Chapter 6 - Lizzie's Secret

Charlie woke up to empty sheets next to him, but it was much too early for Lizzie to have been awake on purpose. Downstairs, there was no trace that coffee had been brewed. There was a thick layer of fog outside the windows and a feeling of complicated dread washed over him. Instead of summoning her, which would only prove to make her resentful, he pulled on a jumper and headed outside. The door to his work shed was ajar and he pushed it open to see that someone, no doubt Lizzie, had examined his collection. Charlie had been experimenting with dragons blood for years. It began during the war. While Lizzie hunted horcruxes with Ron and Hermione, he set out to figure out a way to abate the ophidian curse that would have crippled her from the inside had she faced Voldemort without the remedy. It was a feat that steered Draco in his direction, but that wasn't the only reason he continued the research.

He didn't make it to Romania as often as he did when they were younger, not since taking the Hogwarts position. He had plans to go before term started, but shelved it for the time being with another child in their care and the looming pressure of figuring out what happened to Ivy.

He trudged through the dreary morning with his hands buried deep in his pockets. Not knowing where his wife was set his heart on edge, but given the circumstances, his rational brain knew she wouldn't have abandoned them on a whim. Charlie looked up at a hooting noise from a nearby tree and smiled fondly at Hedwig perched on a tree branch. She flapped her wings and extended them wide as if to say hello. When he held his elbow out in an inviting way, she landed on his arm and her talon dug slightly into his sleeve. Rolled up on her ankle was a small bit of parchment he took and smoothed out to read:

Out looking for her. I'll be back.

He exhaled a sigh of relief and retreated to the house where he sat reading the paper and creating a lesson plan for classes until the kids finally started to trickle down sluggishly into the kitchen for food.

"Pancakes?" James asked at the bottom of the stairs, his hair had never looked messier, and he yawned wide. Charlie accommodated the request and the breakfast was well received by everyone, except Annie, who pushed them around her plate looking desperate to eat without a shred of appetite.

"Can I make you something else? I can make anything," Charlie offered when he noticed. Annie pushed the plate away and dropped the fork with frustrated energy before leaving without a word or even a glance at her father. She rubbed the crook of her arm where it was sore. His shoulders sunk in shame but he let her resentment simmer.

"Where's Lizzie?" Teddy asked. "Did she take Padfoot?" He added, looking around and not seeing the dog they'd recently adopted.

"Looking for Ivy," Charlie said, stealing a look at Allyssa in the living room flipping absently through pages of her History of Magic textbook. Charlie sat down adjacent to her and got her attention. "How are you holding up?" He asked. She gave him a perplexed look.

"She'll be back, if you're worried she's left again," Ally said and Charlie looked confused.

"I know that..." he said carefully.

"She's going to find my sister, in plain sight, but I don't know when..." she added.

"Do you know where?" He asked. Ally shook her head. "Ivy looks different when I see her in visions, using a different name, maybe Natalie... I really couldn't tell from something she wrote, maybe it was a hospital form. Short hair, blonde, there's a man with her but I can't make him out. I see Lizzie, but it's not actually Lizzie..."

Charlie stared at his hands in contemplation, he had a hunch what she was referring to, but the white-eyed Lizzie that roamed free of the real one died with Voldemort thirteen years ago.

Lizzie headed down a London alley not a block from Janine's coffee shop with a leash and a dog in hand. She'd been walking and looking for signs of anything suspicious for a couple of hours before the Cafe was scheduled to open for the day. In her opinion, it would not have been hard for Ivy and Sarah to slip down one of numerous allies and get on either a double decker bus to Kings Cross, or perhaps the underground. That is, if she in fact ran away without casting the least bit of suspicion she was going to.

Two things were sitting wrong with Lizzie. The first was Dudley's heavy hand about forbidding Ivy to see Sarah. The second was a dream she had of someone quite clearly saying 'I got you,' which could indicate Ally's suspicions about Dennis would be the best lead. If she hadn't left willingly though, Lizzie couldn't imagine a muggle easily pulling it off without either a ruckus being made, or someone seeing a young girl being carried off by an older man.

The bell chimed on the door of the Cafe and Janine looked surprised to see Lizzie.

"Little early for you, isn't it?" She asked. Lizzie nodded fervently with a bit of weak laugh, pointing to the espresso machine desperately as she sat at the counter. The place was deserted and it was a perfect time to talk.

