****If you have seen this added chapter but have not gone back and re-read the story, I would highly encourage you to go back and re-read before proceeding. I have uploaded a massive re-edit with a lot of added content. This chapter is a doozy.
****I realized I never made note of this on here, but there is really ambiguous information on whether or not there is a difference between the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law. Some sources say they are synonymous and that the author just called them different things at different times, others say that the Council is a lower court, and the Wizengamot is both the supreme court and the legislative body of the Ministry. I am inclined to believe the latter, as we see Harry in situations in two different kinds of courts in the books; one in the Pensive in GoF where he sees Crouch presiding over the Council of Magical Law, and the other in OotP when he is put on trial before the Wizengamot, which Fudge is presiding over. The Wizengamot is specified as having around fifty members who wear plum robes. This specification, as well the fact that we see two different judges, leads me to believe they are separate courts. It would make sense that during the first wizarding war, at least one lower court would be established specifically to handle cases pertaining to Death Eaters, or at least to offload some cases from the Wizengamot since they were also in charge of legislating.
From the playlist:
The Show Must Go On - Queen
Survivor - 2WEI
Gimme a Minute - PVRIS
Madness - Ruelle
Ghosts - Banners
Heal - Tom Odell
Chapter 61 - Venom
Emmeline made the trek up to Auror Headquarters in a haze.
When she came through the oak doors, there was a sort of unusual buzz about the cubicles. People were standing in little clumps, whispering nervously to one another, but they all stopped once they noticed her arrival. Emmeline's brow furrowed.
One of two things was happening: Either her boldness to come in late had caused a stir, or someone had noticed her taking the stupid files yesterday, and she was in a world of trouble. Either way, she froze. She couldn't very well sneak back into Records now.
Kingsley hurried toward her from the back of the cubicles. "Vance."
"What's going on?" she asked, her eyes surveying everyone.
"...You haven't seen it, have you?"
Her stomach churned. "I just got here. Seen what?"
Kingsley walked her back out into the hallway, down towards the Wizengamot Administrative Services. On the wall outside the offices hung a magical docket, a twin to the one on the tenth floor, displaying all the cases being heard in the courtrooms for the day.
She had to do a double-take at the lettering.
C10 - MINISTRY OF MAGIC v. MALFOY - 2pm
"Hang on, that can't be right. The trial's not supposed to be for another week and a half."
"They pushed it up," he informed her grimly.
She whipped around to gawk at him. "What!? When?"
"Just in the last twenty minutes. Crouch sent down a memo."
"They can't do that without giving us more advance notice!"
"That's what I thought, too. I've never heard of this happening."
"We've got to talk to Alastor," she decided, pivoting and striding back towards Headquarters at a clip.
Kingsley matched her pace. "I haven't been able to get his attention, he's trying to figure out where the change came down from-"
He was interrupted by Alastor's bellowing from inside the oak doors. "SHACKLEBOLT! VANCE! IF I DON'T SEE YOU BOTH IN HERE IN THE NEXT MINUTE, I'LL TURN YOU TO-"
"-Here-!"
"-We're here-!"
They'd dashed up behind him before they could learn of their likely creative but ultimately gruesome fates.
"My office," he growled, stalking in between them on his way back out to the corridor.
They followed mutely.
"This cannot possibly be allowed," Emmeline protested once she'd closed the door behind herself.
"It isn't," Alastor fumed. "The Wizengamot Charter of Rights states that no changes shall be made to a trial date without at least twenty-four hours notice."
"And the Charter definitively applies to the Council as well, right?" Kingsley asked.
Alastor began to pace around his desk. "Up until now, there has been a precedent that the Charter applies to all the inferior courts, as well as the Wizengamot." He seemed to hear himself and clenched his fists in frustration. "Merlin- I hate all this legal shite!"
"They may argue that since it's not explicitly stated, it could be considered a loophole."
"That would open up a can of Flobberworms from hell; the case would go to the Wizengamot and we'd be stuck in there litigating for weeks before they reached a verdict on Malfoy, if they even reached one at all."
