October 16, 1996

UPRISING IN YELLOWSTONE

At the top of the article was a picture of my father in a heavy forest, his wand drawn with a ferocious look in his eyes as he yelled at retreating figures, the picture version of my father conjuring a shield to protect himself from the volley of flaming arrows. There was fight in his eyes as the arrows bounced off his shield.

"Why are you running?" MACUSA President Jack Graves shouted to a group of Law Enforcement officials who were beginning a retreat from assailing werewolf forces in the deep forest of Yellowstone National Park as arrows of fire fell from the sky and trees began to tremble with magic as the battlefield began to come to life. Law Enforcement quickly fell back into line at the admonishment to begin the assault on the rebellious werewolves, who seemed to be slobbering at the opportunity to assault MACUSA officials with their affliction.

Beginning his career in MACUSA's Auror Department until a fall off a fourth floor fire escape put him on a path to politics, Jack Graves is quickly becoming one of the most hands-on presidents in recent memory. Famous on the floor of the senate for fiery speeches and a collection of binders containing information about the intricacies of law and policy among the MACUSA Senate, President Graves is already proving himself as a steady hand at the helm of a country embroiled in changing times for society.

Fresh off a meeting with the No-Maj president, Graves stated that it seemed the beginning of a decent partnership before clarifying that the No-Maj president was a charming, charismatic individual who seemed to the MACUSA's change in power in stride. Reportedly the two men share an interest and appreciation for the saxophone, as President Graves' brother plays the instrument with his brother-in-law's jazz band, Faux Tux.

President Graves, according to reports from Yellowstone, chose to lead the Aurors himself in an assault on the Yellowstone Werewolf Pack and their allies from Yosemite. Rumors claim that the Denali Pack of Alaska is preparing to come and offer support to their fellow werewolves per the revised American Werewolf Pack Agreement of 1981 in what is quickly becoming the first real test of werewolf solidarity in America and the power of the Pack Counsel.

I put the paper down and rolled my eyes. Jack Graves was very serious about being a commander in chief, a proud tradition of MACUSA leaders was to lead from the front lines as needed. Jack was a steady hand at the helm, but he always needed things done his way with minimal input from those around him. He was always convinced he knew best and gave way only in the most minuscule of ways.

The paper was folded and slid into my desk drawer with a sigh. I hoped Jack was safe. I hoped he didn't get bit by a werewolf. It was really the minimum a man could expect from an estranged daughter.

At least America did not have an equivalent to Fenrir Greyback, a name that sent cold chills up my spine. The article that I had read earlier this week spoke of how dangerous he was, that he was a werewolf who had a preference for children. A monster who, rumor had it, had taken to attacking people even out side of a full moon. Though, the other rumor about Greyback eating the flesh of his latest victims was something I found far more horrific. Disgusting, horrid monster!

I took a deep breath and adjusted the new ink holder on my desk, a spinning plate that had small sections the perfect size for my preferred refillable inkwells with a container for extra quills in the center. An anonymous gift for my birthday. Though, I had suspicions about who actually sent it. I glanced around them to Percy's empty desk with a sigh, grateful the rest of the office had been sent out for various meetings around the Ministry. I was staying behind to do paperwork and watch the office.

Frankly, half of the office could stand to be away more often.

Oo0Oo0

October 18, 1996

I stepped out of the fireplace a few minutes before I was set to meet this mysterious Headmaster and took in this beautiful office. It was spacious and welcoming with the fluffy red carpet and old oak bookshelves covered in an array of books and silver instruments that I was unable to place the purpose of. They seemed silly and nonsensical, perhaps just oddly shaped decorations at heart with no real purpose or they were powerful magical artifacts.

My attention drifted to the portraits on the walls where many of the occupants snored in their frames, some with one eye conspicuously opened to watch me. Except for one empty portrait who I assumed was out to look for the Headmaster to tell him his guest had arrived.

I admired the historical objects on display in the room, a sword with a ruby emblazoned hilt that shimmered in the light. I noted the name on the blade, Godric Gryffindor.

Hm. Did old Gryffindor use his sword for spellwork or as a stylistic choice?

What caught my attention next was a ragged hat on a shelf, it was worn and seemed unusual in what was so far a very historically rich office. I looked around and picked it up to examine it closer, it seemed thin in places, dirty and in need of repair. I wondered why it had been so neglected.

"Perhaps I like the way I look."

I dropped the hat with a shriek, backing away as it hit the floor. Low chuckles and scoldings from the portraits a mingled cacophony in my ears.

"Rude," the brim of the hat opened to allow an imitation of a croaky voice to escape.