"Janine, please be really honest with me, Dudley has never laid a hand on any of you, has he?" Lizzie asked before she could think too hard about it.

"Not the girls, never the girls. He's slapped me occasionally, impulsively, but..." she said meekly. "It was nothing like Dennis."

"You can't compare it to the worst and say that makes it ok," Lizzie interjected.

"I know that, I'm just... he wouldn't hurt them. But he is shaken by this. He's not stable right now. I'm glad you have Ally for the time being."

Lizzie nodded. "She can always stay with us. Our home will be hers whenever she needs it." Janine nodded appreciatively.

"Is there anything?" She asked, referring to Ivy. Lizzie shook her head.

"Ally thinks Dennis may have found her, but I'm having him tracked down. I'm inclined to believe that's probably the most likely as well..." Lizzie explained.

"Anything leading you to believe that other than her...age...?" Janine asked. Lizzie thought about explaining the dream but decided not to alarm her.

"I just know even though my uncle wanted to desperately be rid of me, he was not ever going to give up on marrying me off to someone. He was determined to impose his will more than he was determined to see me out of their life. Their will is a force to be reckoned with because they truly believe it's God's..." Lizzie explained.

"Can you tell me anything about Dennis?" Lizzie asked. Janine gave a pained expression and ran her hands back through her hair.

"He's obsessive about everything. Easily triggered. Type A to say the least. It was hard to get anything past him. He became buligerent very quickly..." she said.

"Who were his friends, do you remember?" Lizzie asked.

"Damien Whalen before he died, they were pre-med students together. Your uncle... Richard Lupton, Timothy Coldwater... Oscar Kellison. They used to come over for drinks and card games on Fridays..." she explained.

Lizzie drank the rest of her coffee in large gulps trying to swallow down some resurfaced pain. Janine came around the counter to feed the dog some coffee flavored treats. "What's his name?" She asked, rubbing the black fur around generously behind his ears.

"Padfoot," Lizzie said. "My godfather's nickname... but that's a long story. He broke out of prison to come find and protect me when he thought I was in danger. I'm trying to harness that energy..." Lizzie said.

"What happened to him?" She asked. "Is he the one who lives with you?"

"No... no he died in the war... Remus took on that role," she explained.

"I think it's wonderful you took on caring for his son..." she said.

"Well, my father was one of his best friends, and Teddy's mum was one of mine. It came very easily," Lizzie said.

"I imagine it's hard to feel the same about Dudley and his girls, considering."

"No, Janine. The girls are easy to love. Children shouldn't be on the receiving end of animosity toward their parents," Lizzie reassured her.

"I'm going to go check in at the ministry and see if there are any leads or information, if so I'll come back this afternoon, ok?" Lizzie said.

"Is Ally doing alright?" Janine asked.

"She's holding up, Annie and Teddy will be able to keep her company. Remus and my husband are easy to get along with too. She's safe. I promise," Lizzie said. She paused on a thought.

"What is Sarah's last name? Mind if I go talk to her?" Lizzie added.

"Coldwater. She lives with her grandmother here in London. Please tread carefully about their relationship... her family is... they're like ours..." Janine said carefully.

"Heather's daughter?" Lizzie asked, goosebumps erupting on her skin. Janine nodded.

"Heather died, back in 1999. Did you hear how? She murdered her husband and then herself. I don't think she ever forgave herself for what happened to Beth Lawrence, I'm sure you remember," Janine said. Lizzie felt a rock in her chest.

"Sarah grew up in the church?" Lizzie asked with a dry throat. "Maybe she was trying to escape and Ivy was helping her?"

"No, I mean she did when her parents were alive. When her grandfather died, her grandmother moved them to London. She's no longer affiliated with the church, they excommunicated her," she said.

"Why?" Lizzie asked.

"Because the church wanted to enroll Sarah in Sacred Heart, they started to threaten her with seizing custody of Sarah and her brother, as a woman her age was considered unfit to parent. She fled, the state couldn't do anything about it, it's all in their heads that their church actually has any legal authority," Janine explained. "She peeled them away from Heather's husband's parents and adopted them so they couldn't get their hands on them. Her daughter's psychotic break opened her eyes, despite her actually being one of the lucky ones..."