"Maybe that's what Lucius wants," guessed Emmeline. "Maybe this is a stalling tactic."
"No," Alastor determined. "The longer Malfoy sits in a courtroom, the more attention it draws to him - attention he doesn't want. There's something else going on…"
The door to the office opened, and Amelia Bones poked her head in, panting. "Alastor, Crouch is back from Level One."
"CROUCH!" Alastor shouted, hobbling out of the office grumbling insults with Emmeline and Kingsley at his heels.
He caught him down the corridor. "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?"
Crouch looked exhausted, and not in the mood to argue. "The decision came from well above my head, Moody."
"Above your- YOU'RE the head of the Department, or have you forgotten?"
"Lucius Malfoy is to be present at a fundraising gala for St. Mungo's with Minister Bagnold on the ninth. She personally asked for the trial to be moved up so that it wouldn't interfere."
Emmeline's entire face suddenly became very hot.
"What?" Moody spat.
"Why in Merlin's name would the Minister invite him to an official event?" Kingsley questioned, horrified.
"She seems to think it will promote reconciliation."
"I wasn't aware we were in the business of reconciling with Death Eaters."
"Or accepting their filthy money!" Moody seethed.
"We both know that since the start of the war, the hospital has needed to increase capacity-"
"Why do you think that is, Barty? They kept torturing people and landing them in there!"
"I don't need a summary on the last ten years Alastor, I was there! Like I said, it's out of my-"
Emmeline shoved herself to the front and got right in Crouch's face, interrupting him. "Why is the Minister so certain he's going to be able to attend the gala after the trial?"
Crouch didn't say anything.
Emmeline turned back to Mad-Eye, her eyes wide with realization.
Lucius had already snaked his way into the minds and pockets of whoever he needed to to make sure he was not going to Azkaban. The surprise change of date would ensure that no press attended, and that the opposing counsel would be unprepared.
This whole thing was a set up.
"We'll just have to get it over with. I'll see you all at two," Crouch muttered, waving resignedly and piddling off to his office.
"What do we do?" Emmeline asked, hoping that Mad-Eye might have a solution.
But Alastor just stared after Crouch, looking like he was about to burst a blood vessel.
"Maybe we should bring up the Charter," she suggested. "At least that way, we can drag it out and buy ourselves more time."
"If the Minister's behind him overriding everything, filibustering over a loophole won't make any difference," Kingsley countered.
"Then what do we do?" she repeated, now with more desperation in her voice. "Alastor-!"
"I'm thinking," he snapped, resurfacing from his trance and taking each one of them by the shoulder. "...We stick to the plan, and proceed exactly as we would have if it were on schedule. This isn't a procedural blunder, it's a power move. Lucius is trying to play games. We can't let him know he's rattled us."
Kingsley shook his head. "I'm not ready, Moody. I don't have all my notes in order-"
"Bring whatever you have prepared. You'll testify first, then Vance will close. You have…" Mad-Eye glanced at his pocket watch. "Cripes…just over two hours."
"Helga help us," Kingsley exhaled.
…
The clock in the courtroom seemed to tick louder than ever before.
At five to two, the Council began trickling in and seating themselves. Crouch and a Court Scribe came in sometime after.
Mad-Eye had prepared her for how she should speak. Facts only, no feelings. The Council would hear facts, and nothing else.
She didn't have any notes to order like Kingsley. Her memories were vivid enough to keep straight. She just had to present them in the right way. She'd gone though that day in Knockturn Alley over and over in her head, and she would never forget the day they took her friend from her.
Malfoy had been behind it all.
Not a moment before two, the click of Lucius' snake-headed staff could be heard down the hall outside the chamber. He strolled into the courtroom like he owned the place, not bothering with the chair meant for the accused in the center of the floor. Nobody reprimanded him as he sat in the benches across the chamber from the Council members.
Emmeline could've lit him on fire with her stare. The bloodthirst roiled within her like it never had before.
He could play all the games he wanted, it wouldn't change her story. She wished she had more time to mentally prepare herself, but if it had to be today, she'd make do.
