PART ONE: IN VITAM
Chapter XIX: Four of Wands Upright
"The Four of Wands indicates an approaching time of harmony and celebration. Now is the time to offer support and stability to others so that you can receive the like in return." -The Art of the Tarot by Sato Mirai
Our compartment on the Hogwarts Express was cramped. Because Sirius and Remus were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, James and Peter had joined us for the train ride. Lily, Dorcas, and Peter had bought out the trolley lady, and now they chatted excitedly over chocolate frogs, honey fudge, sugar quills, cauldron cakes, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Mary had the Daily Prophet open; when she reached the sports section, James decided to add commentary over her shoulder, much to her annoyance.
I sat by the window, my gaze turned towards the rolling hills and gray skies of the Scottish landscape. As someone who grew up reading the Harry Potter books, riding on the Hogwarts Express should have had me screaming on the inside. Wasn't that every fan's dream?
Instead, my thoughts went something along the lines of: you dobber, you mumpty, you tally-washer, you lavvy head, you absolute arsepiece, how could you almost shag Evan Rosier?
What had possessed me? What absolute madness had come over me? Had I really been that pathetic, that desperate?
Yes. Yes, I had been.
Had the kissing been great? Sure. But that was irrelevant. Mostly irrelevant.
Memories came back of the old me, driving to my boyfriend's place through the dark, country roads. Actually, he may have been my ex-boyfriend at the time; we'd had so many break-ups that I'd lost track. My parents had been fighting that day. I couldn't even recall what they'd been arguing about now. I'd arrived at the flat and clung to my ex-boyfriend's shoulders, pressing kisses into his neck, telling him how much I'd missed him, anything so that he'd let me stay.
The same mistakes. Over and over again.
If I were to be honest with myself, the fact that Rosier and I almost shagged in a broom cupboard wasn't a surprise to me at all.
His sly glances, those moments of prolonged eye contact, the shivers I'd felt at his touch, the way my gaze followed the line of his broad shoulders, the times I'd caught him watching me with something thoughtful, almost appreciative in his stare. I'd tried my best to ignore it, to pretend those moments didn't mean anything.
But I'd known what it all meant. He'd known what it all meant.
What had happened last night was the disastrous, inevitable conclusion.
I understood what pathetic thoughts had caused my actions. What I didn't know was why Rosier had gone along with it. He wasn't the sort to do things without a reason. So what did he hope to gain from this? And what did this mean for the future? For our plans to catch Loughty's murderer? Would I have to avoid that broom cupboard forever?
My chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought.
I scowled. I might know what was bad for me, but feelings didn't care about logic and common sense.
"Are you all right, Marlene?" asked Mary. She peered at me over the pages of the Daily Prophet.
"You've been awfully quiet, Marle," said James. "You didn't even respond when I mentioned the Montrose Magpies were obliterated by the Ballycastle Bats."
"Were they?" Then, I added, "I'm doing aye right, Mary. Thanks for asking."
"Where were you last night?" asked Lily. "We missed you in the Great Hall."
"You came back to the dorm late too, mind," added Dorcas.
"You did?" asked James, looking at me with surprise. "You shouldn't stay out late."
Peter nodded. "It's dangerous."
I tried to make a face full of regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I'd worry you. It took longer to find my textbook than expected. Then, I don't know, I got caught up in…things." I let my head droop down and bit down hard on the insides of my cheeks. With an expression of pain, I looked back up at my friends and managed a weak smile. "It's just been a rough few days."
"I know," said Lily hurriedly. She reached out to grab hold of my hands. "We know you need your space sometimes. But, with things how they are, we get worried."
"We're here if you need us," added Peter.
"Thanks." I smiled. This one was almost genuine.
Lily returned my smile before she let go of my hands and sat back in her seat. She offered me a chocolate frog that she'd gotten from the trolley witch, but I didn't have the strength to face a jumping, enchanted sweet just yet.
Instead, I accept some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans from Peter. The first one, thankfully, was a mundane blueberry flavor.
"Oh, that radio host Glenda Chittock got married," said James, reading the article title over Mary;s shoulder. "Didn't you fancy her back in the day, Peter?"
Peter coughed. "What?"
"She married a Quidditch player," said Mary. "Aw, they met when she interviewed him for her show."
Last night, the worst case scenario had been avoided only because I'd have enough sense to ask, "What about contraception?"
"There's a spell for that."
That's when it had all come back to me. Who I was. Where I was. What I was doing. Marlene McKinnon, the real one, was a virgin. This was her. It was also me. But how could I act like this in someone else's body?
I'd found myself staring at Rosier with a sense of ever-growing dread. "I need to go."
"Marlene?"
As I'd scurried to put my uniform back on, he'd smiled at me. It might have been a sad smile. I'd paused, confused, wondering if I should stay longer, ask him what he was thinking about, why he was looking at me like that. But then the shame and embarrassment came rushing back to me, and I'd fled the broom cupboard.
"Blah," cried Dorcas. "Earthworm."
"How do you know it's earthworm?" asked Lily.
"Well, it's not apple, I can tell you that."
Thank Merlin, my next Bertie Botts bean was lemon flavored.
This morning, when I'd made eye contact with Rosier on the station platform, I'd quickly turned away. I couldn't bear to see one of his annoying smirks. Why had Rosier gone along with it? What did he hope to gain from having it off with me? How did this fit into his games? How did I fit into his games?
The questions went round and round in my head with no answers. Thankfully, this was a problem that I wouldn't have to deal with for two whole weeks. Instead, I had another, more pressing, issue to deal with: the McKinnons.
What had Rosier told me? Don't stress yourself out.
Fat chance of that happening.