Lizzie was quiet in contemplation, she knew what caused Heather's psychotic break and it had everything to do with herself. Janine gave her Sarah's address but nobody answered the door when she paid their house a visit. She decided to take a longer stroll than she anticipated to Grimmauld Place. It had been years since she stepped foot in the house, but decided to brave a visit, wondering if Kreacher still existed in its walls or if he departed with the freedom she gave him.

She let Padfoot off the leash and he climbed the dark winding stairs almost immediately to Sirius's bedroom. She stopped at the doorway and her heart hurt to take it in. She watched the dog curl up in a ball on the bed and the thought dawned on her. In her pouch, the same handy pouch Hagrid had given her for her eighteenth birthday, was the first snitch she caught playing quidditch, and inside rested the stone she swore not to retrieve after her daughter was born. The last time she used it was to see her mother that night she gave birth when there was nobody else around to help her.

"Surely you're not him, right?" She asked the dog as she sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. The dog perked up his ears, but the answer was no. Lizzie pressed the snitch to her mouth and plucked the stone. Standing in front of her leaning into the chest of drawers was Sirius looking rather grim. His arms were crossed over his chest and his feet crossed at his ankles where he stood. The look he gave her was intent and severe.

"You don't have to look that serious," she said and watched a smirk crack his face.

"You look pretty good for thirty," he said.

"One, thirty one," Lizzie corrected, he waved it off.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked.

"I'm - I'm at a loss," she said, suddenly dumbstruck.

"I'm expecting myself to protect my kids, not just my kids even, and I don't think - I don't think I can," she admitted reluctantly.

"You're asking the wrong person. I didn't protect you," he replied grimly.

"You were in prison," she said quietly.

"And could have easily escaped sooner," he added. "I didn't, haven't forgiven myself for that," he continued.

"You're not who I blame. I just wish we had... time. More time," Lizzie said sadly.

"Enjoy the time you have with your family. You have a beautiful family and deserve every bit of it. As for protecting them, you've already done more for them than I was ever able to do for you," he replied.

"I wish we had... more time," Lizzie whispered.

"There are some relationships you're never going to have. But it's going to make the ones you do more valuable. I knew I wouldn't have children, I wanted this family to die. I knew I'd lost my brother, and your dad filled the void. You should have gone to me, but I let you down in that capacity. You didn't get to be anyone's daughter, but that's made you a fiercer mother. You were made to be a mother I think because you weren't a daughter..." he watched her face muscles lose integrity at the sentiment. He couldn't hug her though he wanted to. She laid down and wrapped an arm around the dog instead, suddenly too tired to think.

Lizzie woke in the bed in Grimmauld Place to a pair of a huge and disdainful eyes staring back. "Azalea Potter," Kreacher groaned. Lizzie groaned back and rolled over. "Azalea Potter's husband is here," he said. Lizzie jolted and sat up sharply and tried to reorient herself. She'd fallen asleep here and didn't have a memory of how. It wasn't unusual for her mind to turn off when under severe amounts stress. She heard footsteps on the stairs and watched with a twinge of trepidation as Charlie pushed the door open. He looked worried and a little angry.

"Thanks for not summoning me..." Lizzie said with a little bit of bitterness. He exhaled.

"Ally really needs someone to talk to, Lizzie," he said and sat down next to the dog as he looked around the room. Lizzie flinched as she sat up because her body hurt. He reached out for her arm but she flinched involuntarily. "Come on, we ought to go home..." he bargained.

Lizzie sat at the edge of the bed and rubbed her face. He rubbed her shoulders mechanically and a strange feeling washed over her body. She felt tense when hands moved from her shoulders around her body. She tried to buck away but hands held her firm. There was a window high up near the ceiling, and she was no longer in Grimmauld Place. The hands weren't Charlie's. "I'm not going to hurt you," the voice whispered in her ear, and she cringed before realizing Charlie had a firm grip on her upper arm, catching a fall off the edge the bed.

"Hey, have you been drinking?" He asked, worried as she reoriented herself again. Lizzie shook her head no and was confused.

"Someone has her," she said quietly and chewed her cheeks. "I can't tell where she is but someone has her..."

"Ivy? Honey, you should really go talk to Ally. I think she's more like you than you realize," Charlie said.

Lizzie and Charlie walked the dog down to the sidewalk outside when Lizzie took off in a brisk walk toward a main street to find a telephone booth. Charlie had to jog to keep up after her. "Where are you going?" He asked.