"I'm so sorry," I knelt down next to the talking hat and gently picked it up by the brim, holding it as far from myself as I could manage like it was a wild animal. Some part of me was afraid it would try to bite me. "I'll put you back!"

"I don't remember you."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You never attended Hogwarts. Has Dumbledore hired you?" There was some force keeping the hat in my hands, as if it refused to be put back on the shelf while it tried to figure me out.

"No, I went to Ilvermorny. I'm just here to talk to the Headmaster." I moved the hat closer to me, feeling more comfortable with the hat as it continued to speak. "Why do you think he hired me?"

"Foreign teachers will sometimes be sorted if there is a need to fill a Head of House position. Guiding young people is easier when core values are shared."

Wait a second…

"Are you the Sorting Hat?"

"Yes."

"I didn't think you'd be so… grody."

There was a barking laugh from one of the portraits that was pretending to be asleep.

I could feel the hat glaring at me as another portrait spoke in its defense. "Really! Low blow from a sooty yankee!"

Oh, Yankee. How original! I felt my eyes roll as I placed the hat on the shelf reverently with a quick apology as the portraits began a tirade.

"Americans are a pest!" An old woman exclaimed from her chair, waving her wand within her frame.

"They're too happy!" Another portrait chimed in.

"Smiling all the time!"

"They're late to every war!" An old battle-scarred warlock said from his portrait.

"While we do all the work!" A woman with a monocle spat from her frame.

"And they claim all the credit!" The battle-scarred warlock finished the refrain as he waved his wand angrily.

The office door swung open with a creak and the portraits quickly grew silent and still as Dumbledore stepped into the room.

Dumbledore looked like every picture I had ever seen of him, his long white hair and matching beard shimmered like moonlight, his crooked nose as if from an unhealed break supported half moon spectacles and could not hide his twinkling blue eyes that pictures in history books could not capture as he walked towards me to shake my hand in greeting.

"You must be Miss Graves."

I noted his shriveled, black hand with a wince before I collected myself.

"Mr. Dumbledore!" One of the portraits was giggling. "I'm so sorry about this!"

I was suddenly unsure how to address this man, he was never a teacher or authority figure in my life and the formalities of letters never translated well to the spoken word.

I wished I had put more thought into this endeavor.

"There is nothing to worry about. Please, have a seat." The Headmaster gave me an absentminded smile and walked towards his desk, his vibrant violet robes contrasting with the rest of the room in a spectacular fashion. As he sat behind his desk he gave me an encouraging nod and I took the empty seat across from him. It was a comfortable chair that was both soft and supportive. A chair that was worthy of short naps.

"It is unusual for a House Elf to be so freely devoted to a wizard," he smiled indulgently as he began to speak, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "To cross continents after being freed is no small feat."

"Tinsy has always been unusually driven."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"I only asked Tinsy to take the letter to you, I did not think she would be so literal in stalking you to put it into your hands."

"Until I read the contents of your letter, I thought Scrimgeour was showing some rarely displayed creativity."

"I am very sorry about that."

"There is no need, it's rare that anyone threatens to cut off my toes with such conviction." He stated this with an airy chuckle that made me slump down in my very soft chair. I had not heard this part of Tinsy's delivery report. She only told me she stayed to watch him read the letter before leaving.

"I know you're a very busy man, Headmaster, and I won't take much of your time, but I was hoping you could help me find my brother, Alex Graves?" I pulled out the interview my brother had done with Dumbledore before the Triwizard Tournament. "You interviewed with him for the Daily Prophet?"

"Ah, I do remember him. Such a serious young man, very articulate, we spoke for a couple of hours about international affairs and wizarding school competition. I was hoping he would come back for the tournament, but the Daily Prophet sent Rita Skeeter instead." I could tell by his tone and the slight shake of his head that this Rita Skeeter was not an impressive journalist.

"I've spoken with other papers that my brother has written for and no one has seen him since Voldemort's return at the end of the tournament." I paused, watching Dumbledore's face for anything I could use. His expression grew increasingly intrigued after I said Voldemort's name, like he did not expect that from me or anyone else. "The same period of time that you, presumably, began to act apart from the Ministry of Magic." I paused for a moment, he was silent, seeming to sense I had more to say. "I do not care how you spend your time, if you want to spend it riding unicorns, having tea with political radicals or fighting dark wizards, that's your prerogative. My only concern in this meeting is to try and find my brother. Nothing will get back to the Ministry about anything we discuss today. That much I promise."

"That is a noble undertaking, Miss Graves. You have much love and affection for your brother."