I let out a sigh as I nibbled on half of another Bertie Botts bean.
"Oh fuck."
The flavor hit my tongue, and it was like nothing I'd ever eaten before. Rancid and foul, like something had got rotten. I immediately spit it out, but the repugnant taste remained.
"Oh, Marlene got a bad one," said Lily, while James howled with laughter.
"What'd you get?" asked Dorcas eagerly.
Peter caught sight of the uneaten half and said, "Oh, my cousin got that one once. That's dirty sock."
As the train approached Platform 9¾, Hartley came to find me. He seemed to be in a good mood as he greeted my friends and watched me get my luggage down from the rack. Dorcas bid us farewell and happy holidays before she went off in search of her own younger brother. The rest of us, except Peter, changed into our muggle attire. I winced at the shirred tops, bell-bottoms, and suede skirts; I still couldn't get used to muggle fashion of the time.
Then, as the train pulled into the station, I was struck by the truth of it all: this was the iconic Platform 9¾.
The iconic Platform 9¾ was a chaotic mess. Students pushing and pulling in all directions. Luggage bumping into knees, elbows flying everywhere, voices coming from all directions. I had to grab onto the sleeve of Hartley's sweater so that we didn't get separated.
There was a red fireplace at the far end of the platform, green flames flickering in the hearth. A wizard with a long face and emerald robes stood with a piece of parchment hovering beside him, the feather quill scribbling words. On the edges of the platform stood grim-faced men and women supporting glittering Ministry badges that marked them as aurors. The joy of the holidays wouldn't let us forget that we were in the middle of a war.
"This way, James," said Lily. She linked her arm with his and, after saying goodbye to the rest of us, she led him across the platform to where an older couple stood with slightly apprehensive looks on their faces. I noticed that the woman had bright green eyes that reminded me so much of Lily's. So these were the grandparents that Harry Potter never got to know. What would happen to them in the next few years? Was it the same fate that awaited the McKinnons?
"Have a good holiday," said Peter.
"Stay safe," added Mary.
"You too." I smiled at them.
We waved goodbye to each other, and I watched as they made their way through the jumble of students. I lost track of Mary, but I saw Peter welcomed by a gray-haired woman in brilliant lilac robes. What would she think about Peter's supposed murder in 1981? Would she blame Sirius as well? Would she even be alive to see it? It was funny, the things the books never bothered to say.
"Hartley, Marlene!" a warm voice with a strong Scottish accent rang out across the platform.
"This way," said Hartley.
I turned and spotted a woman with curly brown hair and familiar hazel eyes. She wore maroon robes over muggle clothing and a tartan scarf around her neck. June McKinnon had a few more wrinkles, but she was definitely the woman in the photograph behind Marlene's bed.
"Ma!" said Hartley as he gave her a big hug.
I did my best to plaster a smile on my face. "Ma, happy holidays!"
Marlene's mother gave warm hugs. She held me close and then offered a gentle squeeze before letting go. She stepped back to survey both Hartley and me properly before saying, "Hartley, you need to stop growing. You'll pass up Owen at this rate. Marlene, please stay the same height. Clothes cost a fortune."
"I might have another centimeter or two in me," I said. "You never know."
"By Merlin's saggy bottom, I hope not." June gave me a big smile, one that highlighted the laugh lines on her face.
I returned her smile even as my heart hammered in my chest. Did she know I wasn't her daughter? She didn't seem to know. Had I passed the first test?
June led the way through the crowd of reuniting families until we reached the queue of people waiting to use the fireplace. Hartley had begun recounting his first Quidditch match for Hufflepuff. June looked up at him with pride.
My stomach churned, and I wondered if I could get through today without throwing up. At least no one had called the aurors on me yet.
When we reached the front of the queue, the official in emerald robes checked his list and then gestured towards the fireplace.
Suddenly, I was hit with a new concern: how to travel by floo powder.
My head spun as I tried to recall the Harry Potter books. Throw the powder. Picture the destination. Say the name. Then step into the fireplace.
Except, well, I had no clue what the McKinnon house looked like or was called.
I hung back, allowing Hartley to go ahead of me. A black vase had been placed on a metal table beside the fireplace. Hartley reached in and grabbed a handful of powder. Then, he tossed the Floo powder into the fireplace. "Grayfield." He stepped into the hearth. The flames leapt up, clinging to his clothes, and then, Hartley was gone.
"Marlene," said June, gesturing for me to go on ahead.
I nodded, trying to act cool and composed.
I reached into the vase. Floo powder was fine and dark-pastel green in color. I didn't know how much I needed, so I grabbed a fistful.
Then, I faced the fireplace. It seemed crazy. That was fire. Actual fire. It would burn.
Pure fear compelled me to throw the Floo powder into the hearth, say "Grayfrield", and step into the flickering flames.
Surprisingly, there was no pain. I didn't even feel the flames that leapt around me. There was a sudden lurching sensation, and then I stumbled out of a fireplace into a large sitting room.
The walls had been painted a sunshine yellow that marched the honey-colored wood of the ceiling. The leather couches and armchairs were various shades of brown with dark red and navy throw pillows. A baby's bassinet had been placed in the corner, and Hartley stood over it, peering over the cushioned walls. A large window to the left of the fireplace looked out over a snow-covered slope that descended into the gray landscape of Aberdeenshire.
"Hello? Marlene? Hartley?"
A proper British accent rang out through a doorway, and then a tiny woman dressed in bell-bottom jeans and blue robes stepped into the sitting room. She had a delicate face with a small nose, large black eyes, and a pointed chin. In her arms, she held a small, round-faced baby dressed in a red onesie.
"Yuki!" called out Hartley. He made his way across the sitting room to give her a one-armed hug, careful to avoid the baby. Then, Hartley bent his head to get a good look at the sleepy-eyed infant. "And is this little Hamish?"
"It is," said Yuki with a bright smile. "He's sleepy, so forgive him if he's not thrilled to meet his aunt and uncle. Though this might be for the best. He tends to bawl his eyes out when meeting new people."
I, for one, was glad not to be greeted by a screaming infant. Still, I couldn't drop my act as Marlene. So, with a smile, I made my way across the room, saying, "It's good to see you, Yuki. And good to meet you, Hamish."
The flames behind me flared up, and June stepped out of the fireplace. "I see you've already met your lovely nephew. He's a dear. At least, after he gets to know you."
"We have been warned about the crying," I said.
"Owen and Collin are still at work," said Yuki as she moved to put Hamish in the bassinet. "You would think they'd get some time off after what those arseholes did, but you know how things are. There's no rest for wicked, those damned bastards, so there's no rest for the aurors."
"Yuki," said June with a sharp look at the bassinet. Despite the scolding, her tone was fond.
"He's too young to understand," said Yuki. Once she had Hamish settled, she turned to Hartley and me with a wide smile. "All right, proper hugs now."
Once the initial greetings were done, June sent us to drop our luggage off. Like a lost puppy, I followed Hartley to the back of the house and almost into his room. He gave me an odd look before I realized my error. Then, I had the horrific task of trying to figure out where Marlene's room was. Thankfully, the second door opened to a room with photographs of Lily, Dorcas, and Mary on the bedside table.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I had made it this far without suspicion. A moment's break from the pressure was desperately needed.
That break, however, was a short-lived dream.
The family owl chose that moment to come hurtling into the room, hooting and flapping his wings like a maniac.
My trunk fell to the floor with a thud, and I threw my hands in front of my face.
"Maximus!" Hartley's footsteps thudded through the hallway.
This damned bird. The bane of my existence. The ruiner of my morning meal. I tried to push the feathery beast away, but the wings swatted at my hands.
"What happened?" June's voice came from the doorway. "Oh no—"
"What's the bugger gotten up to now?" Yuki's voice joined June's.
My foot hit the edge of my trunk, and before I could catch myself, I went tumbling down to the floor.
"Got you!"
Hartley stood over me, holding the large, brown owl close to his chest. His hazel eyes looked down at me with silent amusement. His mouth twitched upwards.
I didn't have to look to know what a mess I was. One leg underneath me. One arm clutching the footboard of the bed. A thick strand of hair fell into my eyes. And to top it all off, a single brown feather had fallen onto my nose. The image of destruction left in the wake of the flying catastrophe that was Maximus.
"Marlene…" June couldn't even look at me.
"Are you…all…right?" Yuki barely got the words out before she started to laugh.
And then Hartley joined her. Like the breaking of a damn, the three of them started to howl with laughter. Maximus looked at me from the safety of Hartley's arms—even the damned owl seemed to be laughing at me.
"Welcome home, Marlene," said June with a bright smile. "We all, especially Maximus, missed you."
Once the laughter faded and everyone made sure I wasn't hurt, we returned to the sitting room for some tea and catching up. Before today, my only knowledge of the McKinnon family came from Marlene's letter, the photographs behind her bed, and whatever scraps I got from my conversations with Hartley.
June McKinnon was almost exactly as I'd imagined her. In pictures, she was always smiling. She was much the same way in real life. Always smiling, always bubbly, always making sure everyone was happy. She flitted from place to place, never standing still for long, checking in with everyone present even as she asked me about how my friends were doing, how went my last year at Hogwarts, and about how difficult mid-year exams had been. When Hamish woke up from his nap, June placed him on a padded patchwork quilt and began to play with him, casting a spell so that his toys floated around him.
Yuki McKinnon, on the other hand, was not at all what I'd expected. In her pictures, she'd looked almost shy and delicate. Instead, she turned out to be a foul-mouthed city woman with an odd sense of humor and a tendency to overshare. She had no problems regaling us with detailed stories about Hamish's poop disasters, about her mother's ongoing feud with a neighborhood witch, and about her friend's ongoing divorce.
"That pig-headed mumpty of a man said Voldemort wasn't 'all wrong'—can you believe it?" Yuki threw her hands in air and shook her head. "Well enough was enough. She can tolerate his dirty clothes and his inability to do dishes. But supporting a murderous, muggle-hating, blood-purity supremacist? That's where she draws the line. Thankfully, she found out what a twat he was before she had kids with him."
The afternoon turned to evening, and both June and Yuki began showing signs of agitation. June kept glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room, while a frown crossed Yuki's face and she held baby Hamish close to her chest. I glanced over at Hartley, but he seemed as puzzled as I did.
It was around 5:21 when green flames appeared in the hearth.
First stepped out a tall man with gray-streaked hair and an oval face. He wore black robes over a maroon vest and white shirt. There was a slight shadow on his face, but when he caught sight of Hartley and me sitting on the leather couch, his gaze softened and warmth filled his brown eyes.
"Da!" Hartley leapt up from the couch and threw himself into his father's arms.
The green flames of the hearth flared up again, and a second man, even taller than his father, stepped into the sitting room. Owen McKinnon offered his wife an apologetic smile and said, "Sorry for the late arrival. The line to use the Floo Network was long."
Yuki nodded, though the worry didn't fade from her pale face. She bent her head and gently rocked the baby in her arms. Her long, black hair hid the reddening around her eyelids.
I remained on the couch, my hands curled into tight fists at my sides.