"Phone booth, I should call Justin's dad," Lizzie said, looking around feverishly for one in range. She spotted a narrow red booth down the block and crossed the busy street to bypass the crosswalk. Her fingers fidgeted on the dial pad trying to remember the number. "Ethan Finch-Fletchly's office, Cynthia speaking," a woman said sweetly from the speaker Lizzie was pressing hard into her ear.

"Hi, Cynthia, is Mr. Finch-Fletchly available? This is Lizzie Potter, I met with him recently, I have some additional information about our case," Lizzie asked.

"Sure, one moment," she said and transferred the line.

"Ethan speaking," a man said a few moments later.

"Hi, thanks so much for taking the call, this is Lizzie. I spoke to Janine Landry earlier and have some additional names to run searches on, if you don't mind..." she said and gave him the list.

"Janine gave me those as well when I spoke to her earlier... I haven't called her yet, but perhaps it's better you know first and can gauge how to tell them. Dennis Landry is dead, at least per records it appears he is. All of the men listed are. Sarah was institutionalized not long ago at a place just west of London, St. Catherine's. It used to be a Cyprian detention school for troubled girls, it's still owned by a Catholic denomination but it doesn't appear the Cyprians control it. They haven't controlled anything out here exclusively like they had since about 2002.." he explained. Lizzie washed over with uncertainty and confusion.

"She was - ok - then who could possibly have taken Ivy?" Lizzie said mostly to herself.

"Lizzie, do you want me to call Janine and your cousin about the news?" He asked.

"Um, yes, could you... I've got -" Lizzie said, pinching the bridge of her nose in intense thought. She looked up at the reflection in the window and saw a man with a coffee who looked familiar. "Thank you, Ethan," she said abruptly and hung up the receiver.

"Christopher?" Lizzie asked at the man now down the street a ways. He turned and frowned at her and Charlie, with a lag in recognition. She hurried toward him.

She read something strange from the look on his face that gave her pause. "We've met but you wouldn't remember us, I left your receptionist a message to contact a solicitor..." she explained.

He frowned at her, "I haven't been able to contact him yet, but most of those creeps left and settled out in British Virgin and Cayman Islands, that's all the information I'd be able to give him."

"Apparently they're dead," Lizzie said. "I just spoke to him."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time they legitimately faked deaths..." he stared at her and she could read from him that he knew exactly who she was.

"I'm sorry we didn't take you with us," he added after a long pause. This took Lizzie aback. "That haunted her, that haunted both of us." Lizzie exhaled shakily.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean..." she said weakly, guilt rising over her involvement in his girlfriend Nadine's ultimate death. Her brain wrapped like a snare around the memory of being trapped in Nadine's grave, of cruelly realizing what had happened so many years later.

"Do you know what happened to her?" He asked.

Lizzie stared, she didn't have words. "Are you still Catholic?" She asked curiously. Rosary beads could be seen under the collar of his flannel jacket.

"No... I never really was... what's peaking your interest in this now exactly?" He asked.

"My niece is missing, Ivy, we think they're involved..." she said. He nodded with empathy.

"I hope it doesn't take you twenty years to figure out what happened," he said.

"Listen, I have to go, there's a custody hearing for some charges we were hosting. If I'm made aware of anything, I will reach out, but those men aren't dead, I'm willing to bet a hefty amount of money on that. Tell him to check Cayman Islands, but it may take boots on the ground," he said. Lizzie turned slowly down the street in idle thought.

"How is your baby?" Christopher asked and it made her stop dead. She turned and stared.

"I'm sorry?" She asked.

"Your baby. It took me a long time to place who you were after you showed up at the center, that you were the little girl who begged us for a ride to London... and then you were holding a baby and had a little girl in hand, so I assumed you were escaping a marriage. You seemed eager to get rid of them and then rather abruptly changed your mind. Did that work out?" He asked. Air caught in Lizzie's chest. He was talking about Annie and Ivy. She nodded politely but no words formed to reply. Christopher retreated down the street. Charlie picked up the dog and seized Lizzie's upper arm. With a loud crack they were gone.

The grip he had on her arm might have started to bruise when they appeared near the house. "Charlie, let go," Lizzie said. He was walking them toward the shed down the path that Remus used for full moons. Padfoot growled apprehensively. He let go rather harshly and slammed the door shut behind him. He stared at her in furious silence for a moment. All she could read from him was anger, but his eyes welled and composure started to break.