My eyes drifted to his blackened hand once more, I thought it looked burned, like those pictures from the old files Grandpa Atticus researched with his cold case club. I remembered the pictures from a case involving dark magic of some sort related to a ritual, but… I couldn't remember anything else about it. Just the burned out husk of a person who had done this to themselves by being nosy with unnatural powers, or perhaps he was a victim of nefarious things.

"Have you heard anything about him over the last year or so?" I wondered again if I should be more aggressive about my questioning.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Paramilitary groups were not uncommon in the United States, people who were willing to fight MACUSA over their own radical politics. One group based in Michigan was fighting for the right to hunt werewolves, and perhaps actively hunting them outside of their territories within the national parks of the United States. Other groups whose objectives ran counter to the isolationist policies of MACUSA such as one group about fifty years ago who had run off to Europe to join the fight against Grindelwald and another who was offering aid to a small nation in South America whom Magical America companies were stripping for resources.

I did not think Albus Dumbledore, a man who had openly preached messages of tolerance throughout the world and denounced Dark Wizards as an antithesis of wizardkind, was someone who would would start a group focused on violence and government overthrow, but to do a job that the Ministry was so clearly ignoring, yes. After all, he had already fought Voldemort once in the last six months or so. Even the most powerful wizard in the world does not end up in a supposed Dark Lord's vicinity without insider knowledge or connections of some sort.

"What I'm trying to ask is… has my brother joined your people's fight against Voldemort?"

Albus Dumbledore smiled at me, it was a smile that was warm and paternal but there were layers of the man behind it that glimmered in his eyes. A seriousness that reminded me that I was speaking to one of the most powerful wizards alive, that power prickled under his skin in a way I would never understand. No one knew I was here. Fudge was smart enough to bring backup, I came here alone, no one knew I was here, begging for help from a man who was essentially persona non grata with the Ministry of Magic.

"What makes you believe I have people?"

My spine straightened, a calm fire of confidence fell upon me. Nurturing me forward through my foolish words.

"Why wouldn't you? You fought Grindelwald, this would not be your first war and merely defeating a single dark wizard would not ensure a fickle society's respect, you'd have to move like a politician and you were offered the Minister's position multiple times and refused every chance. People at least respect you and a sizable portion trust your judgment. Even powerful wizards do not move against or beneath the views of established government structures without allies behind them, because you would need allies or people you trust in the aftermath of a coup, an inner circle of your own to give you information because even you can't be everywhere at once."

There was no change in the old warlock's expression, but some part of me knew I may have said too much.

"What makes you think I am really here Miss Graves?" Then I heard something unexpected.

A chuckle. A very low noise that made me believe I imagined it for a moment.

"Please call me, Audrey."

"Then in that case, you may call me Albus, you were never a student here and it seems odd to continue the formality in this meeting that will have never happened."

"That would be fine."

He smiled at me and it seemed that the last of the political tension had melted away. He was right. When I left this office, this meeting would have never occurred. It would be a secret between two people who would likely never see each other again. For the rest of this time, we were something akin to equal, well, as close as the threads of destiny and politics would allow.

"Albus," I started again, "I must find Alex, I'm afraid he's been entangled with forces beyond him. Even if it's just a confirmation that he is alive then I will leave it be after I see him with my own eyes. Five years he's not seen or spoken to me, and I refuse to let him storming out the door be my last memory of him. I can trade you information in exchange, about the Ministry of Magic and I can provide you connections to the MACUSA embassy or even to the President of MACUSA himself."

He looked at me with interest and I knew I was too far to turn back, though some part of me felt he knew before this meeting ever took place.

"My father is the MACUSA president, I know every member of his administration and my grandfather is a retired Head Auror with connections. I am estranged from my family, but I'm certain that any letters I send will be read and the offers I make you do not have to be above board."

It felt gross, using my family's status and accomplishments this way, but I needed to put this on the table. If I wanted honesty. If I wanted help. I had to offer something of equal value to to the information I wanted.

And I loved my brother enough to make myself uncomfortable.

"Graves… That is a familiar name to me."

"My great-uncle was murdered by Grindelwald, that might be why."

Albus nodded slowly, "I'm familiar with the story. A terrible tragedy."

"Grandpa Atticus says the same."

He examined me thoughtfully, "What do you believe your brother has gotten involved in?"

"I'm afraid that…" The words burned like fire in my chest. I had to voice them. Cowardice was not a virtue. "My brother has a… habit of infiltrating radical antigovernment groups and reporting on them from the inside for whatever paper he's working for at the moment. I've been told he's done the same to your Death Eaters last year. He clearly believed you and Potter to some extent."

The intensity from Albus Dumbledore was not just from his face and countenance, but the very air around us crackled with it.

"It's why I don't think he's a Death Eater himself. Alex cares deeply for other people, he's righteous and desires a just world and he would never get that by joining Voldemort."

"Your brother is very brave and very foolish."

"I know."

"But he is lucky to have a sister like you."

"Thank you."

Next, I spoke of Thalia, the woman my brother was involved with, stating that I knew nothing about her except for a first name. That if I could find Thalia, I could find at the very least one of the final missing pieces to my brother. When I spoke of her, I realized my brother may have truly found his equal or his better in elusive natures.

"I know nothing about this Thalia woman, I know she cares for my brother, or I like to think she does. Alex can be hard to love at times."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, deep in thought. "I know some people who I can have look into this for you."

"I can write those letters tonight!"

"There is no need." He smiled warmly. "The pleasure of your company and the knowledge of your courageous quest is enough."

It couldn't be! I was not interesting enough to entertain the greatest wizard of the modern age. I was not a brave knight on a quest. I was just Audrey.

He seemed to read my expression, and his eyes softened. "We often do not see the the most exceptional aspects of who we are until others bring them to our attention. Love is a great gift, the most powerful magic in the world, it allows us to accomplish impossible feats, such as cross continents on faith alone. I believe the love you feel for your brother will help you find him and helping you do so is the least I can do after hearing your story."

A thought came to me, this man offered me help. He turned down my offer to write letters to my father on his behalf. I had to have something for whatever he was doing!

"Thank you, but I cannot leave you without an equal kindness in turn. My cousin is an Auror for the MACUSA Embassy and the head diplomat is a mentor of mine. Embassies have a little more freedom to dilute and distribute intelligence as needed and arrange meetings outside of the Minister's purview." I scribbled down the codes to have letters reach Elihu and Quincy at the Embassy Office and the fake name to use to inform the recipients that the codes and information to the Embassy were given to a trusted person and slid it across his desk. "Quincy is open to anything if it means he can do his job better as the Ministry is not being transparent about this situation and arresting people without trials. Elihu is fair minded and will hear you out if you ever believe this path to be a prudent one."

Albus took the paper and read it quickly before putting it in a drawer, seeming to accept my offer and willing to give it some thought.

"Thank you, I will consider this. Though, I think you should see the barman at the Hogs Head pub next week, I recommend you ask to try the wine from 1980, really a fantastic year." He gave me a wink before rising to his feet. I understood what he meant, the barman Aberforth was one of his associates. Albus Dumbledore had shown me real trust in giving me one of his connections should I ever have need of it. "Now, I'm afraid I have school related matters to attend too, but should you need anything all please do not hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you for all your help." I bobbed my head politely as he passed me the jar of floo power on the mantle. "I hope everything turns out the way you want it too."

The smile he gave me was a tired one. "We all have such hopes in times such as these."

Oo0Oo0

October 25, 1996

A week later, I did what I was bid by Dumbledore, finding myself at the Hogs Head pub sitting at the bar as Aberforth slide me an envelope with my name on it along with a dirty glass of wine from 1980 with a judgmental stare before returning to polishing a glass that seemed to not get clean despite the efforts of the elderly barman. I reached down to scratch around the horns of his goat with a wince as I irritated some of the bruises I had received from Lucinda's latest dueling lesson.

The envelope was a quality one, the paper was thick and the ink was smooth on the page where my name rested in an elegant script that I did not recognize. I knew this letter was not from Alex, but perhaps…

I took a deep breath as I slid my finger under the fold to open the envelope. The letter slid out with a noise I could hear in the silence of the sketchy bar. I took a sip of wine to steady my nerves. It really was delicious!

Miss Graves,

I wish to extend to you an invitation to my home at 11 a.m. next Saturday at Sundown Cottage for lunch.

We have much to discuss with regards to your brother.

-A Friend

I did not need the mockery of a final line to tell me this letter was from Thalia.

All of the answers I sought now rested in my shaking hands.

My search for Alex may finally be coming to an end, and with any luck, everything would be okay again.

It just had to be.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: Alright- We know Dumbledore gossiped at the next Order meeting about this weird American and her dangerous little House Elf. I'll put that aside for a side story maybe, but we must all be content to know it was a thing that happened.

I'm torn as to what House Audrey would go if she were a Hogwarts student instead of an Ilvermorny grad. I may or may not be thinking deeply about this Alternate Universe where Lucina gets a divorce to explore that. I'm open to opinions.