I knew that I couldn't act this way. I had managed to survive the afternoon undiscovered so far. But now Marlene's father and eldest brother had joined. All it would take was a slight mistake, and they might begin to wonder if Marlene was under the Imperius Curse. I had to play the part. The real Marlene would rush to hug her father, to find comfort in his arms.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it. There was something so soft and frail in the atmosphere, something so wholly unfamiliar to me. I worried that if I moved even an inch, I might break it.
"Marlene." The gentle voice called out her name. "I'm home."
Slowly, I raised my head and looked into the brown eyes, so like my own, of Collin McKinnon.
So kind. So gentle. So loving.
Don't look at me like that, I wanted to scream. I didn't deserve that love. I wasn't her.
When Collin held his arms wide, I could do nothing but stand and allow myself to be hugged. His arms were firm around my shoulders, holding me tight. It wasn't just comfort for me, comfort for his daughter—Collin needed this as well. To know that his children were alive and unharmed.
How different Collin McKinnon was from my own father. I couldn't even remember the last time my father had hugged me. Not on my birthday. Not when I graduated from school. Not when I'd given him a holiday present. When I thought about it, I couldn't even remember if he'd hugged my brother before he went abroad for school.
This feeling was unfamiliar. It felt uncomfortable, like I'd worn shoes slightly too small. A slight pinching. A feeling that wasn't exactly painful, but it didn't feel right.
June and Yuki had prepared a dinner of haddock, peas, and stove-fried potatoes. Conversation at the kitchen table was cheerful and boisterous. Hartley and Owen argued over Quidditch, while I entertained Yuki and June as best I could with silly Hogwarts gossip. June had been about to bring out the toffee pudding when Hamish started getting fussy. After some failed attempts to calm him, Owen and Yuki said their goodbyes before returning to their own home via Floo network.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, I shut the bedroom door behind me and fell onto the soft bed.
I couldn't do this.
I couldn't smile and laugh like I was their family.
They didn't know. They had no idea that it was all a lie. The real Marlene McKinnon was no longer here. And they couldn't even mourn her.
Slowly, I rolled over and rummaged through my trunk. My fingers found the soft fabric of the baseball cap, and I pulled the diadem free of my belongings.
My brother's smile was painfully clear as I unwrapped the Red Sox baseball cap that Christmas morning. I hadn't seen him for six months. We stood out in the snowy backyard, out of sight and out of mind for our parents. My brother had taken the cap and tugged in onto my head. "For my baby sister. Come visit me when you can."
I buried my face in Marlene's pillow and released a long sigh.
With my hand still clasped around the black baseball cap, I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
When I entered the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, Hartley was already at the table with toast and tea. His blue jumper and track pants were stained with mud, and his auburn hair was ruffled by the wind. It seemed, like James, Hartley was one of the godawful early risers. Must be a Quidditch thing.
"Morn," said Hartley.
"Hm." I mumbled a response as I took a seat beside him at the table.
The McKinnons' kitchen was much like the sitting room: warm and cozy. The walls were honey-colored with a blue-tiled back splash, painted with thistles. A blue kettle rested on the stove, steaming with freshly heated water, while a porcelain teapot painted with delicate thistles sat on the kitchen counter. A stack of handwritten cookbook rested on the counter, and a baby blue cloth was constantly wiping the counters for any dust or spills.
Maximus sat perched on the windowsill. He, thankfully, wasn't looking at me, but instead out at the countryside. Unlike yesterday, Grayfield wasn't surrounded by gray skies, and I could see down the snowy slope all the way to the North Sea.
I picked up a discarded copy of the Saturday Daily Prophet and began skimming through the articles.
"I don't bother looking anymore," said Hartley. "It's all depressing."
For once, though, there was minimal doom and gloom. The front page was about a new law being pushed by Minister Minchum. The law would allow the wizarding courts to forego certain pre-trial measures to allow for alleged Death Eaters to be judged sooner. Head of the Department of Magic Law Enforce Barty Crouch spoke out in favor if the new laws. The rest of the paper was about Quidditch scores, the marriage of a famous potion-maker to a novelist, and a list of safety protocols for the holidays.
"Even if it's depressing," I said, "we should know what's going on in the world."
"I know what's going on in the world. People are—"
"For the last time, I'm not selling the owlry to Eyelop."
Hartley and I turned to see June walking into the kitchen. Her heart-shaped face was red with anger as she went to the stove to pour herself a cup of tea.
"June." Collin followed her into the kitchen, still dressed in his blue and white plaid pajamas. "I understand that you don't want to give up your work—"
"Why don't you give up your work?" snapped June. "Or do you think working in Diagon Alley is somehow more dangerous than working as an auror? In case you forgot, your offices were raided by Death Eaters mere days ago. Days, Collin! Gabriel Delacroix is dead. His daughters? They don't have a da anymore. His wife? She doesn't have a husband anymore."
Her voice rang in my ears. It wasn't that she was loud; June McKinnon never yelled, only spoke quicker and more fervently. But the anger behind her tone was unmistakable. And that anger seeped into my bones, bringing back a life I thought I'd left behind.
I sat there, frozen in place, the Daily Prophet clenched in my hands. I couldn't have moved even if I wanted to. My heart thundered in my chest, and the sound seemed to rise around me like a great, swelling wave.
Waiting. I was waiting for the wave come crashing down.
I knew how this story ended. How many times had I seen it play out with my own parents? The littlest thing began an argument. An overcooked meal, a late night out, a broken plate. Then, the shouting would begin. The insults, the curses, and eventually my brother and I would be brought up. If only. If only the children hadn't been born. Then, came the throwing. Books, glasses, picture frames. They never hit each other, thankfully. Or us. Only once but never again after.
My knuckles turned white as my grip on the newspaper tightened.
Collin took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was calm and even. "June, I'm sorry. You're right. My job is riskier. And you know that I'm not trying to place more value on my work over yours. It's just that I worry about you. And you know why I worry."
June stared at the stove as she spoke in a small, delicate voice. "I worry about you too."
"I know." Collin took a step closer to his wife. "All we want is for those we love to be safe."
Hartley shifted in his seat. I glanced across the table and saw a hard look on his face. Almost like a feeling on resolve.
"It's not fair." June looked up at her husband with tears in the corners of her eyes. "Do I have to give up my job? Do I have to give up going outside and stay cooped up in my own home simply because I'm muggleborn? How long am I expected to stay hidden away? Until every witch and wizard who hates muggles is dead? How long will that be? The rest of my life?"
"No." Collin took a step closer to his wife and caught her hand in his. "No, I would never ask that of you."
June wrapped her arms around her husband's waist and rested her forehead against her chest. They stood there, embracing in the middle of their warm and cozy kitchen.
Hartley let out a little cough. "This is great tea. Greatly brewed. And the toast, ma. Great. Greatly toasted."
June let go of Collin and stepped back to smile at her son. "Thank you, Hartley. Sorry. It's been a bit of a tiring morn."
"Of course," said Hartley quickly.
"Would you like some toast, Marlene?" asked June even as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's received great reviews."
Mutely, I nodded.
"I think you've quite destroyed our Daily Prophet," said Collin as he crossed to kitchen.
I looked down to see that my tight grip had crumbled and distorted the newspaper.
I quickly released it. "Sorry."
"No worries."
Oh, that's right, I thought. Not every family was like mine.
I knew that logically, of course. I remembered going over to my friend's house to play when I was seven years old. There had been no yelling. Her ma had brought us sandwiches. My friend had wanted juice. I'd been terrified, telling her over and over again that she couldn't have juice over the white carpet. When my friend inevitably spilled the juice, her ma had only scolded us and made us drink in the kitchen. It was then, at seven years old, I realized that my family wasn't normal. That I had gotten the unlucky draw when it came to parents.
"Are you aye right, Marlene?" asked Hartley.
I managed to smile at him. "Yes. You know, you're right. The Daily Prophet is a depressing read."
On Christmas day, I awoke to another siege by Maximus. I didn't find out until later, but the demonic early riser Hartley had thought it'd be amusing to let the owl loose in my room. I opened my eyes to a face full of fluttering wings and shrill hoots. I rolled over in bed and let out a string of curses before June rescued me from the damned owl.
The McKinnon house had been decorated with red and green ribbons on the walls. Gold and silver ornaments hovered above our head, floating near the ceiling as if they hung from invisible strings. The fireplace burned low, and a fresh layer of snow had fallen on the hills around Grayfield. In the sitting room, piles of presents with red and green paper and golden ribbons had been placed in the corner, waiting eagerly to be unwrapped.
It had been a struggle to buy presents for people who existed only in photographs for me. I hadn't even thought of buying the McKinnons presents until I'd come across Mary and Peter flipping through a catalogue one weekend. In the end, I could only choose the most basic gifts: scarves, hats, gloves. Thankfully, Marlene's family all thanked me as if they were genuinely excited about the boring gifts.
I received muggle sweaters and more bell-bottom jeans from June, while Collin gifted me new fur-lined winter boots. Yuki had bought me Frog Spawn Soup from Zonko's Joke Shop (my sister-in-law definitely had an odd sense of humor) as well as the slightly more serious gift of invisible ink. Collin and June had also gotten me a book. As I removed the glittering emerald paper, I stared down at the black letters of the title: A Healer's Guide to Magical Herbs.
It was a good gift. For the real Marlene.
I managed what I hoped was genuine "thank you" for Marlene's parents.
The last present I opened was from both Hartley and Owen. I frowned when I pushed back the wrapping paper to see what looked like a metal box, but then I paused when I saw a small piece of parchment attached with Hartley's messy handwriting: For all that night time studying.
"What's this?" I asked.
"A light," said Owen.
"Only the holder can see the light," added Hartley.
Using my thumb, I pushed on what looked to be a lid at the top of the flat, rectangular box. The lid slid back and bright, white light filled the room. I almost jumped back in surprise, but when I looked up, June and Collin were still looking at the little metal box in confusion. Owen and Hartley had near identical smug smiles.
I closed the lid and then remembered Hartley's note. For all that night time studying. It seemed my nightly trips to Room of Requirement weren't as overlooked as I would have liked.
Still, a faint smile crossed my face. "Thank you."
After all the presents had been unwrapped, Hartley brought out the cards for Exploding Snap. It turned out that Yuki was even worse than me, and she lost three games in a row before she used Hamish as an excuse to quit.
Then, the Christmas crackers made an appearance. The sitting room became filled with loud bangs, while we took turns breaking open the paper. Colorful ribbons, flashing bells, and silver tinsel fell from the crackers and disappeared before they hit the ground. The spoils were shared amongst the family, and soon I found myself sitting at the dinner table with a mismatched golden necklace and silver crown.
Yuki returned to the party, carrying Hamish in one arm and holding a camera in her free hand. Then, it was photo time and June rushed about the kitchen, snapping pictures of everyone. She couldn't be stopped despite her children's protests, and it wasn't until Collin gently reminded her of Christmas dinner that she put the camera down.
The McKinnons had prepared a feast. Yuki had roasted a leg of lamb, while June and Owen had prepared neeps and tatties, black pudding, and soda bread. Hartley had made the cranberry sauce, which he didn't let any of us forget for even a single second.
"Minchum is going to create a military out of the ministry at this rate," said Owen as the McKinnon family moved onto dessert.
Collin glanced up from his plate of mince pies. "Minchum has always been a man of action."