Just after him, the Minister of Magic strode in, taking her place in one of the upper benches. She observed them all from an aerial view.
Sod the gala. The Minister could not look her in the eye and let him off the hook once she heard what Emmeline had to say.
He would go to Azkaban. He had to.
A short time after, a man Emmeline did not recognize came in.
"Bollocks," she heard Alastor curse under his breath.
Nothing about this man's appearance jogged her memory. His pale skin contrasted his slicked-back dark hair, and his mustache was trimmed to precision. He looked to be a bit older than Lucius. It was not hard to guess that he was wealthy, seeing that he was wearing an expensive, velvet cloak and was associating with Malfoy. "Who is that?" she whispered, watching him get settled in the bench next to Lucius.
"Cain Selwyn. Not a Death Eater, but definitely a supporter, if only with his gold. He'd rather pull strings from the top than get his hands dirty."
"Why's he here?" asked Kingsley.
"He may be representing Lucius."
Emmeline looked back at the man, puzzled. "Is that bad?"
"I don't know, but it's not good."
Seemingly out of nowhere, a strange sensation filled Emmeline's head, like something had just skittered along the outer edge of her mind. She blinked rapidly, wondering if she'd imagined it.
The sensation subsided as soon as it had come on. She brushed it off.
"All rise for the presiding judge, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law!"
Mad-Eye was right. No press. No spectators. Just Crouch with his Scribe, the prosecution, the defense, and the Council. Just like Lucius wanted.
They closed the doors.
…
Opening statements were read.
Kingsley testified, and Emmeline thought he'd conducted himself so well, you would have never known the trial date was tampered with.
Now, it was her turn.
"The Council calls the second witness forward to testify."
Alastor gave her a reassuring nod as she passed him on her way to the floor. He trusted her.
When she arrived at her spot before the Council, her eyes moved to Lucius. She was going to burn him like he burned her.
"State your full name for the Council," said Crouch.
"Emmeline Vance, witness for the prosecution."
"What is your role in the Ministry, Miss Vance?"
"I'm an Auror in training, but my testimony pertains to my time before I entered the program."
"Very well, you may proceed."
"This is for you, Marlene," she thought.
It was for them all.
Caradoc.
Benjy.
The Prewetts.
Dorcas.
Edgar and his family.
Peter.
James and Lily.
The Longbottoms.
Her father.
Emmeline planted her feet firmly on the floor. "Last summer, I was a part of an operation which sought to prove Lucius Malfoy's affiliation as one of Voldemort's Death Eaters," she began, speaking with the authority of someone far older than twenty-one. Many people in the courtroom cringed at the Dark Lord's name.
"Can you recall the details of your operation?"
"The events I'll be referencing took place on, and just after July seventeenth of last year. I was tasked with following Mr. Malfoy to wherever his meeting was to be held."
"Were you working alone?"
"No," Emmeline reported with anguished pride. "I was accompanied by Marlene McKinnon." She turned to the Council. "You may remember reading about the McKinnon family's murders."
"I am reluctant to rise, but I do wonder how that might be relevant," Selwyn's plummy voice called out. He hadn't even looked up from his fingernails.
"It is relevant," Emmeline insisted to Crouch. She caught sight of Alastor up on the bench holding out his hand, reminding her to remain measured.
Crouch nodded. "Very well, proceed."
Emmeline took a deep breath. "Mr. Malfoy came through the Leaky Cauldron at about eight o'clock, just before sunset. Marlene and I followed him down into Knockturn Alley."
"What was Mr. Malfoy's intended destination?"
"Borgin and Burke's."
"Anything out of the ordinary about his stop at the antique shop?"
"As a matter of fact, there was. I witnessed him revealing a dark mark tattoo as a means of entrance to a meeting." Emmeline chewed on the words, savoring them.
The Council members began whispering among themselves.
Selwyn stood up, addressing the Council. "Mr. Malfoy was found not to have any sort of tattoo on his arm as of last August, so either the witness is confused, or lying-"
"I'm not lying-"
"It's not your turn to speak, Selwyn," Moody grumbled.
"Was it not you who checked his arm, Mr. Moody?"
"I will remind the Council that transfiguration magic can easily conceal a tattoo-"
"Order," Crouch tutted. "Let the record show that the witness may have seen a tattoo, but no such tattoo was found following the incident. Please proceed, Ms. Vance."
Another deep breath. "After I saw his arm, I was discovered, and we were pursued through Knockturn by seven Death Eaters. We had to escape before we were able to gather any more intel."
"Anything else?"
"Yes," said Emmeline, arriving at the final nail she would hammer into Lucius' coffin. "Three days later, a squadron of Death Eaters led by Donovan Mulciber came to my residence to make an attempt on my life. A second squadron led by Cyrus Travers was sent to assassinate the McKinnons. While I was hiding, I overheard one of the Death Eaters implicate Lucius Malfoy as the catalyst for the attack. He sent Mulciber to kill me, and Travers to kill Marlene and her family."
The whispering grew louder. Emmeline knew for a fact that several of the members who sat on the Council had known Clyde McKinnon.
"I'm going to make you regret you didn't kill me too," she thought, glaring at Lucius again.
"Thank you, Ms. Vance. You may return to your seat."
Emmeline turned from Lucius, nodded, then scaled the benches back to Alastor and Kingsley.
She did it. Now the Council just had to make the right choice.
"You did good, Vance," Alastor whispered, patting her on the knee.
"The Council calls the third witness forward to testify."
Now, it was Selwyn's turn.
He glided down to the floor from his seat, smiling confidently. Too confidently, Emmeline thought.
"State your full name."
"Representative and Character Witness for the defense, Cain Selwyn."
"Proceed, Mr. Selwyn."
Selwyn directed his spiel not to Crouch, but to the members of the Council. "Lucius Malfoy is not the monster he has been painted to be."
"Merlin, here we go," breathed Kingsley.
"I should not have to remind this Council that Mr. Malfoy may go down in our history as one of the most generous philanthropists of our time, having recently donated a large portion of his personal resources to St. Mungo's Hospital."
Emmeline drummed her fingers as he spoke. None of this could subvert the facts she'd just given.
"Now, we have all heard Mr. Malfoy being accused of acting as perpetrator during the recent conflict. I am here today to tell you that he was not, in fact, a perpetrator; but like many among us, a victim."
"Victim my arse," Moody said under his breath.
"Mr. Malfoy simply fell victim to the disastrous manipulation of the Imperius Curse, as stated by the Death Eater Donovan Mulciber, who named Mr. Malfoy in his confession during his court proceedings before this body."
Moody rose. "Mulciber named everyone and their mother in his confession, including Death Eaters later found guilty and sentenced to Azkaban."
Selwyn cocked an eyebrow. "But, as we can see, Lucius Malfoy remains a victim to this day - of a campaign of character assassination, led by people who were, unfortunately, very personally hurt by the conflict. Their intentions may be good, but their attempts to smear his name are misplaced." He turned from the Council, his gaze settling directly on Emmeline. "With your permission Mr. Crouch, I'd like to cross-examine the second witness."
Her stomach dropped. "Is he allowed to do that?"
Crouch looked at Alastor, who was shaking his head vigorously. Then he looked up at Minister Bagnold.
"Very well. The Council calls Ms. Vance back to the floor."
Emmeline stood reluctantly, turning to Mad-Eye for guidance.
"Whatever you do, stay calm and don't let him get in your head," he hissed. "Don't give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. That's what he wants."
She nodded. She could tame the bloodthirst long enough to do that.
As she reached the floor, Selwyn motioned for Emmeline to sit in the chair for the accused, the one Lucius had yet to touch. She didn't know what else to do. Lowering herself into it, she wondered if its chains would bind her.
But it was not the chains that encroached on her personal space; as soon as she sat down, something that felt a bit like a large needle poked at the forefront of her mind. She sucked in a sharp breath, caught off guard by the intrusion. What was that?
Noticing her change in demeanor, Alastor seemed to sit up taller in his seat.
"Ms. Vance, did you know Mr. