October 1, 1995

It was bizarre to Mariah after years of juggling magical illnesses and injuries to now find herself clacking across the lacquered floors of the Ministry of Magic for a full day of paperwork. She brushed the ashes from her robes as she approached the lifts. She'd taken the Floo Network from her home, where she'd resided since her return from her mission abroad weeks earlier.

She'd waited a week to send an Owl to Kurt about the position, and, no doubt due to his influence, had secured it in just a few days. It wasn't a glamorous position – Assistant Archivist – but it paid. During her orientation on the first day, Eddie Corven had made it clear she would be spending the majority of her time in a backroom sorting files, which sounded much less stressful than any job she had previously held. 'The most recent job being 'spy',' she thought to herself.

Eddie Corven was the recruiter for multiple departments, and he seemed familiar enough with bureaucracy not to even ask how she'd gotten the job, droning her through proper timesheet conduct without so much as a sidelong glance or leading comment. Mariah had wondered exactly what sort of strings Kurt had pulled to get her the job, but then the phrase 'grease a few palms, suck a few dicks' came to mind like a feather on the wind, and Mariah missed half of what Eddie said about timesheets.

Today was the end of her first week, and though she was not looking forward to seeing Kurt, she was glad to be of use. She'd come in early in the hopes of avoiding him, and had been rewarded by the sight of his empty cubicle as she'd walked through the Obliviator Headquarters to the archive room. She wondered if he ever came in on time. She had only seen him briefly during her midday lunch break when she would leave the archive, but he had only made eye contact and smiled, but said nothing, which only put her more on her guard.

The archive room was small and crowded, but in a cozy way. Mariah appreciated the isolation, and busied herself with the massive stacks of unsorted files, sending them flying into alphabetical order in cabinets sorted by year. Most of the files were Muggles (in manila folders), but every so often there were witches and wizards (in red folders) and Mariah would take the time to read those files.

Muggle memory modification was a simple procedure, but when a witch or wizard had their memory modified, sometimes they would fight the charm. Mariah had had a long fascination with memory charms ever since her own experience when a memory of an attack on her home in her seventh year had been erased. There was no cure for a memory charm, but over the years she had had multiple dreams of her home being attacked, and though she knew it was more likely her imagination reconstructing what she had been told happened, she liked to think that somewhere deep in her brain she still had her memories.

The files themselves were old, some with notes scratched on the outside, as though they'd been the only paper available on someone's desk, an address here and there, a reminder to talk to someone about something. Many were stained with tea-rings, as though they'd been used as a coaster. Every so often a few would be stuck together with a mysterious substance, and Mariah used her wand to sort them, hovering them carefully so as not to spill the inner papers everywhere, trying to make out the name and date on the label.

It was a particularly thick one of these that caught her eye as she made out the date of November 1, 1981. Disregarding the heavy stains that marked the outside of the folder, Mariah seized the file and opened it slowly.

Everyone knew the incident that had changed the course of history on October 31, 1981. The day Harry Potter the Boy Who Lived had defeated Lord Voldemort when he was just a baby. The day Mariah's best friend Lily had been murdered, along with her husband. There had been plenty of violations of the International Statute of Secrecy that day – even that week – with witches and wizards celebrating in the streets with no regard for Muggle eyes. But Mariah knew from Muggle newspapers of the time that too many Muggles had seen signs of the celebrations for the Ministry to possibly control the situation with memory modification.

But another incident, far more infamous, had occurred November 1st, the following day, which had required heavy Obliviation charms, and had also changed the course of Mariah's life forever.

The first name was Marcin Kowalcyk, who had relayed to Mediwizards the final words of Peter Pettigrew as he had condemned Sirius for the murder of Lily and James. The second was Patty Jenkins, who had confirmed where Sirius had been standing, and that his wand had been in his hand, pointed at Peter when the street had exploded. The third was Manuel Coronado, who had described how Sirius had shot spells at Peter, cornering him, seething and swearing. Brandon O'Neil had heard Sirius threaten to kill Peter. Madeleine Jacques had seen Peter beg for his life.

'Gas explosion' was the simple explanation recorded in the modification notes, but fifty files conveyed the scene from a thousand angles: curiosity, suspense, fear, worry, concern, and then sudden, shrieking disaster. Mariah flipped through the pages, trying to find anything more about Sirius. One of the accounts, from a Yasmin Jeffries, had described the way the street had exploded, blowing the Muggles who had been standing nearby clear across the street, and how the pavement had struck the people standing near her, injuring one, killing two others. She mentioned seeing Sirius on the ground, bleeding but alive. And even though it had happened fourteen years previously, Mariah found herself flipping to the next account muttering to herself, "Bleeding where?"

One man had tried to approach Sirius when he'd started threatening Peter, trying to talk him down. No one knew his name, but he was described in several accounts. Mariah wondered if they'd recovered his body, or if he'd been too close to the blast. Some accounts referred to dismembered limbs in the aftermath. Mariah remembered reading the report in the Daily Prophet when she'd been released from Azkaban and worked up the nerve. All they'd found of Peter had been his finger.

She suddenly realized her hands were shaking. She closed the file, feeling her heart wrench as she did. She tossed it to the floor, and put her face in her hands. This was a familiar feeling, one that had haunted her for years. For so many nights, she had lain awake shivering, agonizing, thinking, 'I should have been there.' She didn't know what she would've done. In the past she thought she could have stopped Sirius, but now that she knew Peter to be the culprit, she knew there was less she could have done, and the feeling stuck in her throat.