I paused, fork halfway to my mouth with a piece of cake. I'd heard the jokes about politics making its way into family dinners, but in my experience, I only every heard my da shout about football, and my ma complain that we didn't appreciate her cooking.
"That bastard wants to take away basic rights for speedier trials," said Yuki. "Speedier trials mean he can put more people behind bars quicker. It's all about making his numbers look good. Never mind if they're actually guilty or not. And of course that shit-faced arsehole Crouch supports him. Minchum gave him his job as Head of Department, so Crouch sits when Minchum says sit, like the dog he is."
June glanced at the baby in Yuki's arms and fought back a sigh. I had the feeling little Hamish was going to have quite the vocabulary by the time he reached Hogwarts age.
"Is Minchum still pushing for aurors to be authorized to use the Unforgivable Curses at their discretion?" I asked.
"Of course," said Owen with a scoff. "Crouch has already authorized the use of the Killing Curse on Voldemort and a select list of his known followers. It's only a matter of time before they expand the use of the Unforgivable Curses to anyone suspected of being a Death Eater."
"Dumbledore won't allow that to happen," said June. "Even if he's retired from politics, he still has enough influence."
"Dumbledore has influence, yes," said Owen. "But Minchum and Crouch have done their best to keep him away from Ministry's current legislation. The Head of Magical Transportation and the Head of Magic Magical Accidents and Catastrophes are known associates of Dumbledore, and they've already spoken out again a number of Minchum's policies—a fat load of good its done in stopping them."
My friends and I read the Daily Prophet every day, but there was so much more information to be gotten from people who actually worked at the Ministry.
"The International Confederation of Wizards won't let it happen," said Collin. "They have strict rules regarding the use of Unforgivable Curses and membership in the Confederation."
"They didn't kick out Belgium when Grindelwald was running rampant," muttered Yuki. "The government was handing out Unforgivable Curses like it was free sample day at Zonko's."
A faint smile crossed Owen's face as he glanced over at his wife.
"People are desperate," said June. She frowned down at her empty plate. "The Ministry didn't make any progress in stopping the Death Eaters until Minchum took over as Minister. I know he's very extreme in his politics but sometime a hardline approach is necessary."
"Is a hardline approach necessary?" asked Owen. "Or are we abandoning our morals to take the easy way out?"
"He'll be voted out of office as soon as the war is over," said Collin.
"That's what everyone says," said Yuki, "And then we'll have to undo all the laws and policies he and Crouch have put into place. But what if he doesn't get voted out of office? He's got his fair deal of arse-minded supporters too. What if we get stuck with his policies or someone like him after the war has ended? Do you want aurors to have permanent authorization to use Unforgivable Curses at their discretion?
"That won't happen," said June.
"It's one thing to be scared of being killed by Death Eaters," said Yuki, "but to have to be scared of being killed by aurors as well?"
Owen nodded along with his wife's words. It seemed criticisms of Minister Minchum was not a rare thing in their household.
Then, a small voice, Hartley asked, "Would you use them?"
June glanced over at her youngest child. "Use what?"
"The Unforgivable Curses. If Minchum authorized aurors to use the Unforgivable Curses on anyone you thought was a Death Eater. would you?"
"Of course not!" cried June, but when she looked down the table at her family, her response with met with silence.
A furrow appeared between Collin's brows as he said, "I believe the rules we have in place now are best. I would use an Unforgivable Curse against Voldemort and his known followers."
"If someone was in immediate danger," said Owen, "and the only way I could save them was by using an Unforgivable Curse against a Death Eater, then yes, I would."
"Screw authorization," said Yuki. "If a Death Eater was threatening my family, I'd use an Unforgivable Curse regardless."
"Yuki," said June with a sigh.
"What?" asked Yuki. "I'd gladly go to Azkaban if it meant I could keep my family alive."
Owen reached out and caressed his son's head. He smiled at Yuki and said, "Try not to have our son's first vacation be to visit you in Azkaban."
Hartley gaze drifted down the table to me. He didn't ask aloud, but I could see the silent question in his eyes.
"I don't think I could ever use an Unforgivable Curse," I said. If Rosier were here, he'd know my words were a lie.
Hamish started to wriggle about in Yuki's arms.
"Here, let me take him," said Owen. He got to his feet, and Yuki carefully handed their baby over. Owen rocked his son gently, a light smile crossing his face as he looked down at the little dark-haired boy.
"How about I pour the eggnog?" suggested Collin.
And with that, all talk of politics came to an end.
In the days following Christmas, June spent most of her time at Diagon Alley, managing the owlry, while Collin had to report to the Aurors Office every morning. The raid had forced all aurors who weren't injured to work overtime, investigating the matter. This left Hartley and me alone in the McKinnon house for most of the days between Christmas and New Years.
We played several games of Exploding Snap, but we quickly learned that every game ended with a smug Hartley sitting in front of a full deck and me sulking with singed hair. Once Hartley got bored of winning, we switched to wizard chess. Surprisingly, despite having only played muggle chess in primary school, I was the better player. Hartley got frustrated quickly, and our games ended when he knocked over my queen by "accident."
We went walking through the snowy countryside almost every day, and we went sledding down the hill in the backyard. Hartley had a disastrous wipeout, and I had to patch him up with my questionable spellwork before June returned home from the owlry.
Hamish kept bringing up Quidditch as an option, a fun race around Grayfield on our brooms. I couldn't help but feel guilty every time I saw the disappointment in his face when I refused.
I brought out every excuse in the book—it was too cold, I was too tired, my broom was in bad condition—until finally I gave in and told Hartley that I just didn't want to fly. I had to refuse. Even though the real Marlene would've jumped at the chance to fly, I knew that there was no way I could convince Hartley that I was a seasoned Quidditch player if I hopped on a broom.
