still looked bewildered. "Think about it, Credence."
The name was out of her mouth before she realised it when she saw him stiffen up and saw his eyes widen slightly. She didn't apologise for the slip of tongue nor did she correct herself, opting to turn away from him instead. She never slept with her back to him, it felt far too distant, but then again, she never called him by the 'wrong' name either.
.:. QK .:.
She forced herself to laugh at something Tina said, a strange sense of sadness sweeping over her. Tina had dropped by about twenty minutes ago, having spent the last few hours in the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France.
"What's wrong?" She almost jumped, looking up to see Tina staring at her in concern. "Have you fought with Cre—Corvus?"
She smiled at Tina's slip up, remembering her own not so long ago. "No, not more than usual. I just feel... emotional... and tired."
"I know what you mean," Tina said, briefly touching her abdomen. It was momentary, lasting for about a second or two, and she pulled her hand away almost immediately, but not before she noticed. She'd seen Jemila often do the same thing when she was carrying her son and a little less so when carrying her now two-year-old daughter.
"Tina...?" she trailed off, raising an eyebrow.
"We were waiting for three months to pass. My mother in law doesn't believe in telling anyone other than family and close friends before that," she stated, rolling her eyes. She felt her heart drop at close friends, and it must've shown on her face because Tina scrambled to explain herself. "If you lived in England, I would've told you as soon as I was sure. Newt and I still wanted to tell you but it's not exactly something we'd want to put in a letter."
Feeling her spirits lift again, she nodded. Letters between herself and her British friends were still susceptible to being intercepted even though Corvus hadn't been affiliated with Grindelwald since 1931.
"When do you expect it to be born?"
From the way Tina suddenly frowned, it didn't seem like she liked her child being referred to as it. She couldn't help it, though. She'd never been particularly fond of children and didn't like being around any of them except the Kama children who didn't really count because they were her (step) 'niece' and 'nephew'.
"He will be born in May, hopefully," the dark-haired Auror replied, positively beaming. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for talking to her pregnant friend in such a manner.
"He?" Tina nodded, cradling her abdomen again. "You're so lucky."
Tina looked up at her, appearing to be offended. "What do you mean? I'd be just as happy with a girl."
"No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" she protested quickly, flapping her hands about. "My kind would die for sons. Well, I mean my ancestors would've. I'm the only one left and I'm not so stupid to risk everything like they did." She mentally apologised to her foremothers.
"Oh," Tina let out, evidently surprised. "How many succeeded in having a son?"
"According to my mother? Just the one."
"And the rest of you have all been daughters?" She nodded. "How many generations is that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I think I'm the twentieth generation, at least." Tina appeared to be shocked. "The first of our line was a concubine who was cursed by her lord's wife. It was after the Joseon Dynasty took over and declared that second wives wouldn't have the same rights as first wives but that they would be mere concubines and their children would be illegitimate. The wife vowed that the concubine and all of her daughters would suffer every night until they eventually lost their minds. My foremother found out exactly what the curse meant that very night but she had no choice but to bear her lord some children. They were all daughters. The cycle of concubinage kept repeating and my kind kept propagating until they realised that there was no cure for our affliction. They controlled themselves after that, running away from their lords either while pregnant with their first and only child or without becoming pregnant at all.
"They started to die out but a few generations down the line, one of my foremothers birthed a son. None of us had ever done that before and they'd all assumed that our kind were incapable of bearing sons. Only three remained in human form at the time: the son's mother, her firstborn, and a distant cousin. The daughter had child after child but they were all girls. The cousin forced the son to father her children, thinking he could give her sons because he himself was the only son born to one of us. All of their children were girls. She lost hope and threw herself and her small daughters into a ravine while their father helplessly watched on. After the tragic end to his family, the son begged his sister to stop propagating and she agreed. In time, she taught her daughters to stay away from men. Unfortunately, the fourth daughter took her own life because she was tired of her miserable existence. The other five daughters exiled themselves to a forest and four of them died childless. The youngest of all strayed from her intended path and used a passerby to become pregnant. She was my direct ancestor.
"The greed for a son continued but each Maledictus restricted herself to one child. Eventually, my mother was born. She was wise, far wiser than all those who came before her, and she decided that she would be the last of our line. I think, at some point, she realised that a circus performer like my grandmother permanently transformed well before a normal Maledictus. My grandmother turned at thirty-four but the normal age was somewhere in the forties. My mother threw herself into similar work and reached the age of twenty-four without even letting herself look at a man—our kind usually reproduce at fifteen years of age—but she forgot that her snake charmer was also a man. He somehow found out what she really was and how the curse propagated. He forced me into existence. He wanted to use me and the siblings he'd planned for me to generate more money for him in the snake charming business.