"You took her THERE?" He yelled. Lizzie held her breath. "You would have abandoned OUR DAUGHTER at THAT orphanage!" He roared. "Were you out of your God damn mind?!"

"I was... quite literally out of my mind," she said quietly.

"LIZZIE!" He grabbed his hair in fistfuls.

"You would have deprived her of a family. I have forgiven you time over for leaving because that was understandable even though you vanished without a fucking word! I felt sorry for you to have given birth alone... but abandoning her, even just considering abandoning her THERE... instead of with me... I can't even begin to fathom that! And IVY? You had Annie at Aberforth's! Did you go abduct Ivy?"

"I came back after that, Charlie," she whispered, tears rolling down her face. "I came back... I went to visit Janine and check on her, I wanted to introduce Annie to Ivy. We went for ice cream and I ended up at the orphanage. I don't know what I was thinking, but I CAME BACK."

"Why would you have EVER gone there?" He asked hotly.

She was silent while she swallowed a mixture of guilt and shame. "The thought dawned on me to leave them there. I can't explain to you what that was like...I was really scared of... something... I can't tell you at this point what exactly that was. I was scared of Annie, Charlie, I was really scared of her, not of taking care of her, but of the baby in my arms. I was scared for Ivy to grow up like me."

He clenched his jaw and looked around in disbelief.

"Allyssa says she has had visions of you that aren't you, if she's talking about what I think she's talking about, that died in the courtyard with Voldemort didn't it?" He asked. Lizzie's mouth twitched anxiously.

"His did. But my soul split when I killed him..." she said in a small voice. "Similar thing happened when I killed my uncle, I had to kill the split too..."

"Why would that split either time? That's self defense or vengeance at best," he asked.

"No, it was malice. Both of them were doomed to die already, and I wanted to be the one to do it, it was hateful, it was more than vengeance. It didn't split when I killed Peter or Damien. I didn't hate them the same, I thought they were pathetic and needed retribution. My uncle and Riddle, I would have dismembered alive if I could have. The hatred was deep, there was pure malice..." she attempted to explain.

"Did you kill it?" He asked, his face was white. "I've never seen it," he added.

Lizzie shook her head. "Not while pregnant, you risk death when you do that, its a sort of judgment. It's one of the reasons I stayed away from you all. I think it's one of the reasons Dudley is still afraid of me..." her voice was shaking. Charlie reached for her face and held it.

"What happened to it?" He asked. Tears welled in Lizzie's eyes rapidly, but he wouldn't let go of her face, he needed an answer.

"I - I tried to kill myself when I had her. Put an end to it all. Aberforth would have found her. But I panicked, with all the Hallows even under the worst conditions I can say no to death... it's gone... can you just trust me that it's gone?" She said.

"I don't think you're telling me everything..." he said, his face was firm with resolve but also drowning in pity.

"Charlie, I don't remember why I was so scared to come to you. I don't know why. I was scared of her. I was scared of YOU. I got rid of it, I tried to get rid of her too. I wasn't going to come back. Even when I did I still considered leaving... but at least she'd be with a family," Lizzie whispered. He closed his eyes to close her off to something he was thinking and shook his head.

"I don't believe that, you've always had a good heart," he said with a cracked voice.

"No, my mum did. Mine was always cold, but it craved warmth as much as it craved to stop beating entirely..." she said sadly. He rubbed a thumb over her cheek bone and guilt rose in his chest. He exhaled to relieve the pressure before he turned to leave the shed.

"Charlie, I wouldn't have abandoned her. Even at my most vulnerable, I didn't. Even scared of her, as a baby... I couldn't," she said.

"Why is Ally seeing your doppelganger, Lizzie?" He asked. She closed her eyes and remembered the outline of her mother pleading with her when in labor with Annie, she'd dropped the resurrection stone and the figure changed. Even though she had already sliced through her abdomen she experienced more pain than she had in her life pulling her daughter from her body and away from the sinister figure. In a haze of desperation she reached for a cross on a string of beads on her nightstand before she blacked out in pain. When she'd woken up, it was gone, her child was feeding against her chest, and she'd been mended. Lizzie hadn't seen the figure again since and hadn't felt her presence since the prior night and the afternoon in London, almost like they casually crossed in passing.