Yuki brought Hamish over some days, and we spent our time playing with our nephew while Yuki rested or went to visit her friends. At first, Hamish was wary of both Hartley and me. He started crying whenever we approached, and Yuki would have to hold him in her arms and rock him until he calmed down. He warmed up to Hartley quickly enough, and he would hold onto Hartley's fingers whenever they were within reach. Me, on the other hand, it took until Thursday for Hamish to stop bawling at the sight of me.
I suspected it was my fault Hamish wasn't a big fan of me. I wasn't a big fan of him either. I'd never been around babies much. Even when one of my friends became a mother right out of school, I'd kept my distance from her newborn. Babies always seemed so delicate, as if they'd break with the slightest touch.
It wasn't until the day before New Years that Hamish and I finally broke ground.
Hamish was lying on his patchwork play mat, while Hartley waved around a stuffed fish toy and made "blub-blub" noises. I sat beside them, watching as Hamish opened and closed his mouth.
"You want to join?" asked Hartley with a glance in my direction.
"Sure." Tentatively, I picked up a toy that somewhat resembled an orange blob with eyes. I held it over Hamish's head and gave it a little shake.
Hamish stared at me.
I stared back.
"I really don't think he likes me," I said.
Hartley snickered. "At least pretend like you're having fun."
I did my best to smile at the baby. I probably looked more demonic than anything else. "Look at me. I'm having so much fun."
Maybe the baby knew I wasn't his real aunt. Maybe, somewhere inside, he instinctively knew that I wasn't the real Marlene McKinnon, and he was treating me like a stranger as a result.
My fake smile faded. Poor Marlene. She never got to meet her nephew. She never got to see his dark hair, so much like Yuki's, or his brown eyes, so much like Owen's. She'd never see him wriggle around on this playmat or feel him hold her fingers in his frail hands.
Hamish swatted at the orange blob. He made a little cooing noise and then looked at me with his big, brown eyes.
I almost dropped the toy, I was so surprised. What had happened to the baby that hated me?
"You see her," said Hartley, waving the stuffed fish in my direction. "That's your silly aunt, Hamish. She's going to be a bad influence on your life. Just like your ma. And your grandma. Really all the women in your life are bad influences."
"Shut it." I chucked the orange blob at Hartley's head.
He ducked and laughed.
Little baby Hamish started cooing again.
I looked down at him and smiled. I spoke with a tenderness that surprised me as I said, "See, even Hamish knows you're talking nonsense."
The new year came, and 1977 turned into 1978.
How long had I been Marlene McKinnon now? Over three months. Long enough to see the seasons change, the first semester come to an end, and one year become the next. How many more years would I see as Marlene? One, two, three? Or maybe this was the last one.
And what about the people around me?
I watched as Collin and June shared their New Year kiss, as Owen and Yuki fussed over their baby sleeping in the bassinet, and as Hartley fed Maximus pieces of iced cake. What would happen to the McKinnons this year? The Harry Potter books had said they'd be murdered in the 1980s, which meant I still had two more years. Hopefully. When would there be another raid on the Aurors Office? When would danger come to the owlry in Diagon Alley? And after what had happened to Christine Loughty, was Hogwarts even a safe place for Hartley anymore? What could I do? How could I protect them? There were so many unknowns. So many variables. I couldn't possibly account for them all.
Still, I had a promise to fulfill. I had to protect these people. Marlene's family. That was the deal.
Owen's deep voice dragged me from my thoughts. "Have you sent out any letters about apprenticeships?"
I glanced up from my cup of eggnog. It took me a moment to register what he was saying. "Oh. Apprenticeships."
There it was again. The question of Marlene's future. Of my future. The image of my Christmas present, with its pictures of healing herbs and potion recipes, flashed through my mind. I ducked my head, glad that Collin and June weren't around to hear my answer.
"Not yet," I said. And then, with an honesty that surprised me, I added, "I've been avoiding it."
Owen and Yuki sat on the couch, each holding a glass of firewhiskey and sharing a slice of iced cake between them. June tended to baby Hamish in the kitchen, while Collin and Hartley stood on the other side of the room discussing Quidditch.
"What's holding you back?" asked Owen.
I couldn't stand the way Owen McKinnon looked at me. He was just like his da in that regard. Both he and Collin had this way of looking at me with such a gentle seriousness. They both wanted to hear what I had to say, to understand why I thought the way I did, to help me think through my troubles—
No, not me. I had to remember that this kindness wasn't for me.
Still, this was a question that I needed to ask myself: What did I want to do in the future?
If I wanted to avoid suspicion, I could follow Marlene's intended path. It wasn't too late to send out applications. With the help of Mary's ma, I was certain I could get an apprenticeship at St. Mungo's.
"It's just…" I hesitated. "I thought being a Healer was what I wanted. I planned on it, I chose my upper level courses around it. But now that it's time to apply for apprenticeships, I'm finding that it doesn't have the same appeal. I wanted to help people. I still want to help people. But as a Healer—having to deal with unruly patients, with people crying and screaming, with patients who got injured doing stupid things—is that really what I want? It just sounds miserable to me."
Owen and Yuki surveyed me silently, and then, Owen said, "You know, you're allowed to change your mind."
Was I? This was Marlene's path. She wanted to become a Healer. Who was I to take that away from her?
"He's a pain to listen to, isn't he? Not all of us knew what we wanted to be when we were five." Yuki took a sip of her firewhiskey and then said to me, "In our third year, I wanted to be auror."
Owen let out a low chuckle and sent his wife a knowing look.