"It would've changed nothing," she whispered to herself. "There was nothing I could do. It was a tragic misunderstanding, there was nothing I could do…"

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the clock on the wall. It was after noon. She needed to walk this off.

Mariah got to her feet, taking a deep breath. The air was suddenly much thicker, and she felt claustrophobic. She grabbed her bag and left the archive, trying to think of where she could go to eat the sack lunch she'd packed.

She almost didn't look up on her way out, except that someone was standing in the walkway to the lift, deep in discussion by Kurt's desk. She looked up to apologize for stepping around but stopped when she recognized the ice-blue stare from Platform 9 ¾.

"Oh, well well, Mrs. Black, how fascinating to see you here," said Lucius Malfoy, raising an eyebrow. "No dog today?"

"You know very well it's Miss Jaeger," said Mariah.

"Miss Jaeger has taken a position with us," said Kurt, grinning at Malfoy. "She is officially an employee of the Ministry."

"Is she now," said Malfoy, looking at Kurt with much less warmth. "Funny, I thought the Ministry had higher standards. Some might find it unsettling to think that our government is being run by the families of murderers."

"Don't worry Lucius, I'm keeping a close eye on her," said Kurt, winking. Mariah looked at Lucius's deeply annoyed face and felt a brief kindred sentiment.

"Is Eddie in?" asked Lucius.

"Out sick today," said Kurt. "You'll have to catch him on your next visit, I'm afraid."

"Shame," said Lucius. His hands flexed on his cane. "Well, Lovell I'll be dropping by your house about that artifact."

"Looking forward to it, Lucius," said Kurt. "And if you find interest in anything else you see, please, take it off my hands. I've got too much as it is."

Lucius Malfoy left with a nod to Kurt, but without another glance at Mariah. She watched him go, feeling annoyed.

"Making friends already," said Kurt. Mariah forgot she had intended to ignore him.

"What does Lucius Malfoy have to do at the Ministry?" she asked. Kurt shrugged.

"Oh, he is a regular financier, and loves to be involved in politics without ever setting foot on a ballot," he said. "He keeps close friends in most offices. I wouldn't be surprised if it was him keeping you out of a job."

"Great," said Mariah, and Kurt smirked.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," he said. Mariah rolled her eyes.

"What is Malfoy picking up from your house?" she asked.

"Oh, some old trinkets left by my father. They're just clutter to me, but Lucius has an affinity for such things."

"I'm sure," said Mariah grimly. For a brief time she had resided in Kurt's home, and though she did not remember much from that era, she remembered the basement, cluttered to the ceiling with dark magical objects that his father had used to sell before his imprisonment in Azkaban. She'd been forbidden to touch anything.

"Where are you off to?" asked Kurt.

"Lunch," said Mariah.

"Want company?"

"I actually have to run an errand," lied Mariah.

"I'm great company on errands," said Kurt, grinning. Mariah stared at him.

"Not on your life, sport," she said dryly, heading to the elevator.

"Perhaps someday on yours," she heard Kurt call after her.

Mariah took a lap around the atrium before ultimately sitting beside the Fountain of Magical Brethren to eat. She eyed the small sign that stood next to it as she ate her hastily-assembled sandwich.

All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Mariah wondered if she would ever be a Healer again. She didn't miss the sleepless nights, or the internal politics of the hospital, but she missed feeling like her job meant something. Even on the nights when she guarded the Department of Mysteries, she knew she was being useful, but she couldn't help feeling a little silly at the same time. It was hard to feel essential to the Order while standing in a hallway for 8 hours with several files on hand so she could look busy if necessary. She knew it was vital for her to be there, but in the long hours of the night in an empty Ministry she found herself thinking about how Sturgis Podmore had been Imperiused so easily and wondered if she would fare any better.

Kingsley had managed to get an elevator alone with Mariah on her first day and verbally pass on the guard schedule, but she'd had no updates since then. She hadn't dared return to Grimmauld place since she'd applied for the job in case Kurt was watching her house, nor had she attended any Order meetings, figuring that one of the other Ministry Order members would let her know if her presence was necessary. But she knew that part of her absence had nothing to do with keeping up appearances to the Ministry.

Mariah got to her feet, balling up the trash from her lunch and vanishing it with her wand. She felt restless sitting still.

As much as she hated to admit it, she found herself revisiting the idea of a divorce more and more since she had left Grimmauld Place. It had been impossible to consider after weeks in that dark house, horns locked with Sirius's own in what seemed to be their eternal conflict. But now, in her own home, away from the nostalgic ghosts of her past that haunted the halls of Hogwarts, and the gaunt, moody, unapproachable Sirius who had returned from Azkaban, she had the space to think.

Reading Sirius's file had brought her back a time long past, the confusion, the mistrust, the pain. But though she still felt prickles of fear and loss twinge painfully now and then, they felt like the ghost of a feeling, and Mariah could suddenly feel the long distance she had since traveled since the raw grief that had split her in twain all those years ago. Though the world was as oppressive as it had been when they first graduated, she was older now, and no longer felt the darkness within herself threatening to swallow her whole. She felt like something had been restored to her, in Sirius and Remus and Harry. Something had been lifted from her shoulders in the meeting with Roxana, and her open wounds now felt like old scars, the pain distant, as though it had happened a lifetime before.

Mariah felt a little sad for the loss of the person she had been, and a little fearful at the prospect of discovering who she was now. But mercifully, for the first time, she could think clearly.