"And now, I'm the last one. My mother never said it but judging from my upbringing, I know she wanted me to be the last of our kind. I also became a circus performer, like my grandmother, not knowing that I'd later want to live for as long as I could. In any case, I surpassed my mother's abstinence record by never looking at a man until I was twenty-six and, unlike her, I will die without producing children."
"I'm so sorry," Tina cooed, making her feel a spike of irritation but she controlled herself. Tina was giving her a pitiful look. She hated pity.
"It is what it is," she commented bitterly, turning away from Tina's burning gaze and glancing out of the window, doing a double take when she spotted something. In the distance, she could see Albus Dumbledore fast approaching.
.:. QK .:.
After Tina and Dumbledore left, she followed Corvus to the library. He'd distanced himself from her ever since she'd called him by the name he hated, only seeing her when they took their meals together, and not inviting her to his bed or climbing into hers. She'd regretted it soon after but she couldn't bring herself to apologise. Whether he liked it or not, Credence was his most real name. It was the name given to him by the bitch who'd raised him whereas Aurelius had been a fake name and Corvus was a dead baby's name. However, she wouldn't call him by that name again. She didn't want to upset him further (and she didn't want to be a Mrs Barebone).
"What did Dumbledore want?" she asked, standing in front of the desk he was sitting behind. He peered up at her.
"He wants to live here for a while," he answered, tenting his fingers. She blinked. This was the last thing she'd expected even though Corvus had once offered their home as a safe house to Dumbledore right in front of her. "Him and his close allies. That includes the Scamanders and some of the British Aurors. Flamel's house has been compromised."
She sighed, recalling the drama that occurred the last time the manor house was used as a safe house. "Are you sure?"
"As long as you're okay with it," he responded, shrugging nonchalantly.
Her lips involuntarily twitched. "Me?"
He nodded slowly. "Even though you haven't been talking to me, you're still the lady of the house..."
Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't been talking to him? Since when? He was the one who'd been avoiding her. "You're the one who hasn't wanted to talk to me," she pointed out, trying to keep the childish whine out of her voice. "Understandably," she added, so as not to come off as sanctimonious.
"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," she stated, trying to remember seeking him out during the last few weeks. She couldn't think of even one instance. She frowned. In fact, she could recall a few times when she heard the creaking of floorboards near the door of various rooms she regularly spent time in, including her bedroom.
He reached over the desk for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Dot even told me she heard you crying once. I thought to give you some space after that."
As she pictured their house elf standing outside her door and listening in on her, she bit her lip to refrain from grinning like a madwoman. It wasn't funny at all, especially when Dot had obviously eavesdropped on her during one of the worst moments of her life—the moment she realised that she now had to transform every night to quell the beast inside her.
"I see," she managed to say, looking down at their entwined hands. She didn't know what else to say. She was terribly embarrassed that she'd believed Corvus would stop talking to her because of one insignificant name.
"I'll be actively helping Dumbledore from now on." Her eyes flew up to meet his and she found herself becoming inexplicably happy.
"What made you change your mind?" she implored curiously. "You said it wasn't your fight."
Standing up, he walked around the desk and gave her a brief peck. She blinked rapidly, startled. This was so out of character for him that she couldn't help but feel a little anxious considering what had happened the last time 'he' behaved unlike himself. However, she wasn't quite feeling like herself either. She wondered if there was something going around their household.
"Grindelwald tried to harm you," Corvus started, distracting her from her paranoid musings. "After the night you confronted me, I remembered what I told you after Dumbledore asked us to join him. I said I would spend time with you until I no longer could and then I'd make Grindelwald pay for what he did to us. Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of that because I didn't want to be a weapon for yet another great wizard... but you were right, no one's in this fight for Dumbledore and Grindelwald." She finally allowed her lips to curl up, nodding as she silently urged him to continue. "The Scamanders and others are in it so that their children won't have to grow up under a fascist regime and Grindelwald's followers are in it because they believe the No-Majs will destroy us if we don't destroy them first." He cupped her cheek with the hand he wasn't using to hold hers. "I'm in it for you, for me, for us."
Her eyes stung with tears as she placed her free hand on top of his. She held the tears back, giving him a bittersweet smile as he led her out of the library. Don't fight for me. Fight for yourself, she told him. I'll not be in your life for much longer.