Yuki lightly slapped his arm before continuing, "I would make a terrible auror. I'm dreadful at all those Ministry politics and I don't know when to keep my mouth shit. In our fourth year, I wanted to be a curse breaker at Gringotts. All edgy and cool. But then, I remembered that you need good reflexes to be a curse breaker, so I gave up on that real quick. Zero reflexes. Owen was the Quidditch player. Not me. Fifth year, I wanted to be a Arithmancer—"
"She hates numbers," said Owen.
Yuki shot him a playful glare. "Yes. Number are the bane of my existence. And then in our sixth year, I wanted to be a professor even though I hate teaching."
"She gets impatient too easily," said Owen.
"Seventh year, I wanted to be a herbologist. I got an apprenticeship lined up and everything. I worked at my apprenticeship for three months before I realized that plants and I did not get along. I remember," she smiled over at Owen, "coming to him one day in tears, saying I didn't want to see another plant for the rest of my life—"
"And that she'd rather be a troll farmer."
"Yes. Trolls are superior to Venomous Tentaculas. Owen, dear that he is, tired from a long day of auror training, sat me down, let me cry my eyes out, and then said it was fine. Just because I decided when I was seventeen that I wanted to be a herbologist, didn't mean I still needed to be a herbologist when I was eighteen. And that's how, after a lot of discussions and research, I got my apprenticeship with Mister Woodhowl, fixing awry enchantments." Yuki grinned at me. "I get to do what I'm good at, and I find new challenges every day. And, added bonus, I can work on dismantling the enchantments at home. With the little crying machine over there."
"What she's trying to say," said Owen, "is that you can change your mind about being a Healer, Marlene. And if you choose something else and then later change your mind, you're allowed to do that too."
"Until you find something you enjoy," said Yuki. "After all, it's your life. It'd suck arse if you spent it doing something you'd hate."
But this wasn't my life. This was Marlene's life. I had used her body for my own selfish needs. I was living her house, receiving the love from her family. I had taken the presents bought for her as if they were my own. This was Marlene's life, not mine. It was only mine until—
Until? Until when?
Until Marlene returned?
We had traded places. She had taken my place on the rain-soaked road, the life bleeding out of that body.
Marlene wasn't coming back.
"I understand." My voice came out as little more than a murmur. "Thank you."
"Of course," said Yuki with a smile. "We're always here if you need someone to talk to."
"If you don't become a Healer, have you given any thought as to what you do want to do?" asked Owen.
"No, not yet."
This was the honest answer. I had been so set on not uprooting Marlene's life that I hadn't even considered other possibilities.
"I'll think on it," I said. "And then talk to Professor Sprout."
The rain never stopped pouring. It filled my eyes, blurring my vision. My fingers dug into the asphalt.
Why can't you ever keep quiet? Why do you always have to be here? Why were you ever—
A hand clasped around my neck. Water filled my ears.
A green light.
"Marlene?"
A man's gentle voice shook me awake.
I blinked, trying to figure out why the world was pitch black. I staggered slightly, and a hand shot out to support me. Finally, I registered the small, white light hovering to my left. The light illuminated the worried face of Collin and the counters and cabinets of the McKinnon's kitchen.
Why was I here?
Collin provided the answer: "Were you…sleepwalking?"
Sleepwalking? I had never been sleepwalking in my life. Why had I started now? Did Marlene have a history of sleepwalking?
Collin must have noticed my pale face, because he quickly pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and said, "Have a seat."
He held me by the elbow and helped me settle into the chair.
"Is this your first time sleepwalking?" asked Collin as he took the seat next to me.
I frowned. It seemed that Marlene was not a habitual sleepwalker then if her own da didn't know about it.
"Yes," I said.
"Is there something you're worried about?" asked Collin. "I don't know much about sleepwalking, of course. But perhaps it's stress."
Was I stressed? Sure. About a million things. None that I could tell Marlene's da about, of course.
"You know how it is," I said, running a hand through my unruly auburn hair. "The war. Life. My last year of school. It all builds up."
"I know," said Collin. "But I hope you know I'm hear for you. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. It's not even about giving advice—though I do give great advice. I'm here if you need to vent, or a shoulder to cry on, or someone to tell you that you're loved. I'm here."
I stared at the calm, kind man for a moment. His dark eyes looked so sincere, so genuine in their kindness.
Did Marlene know that she had gotten the lucky draw when it came to parents?
Of course, she did. That's why she was willing to give up her life to save them.
I felt a small warmth begin to form in my chest. Suddenly, the corners of my mouth tugged upwards. I smiled at Marlene's father. A genuine, happy smile.
"Thank you, da," I said.
His eyes widened slightly. "For what?"
I accept my fate. But my family, my beloved family, to die like that. I cannot accept it. I will not accept it.
I shook my head and instead said, "Look after yourself. And ma. And Owen, Yuki, and Hamish. I'll take care of Hartley while we're at school."
…That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family.
"Oh, Marlene." Collin reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. Strong, warm, and comforting. "I know it's scary. I know the world isn't a safe place right now. But you don't need to take all this on yourself. We'll look after each other. I'll keep you safe."
I nodded, even if I couldn't believe his words.
You are now Marlene McKinnon, and you must save your family.
I would protect them. All of them.
Whatever horrible fate that had been predetermined for them, I would change it. After all, I had the books. I had my plans. I had the diadem. I would save the McKinnons, no matter the cost.
A/N: I live! Sorry it took so long to update. There were a lot of changes going on my life.
This and the last chapter were two that I've had planned since the beginning of the story. So I'm really happy I got to write them. I hope I conveyed their importance well. I'm not certain on this one, so I'm sorry if it's a bit lacking.
As always, thank you for reading my work!