A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I've been really busy this past week. The tone is gonna shift again and get pretty dark, so I'm sorry in advance!
misslak: I really like the title "Queen of Anguish" haha - sounds like some band I would've listened to in middle school. The Peter x Eris x Rowan situation is gonna start coming into play soon heh. Also, I'm blown away that you like Rowan's character that much! It's seriously the highest form of compliment I could ever hope to receive! THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES OVER!
sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks for all the reviews, as always! You're the best! Sorry if you're bummed about the lack of sexiness, but there will be some eventually!
S38: Ehhhh I don't wanna give anything away, but I agree that Rowan isn't right for anyone except Remus. Also, you never have to apologize for cursing, as far as I'm concerned. I swear like a sailor haha.
"Guest...?": I don't know how to address you because you didn't sign your review! But thank you SO MUCH for reading my story! I'm also the type to not read fics unless they're completed, so I'm sorry if I tricked you haha. Lucky for you I tend to update pretty quickly, so I hope you stick with it! Thank you again! XD
On a side note: I made my BF watch Totoro for the first time, and he came away from it feeling slightly depressed b/c it made him imagine what he'd do if I were ever hospitalized like Mei and Satsuki's mother. He immediately connected with the father character and viewed the rest of the movie from his POV, whereas I've always connected mostly with Satsuki, possibly b/c I first saw it as a little girl and was the older sister to a reckless younger sibling. It made me think about what it said about our respective personalities. It has nothing to do with my story, but I found it very interesting.
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Chapter 30: Of the Masks We Wear
Rowan spent the rest of July and into August studying for her P.A.T.s and working in her makeshift laboratory at Delacroix Manor, trying to make up for the lost research. She registered for an examination date at the end of January and was feeling confident that she'd pass. She hoped that by the time she acquired her Potioneer License, she'd have enough information recovered to resume Belby's work.
After Rowan's birthday, neither she nor Remus mentioned their intimate moment. Like their Christmas kiss, it remained a secret in the dark, and in the daylight, they maintained their comfortable friendship. Sometimes, she could even fool herself into believing that it had all been a dream, but something about it left her aching. She found herself tossing and turning in the hot summer nights, imagining his lips on hers again and the heated ways he used to leave her writhing, and even her dreams often left her wanting. She was becoming increasingly frustrated with her lack of control and had even begun consciously avoiding any physical contact with Remus to try to at least prevent herself from doing anything stupid.
Though she'd momentarily entertained the idea of pursuing a physical but casual relationship with Barty, she quickly realized that she was incapable of it. She wasn't sure if it was because she couldn't separate the emotional from the physical or if it was simply because she was still too in love with Remus. She desperately wanted to be touched again, but despite not being together, the thought of being intimate with anyone else made her feel incredibly guilty. She realized rather sadly that she still wasn't ready to completely move on.
But her farcical relationship with the young Crouch remained friendly. To make up for missing her birthday night, he took her out for dinner at a trendy restaurant in the city and gave her good news of Karkaroff's approaching trial date and a large booklet full of rare and hauntingly beautiful sheet music. She thanked him warmly and promised to play for him as soon as she practiced the first piece. Barty had seemed quite pleased, and though she wanted to be excited about playing for him, the memory of Remus sitting at her kitchen table as she shared her father's melody dampened any anticipation she had about the new music. She wondered if she'd ever be able to play her violin again without thinking of him.
She mentally scowled. Would she ever be able to do anything without thinking of him?
After their drunken night, Rowan and Mina got lunch together at a café near the Ministry as they'd promised to discuss Peter's new ladylove. The memory of Eris' piercing gaze still sent cold shivers up Rowan's spine, and though she genuinely liked Peter, she was finding it very hard now to look at him without the sensation of her skin crawling. Mina apparently felt the same way.
"Can I show you something?" she asked lowly to Rowan beneath the loud chatter of the café. Rowan looked at her with mild confusion. Mina gave her a hard look.
"Something about Peter's new girlfriend rubbed me the wrong way," she said quietly. "I know you and Lupin felt something weird too." Rowan eyed her cautiously.
"I went to the library the other day and rummaged through the old newspaper archives and saw something that made me realize why she bothered me so much," she said quickly. She pulled a sheet from her bag and slid it to Rowan.
It was a newspaper clipping of a moving photo of a group of wizards and witches, all wearing Gringotts uniforms. They stood in a huge windowless room, full of countless glittering treasures. In the middle of the photo stood a young woman with a sensual mouth and dark flowing hair – Eris Eripice.
But something was off. Or perhaps it was right? The Eris in the photo moved completely differently from the one they'd met the other night. Even the way she held herself and the movement of her face was different. The one they'd met was silk and ink. This woman was movement and air. Rowan watched the figure grinning broadly at the camera, and when one of her fellow colleagues nudged her playfully in the side, she laughed openly with her head thrown back gaily. Rowan's chest stomach lurched at the stark difference.
She looked back up at Mina, who was frowning gravely at her.
"It's eerie, right - how much she looks like you?" she asked quietly. "That photo was from a Daily Prophet article from last year, and it quotes her about a collection of Egyptian treasure her team had brought in. She was a new transfer treasure hunter from Greece. I don't remember the woman we met having an accent, do you?"
Rowan frowned. "No," she answered seriously. "But isn't it possible that her English is just good enough to not speak with one? She has been here for over a year, after all," she reasoned slowly, though she wasn't convinced by her own argument.
Mina looked at her disbelievingly. "We both know you don't believe that. Something here is wrong," she said bluntly. She grimaced guiltily. "Also, I hate to say it, but a woman like that – she's quite beautiful, right? And she's a pretty high-ranking treasure hunter - those kinds of people are thrill-seekers. Why the hell would someone like her go for Peter?" she asked. "I mean, I love him to death. He's a really sweet, great guy, but this Eris Eripice could certainly do much better. Don't you think?"
Rowan also grimaced. She couldn't deny Mina's reasoning. Peter was certainly a nice man, but he wasn't the smartest and definitely not the most attractive. He wasn't particularly funny or witty or talented with his hands or wand, and though opposites often attract - Mina and Sirius were certainly evidence of that - this was pretty unbelievable. She gazed at the woman in the photograph – her smiles were warm and engaging and seemed to draw her male colleagues towards her magnetically. Why would a woman of such standing be attracted to someone like Peter Pettigrew?
"Have you mentioned this to Sirius?" she asked. Mina scowled.
"Yeah, but he got all defensive and said that I shouldn't assume so much and that people are different in relationships than they are with their colleagues," she said bitterly, mocking Sirius with a deep, stupid voice. Rowan had to smirk amusedly at it. "And obviously, I can't say anything negative about Peter to Sirius. He would never stand for it.
"I know he has a point, but everything in me is telling me that this isn't right. I know you felt it too. Please tell me you don't think I sound crazy," she whispered heatedly. Rowan had never seen those blue eyes burn so hotly.
Rowan nodded. "No, I definitely understand," she said fervently. "I felt it too. Something about her... It's wrong." Her face fell slightly.
"What should we do?" she asked weakly.
Mina's face also fell. "I don't know," she answered quietly. "I can't report her to a superior because no one else has reported anything unusual, and it'd be difficult for me to investigate her without anyone else noticing. I can mention my suspicions to Mad-Eye and hope that he bites but… I guess all we can really do for now is keep an eye on her and make sure nothing happens to Peter."
Rowan felt deflated. She nodded dejectedly. Would it really be safe to leave Peter with this woman if she was, in fact, not whom he thought her to be?
She sighed and shared an uneasy silence with Mina. They would just have to wait it out and see.
"Hello there, beautiful," Barty greeted cheerily. He stood from the table to kiss Rowan on the cheek, and she accepted it with a smile.
He had been busy at the Ministry, so she hadn't seen much of him for a couple of weeks. He insisted that he take her out for lunch to make up for it, and she couldn't refuse. She'd taken the time away from him to continue studying for her exam, and though she knew that a proper friend would miss spending time with him, she hadn't found any sort of yearning or longing. She couldn't be sure if it was a good or bad thing.
They got to talking, and he updated her with the happenings of Karkaroff's case. They'd set a trial date for January. It felt so far off, but he insisted that it was normal and that the Death Eater was being held in Azkaban in the meantime. The thought of him wallowing in the Dementors' stronghold helped ease her anxiety with a dark satisfaction.
"How are your parents doing?" she asked lightly. She eyed him cautiously and saw him flinch slightly.
Everyone with notable connections knew the Crouch family had a strained dynamic. Crouch Sr. was even more work-obsessed than her father had ever been at even his worst, and unlike her mother, Ariadne Crouch was a woman of weak will and countenance. She'd met her a couple of times throughout the years and had pitied the poor woman's inability to keep up with her husband. Even as a teenager, Rowan had overpowered the wisp of a woman, and she couldn't help but also pity her son, who obviously bore the burden of being the highly intelligent child to two highly flawed parents. She wasn't sure whom she should pity more.
"Mother is the same as always, and Father is, well... you know," he said casually, but there was a bite of bitterness there. "He's been particularly insufferable recently. I thought that perhaps working with him would give me a better understanding of him, but it's just made it worse. It's like he's making my job more miserable because I'm his son." He scowled and gazed into his tea cup. Rowan wondered what he saw in it.
"I'm really sorry to hear that," she said sympathetically. She felt slightly bad for bringing it up, but she supposed he probably didn't get to talk about it much. She'd at least had Alfred to confide her feelings in as a child when her parents had been at their worst. Did Barty have anyone of that nature? She sort of hoped she could fill that role for him.
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "You and your father – he was a very work-oriented man as well, wasn't he?" he asked carefully.
Rowan nodded. Her stomach lurched slightly at the thought of Richard. "He was. I'll admit that I resented him for a long time because of it – my mother was often depressed and lonely when I was young –, but I knew that, when it came down to it, he was a good man, and he loved us more than anything... I think the way he died confirmed that," she said quietly. She smiled gently at the thought of her father's bravery. He wasn't always attentive, but he certainly was a good father, a good man.
Barty was gazing at her with an intense heat. She couldn't read his expression, but something about it stirred a sense of unease in her stomach.
"You're very lucky," he said quietly. His eyes were still fiery. "Your mother seems like a very strong woman. She was able to be a proper partner to your father." The accuracy of his words gave her pause. She eyed him warily.
"My mother," he continued, "She's weak. She's always been weak. I honestly have no idea how my parents ever thought that their union would be beneficial to either party. I've often thought that my father would have been better off with a harder woman – someone like your mother, or even you."
Rowan continued to watch him carefully. His expression hadn't changed at all – still heated and hard. She could nearly taste his bitterness. His last statement somewhat disturbed her. What was he implying?
"You know, I'm really grateful that I've been able to get to know you over the past few months, even if it was because of something so petty as family connections," he said softly. "I didn't have many friends growing up who understood what it was like with parents like mine. We have a lot in common, don't you think?"
Rowan forced herself to remain still, to not shift uneasily and look away. She held his gaze steadily and nodded slightly.
"It's a blessing to have people you can trust, especially in these times, and I really feel like you're one of those people," he said heatedly. She heard his words and knew she should feel touched, but something about them didn't match his expression. Why did she feel so uneasy?
"Have you seen the article in The Daily Prophet about the McKinnons?" he asked suddenly. Rowan couldn't hold the confusion from her face. He set a newspaper out in front of them, and on the front page was written out in bold letters: "MCKINNON FAMILY MISSING. SIGNS OF STRUGGLE IN HOME."
Rowan had to suppress a grimace. She'd heard about the McKinnons even before The Daily Prophet or Ministry had. Marlene and her older brother Derek were members of the Order. She'd been a couple years ahead of Rowan in Gryffindor, and he'd been a Fifth Year during her First. They'd both been popular and high-achieving students - attractive, well-humored, and beautifully blonde. Their family was well-known for being staunch supporters of Dumbledore, and the thought of them being in danger made her stomach clench painfully. James and Frank Longbottom had been working with Kingsley Shacklebolt day and night to find them, and Rowan had a terrible feeling that they'd soon have a serious mission on their hands.
"Yeah, it's terrifying," she said quietly, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice. Why was he showing this to her so suddenly? "I was friends with Marlene in school. I can't stand the thought of something happening to her."
She looked up and saw Barty looking at her with an overwhelming intensity. His eyes searched hers hotly. Her throat clenched nervously. She still couldn't read his face.
"I can't help but wonder who will be the first to find them," he said softly. The silkiness of his tone sent a chill through her. "There are so many rumors of Dumbledore's alleged army fighting You-Know-Who's supporters. They seem to be the ones doing all the work, not the Ministry – don't you think?"
Rowan forced her face to keep still but nervously had no idea how to react. She held his gaze steadily, but her head pounded deafeningly.
"I've heard the rumors," she said carefully, "But I can't imagine that they're doing all of the work. I'm sure your department has been working incessantly to fight the Death Eaters. Surely, you must take some credit." She tried to look at him warmly, but she couldn't be sure how her features were moving. She thought nervously that she probably looked very stiff.
His gaze darkened, and she suddenly thought of the shadowy anger on his face the first time she'd gone out with him. A tinge of fear set into her bones.
"My department is useless," he said bitterly. "We make a show of working, but we're not actually catching anyone. The majority of the Death Eaters that get arrested are the ones that show up in the middle of the night – presents from Dumbledore's army."
There was a fire in his eyes scalded her. She wanted to look away but somehow knew that she couldn't falter. Mina's warnings echoed through her mind: He's much more like his father than he lets on. She couldn't lose face to him.
"I wonder," he continued slowly, eyeing her carefully, "how one would become involved with this army, this Order of the Phoenix." He looked at her heatedly.
Anger flared in her. She was startled by its strength, confused at its suddenness and intensity. Something screamed in her, though it was incoherent. She struggled to keep her poise and stared back at him calmly.
"I would imagine that one would have to earn Professor Dumbledore's trust, if this army of his isn't just some rumor," she said nonchalantly. She reached for her water and took a long drink. The liquid boiled down her throat.
He assessed her carefully some more. "I've heard that a great majority of Order members are Gryffindors though. Surely you must have some old housemates that you suspect are members," he said slowly.
"I don't," she quipped smartly. "And if I am acquainted with any, they do a very good job at hiding it." She turned away from him and stared out the window of the restaurant. She wasn't letting this conversation continue.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. She kept her gaze directed outside, mind racing. A part of her feared looking at him – would she see his hidden rage again? Finally, the silence was broken by a third voice.
"Hello, are you ready to order?"
Rowan's head jerked towards the waitress, who was looking at them expectantly. She had a bright smile on her face. It seemed very out of place.
Rowan glanced over at Barty, who was once again smiling warmly. The sudden shift in his energy made her uneasy, but she ignored it for the moment. They ordered their food, and when the waitress left, it was as if the previous heavy conversation had never happened. They spoke casually for the rest of the meal, though Rowan kept her guard up, half-expecting to see the shadows in his face again. But his countenance remained light, and when he placed his hand on her back to guide her out of the restaurant after, she only felt a slight chill.
"I'll probably be busy again next week, but maybe we could grab a quick dinner if you're free?" he asked hopefully. She bristled slightly at the thought but smiled at him.
"Yes, of course. Don't work too hard, okay?" she said with false warmth. She wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.
"Right," he said. Then his smile faltered slightly and he said casually, "If you hear of any people I can connect with about what we discussed earlier, I'd be very interested in getting involved." He looked at her lightly, but she could see the underlying heat in his eyes. She nodded and held his gaze.
"I'll keep it in mind," she said casually.
He smiled and leaned forward slowly, grazing her cheek with his lips. He came very close to the corner of her mouth. She suppressed a shiver.
"I'll see you later, Winnie. Thanks for hearing me out earlier - I really appreciate it," he said with a slow smile. She nodded and smiled weakly.
As he walked away, she kept her eyes on his back, determined to see him leave before turning away. When she saw him Disapparate, a rush of air shot from her lungs. She nearly gasped with relief. The limbs suddenly felt much more aware, the sound in her ears louder.
What had just happened? Barty obviously suspected that she was in the Order, but despite his alleged interest, she didn't believe him at all. There was something dark there, something sinister. She'd heard rumors of many Ministry officials being averse to the idea of the Order's vigilante operations, but he had never struck her as one. The hair on her arms stood on end, and a chill ran up her spine despite the August heat.
She thought of his invitation for dinner the next week with dread. The next Order meeting luckily was before then. She would certainly have to remember to bring this up with her allies. Maybe Dumbledore would know what to do.
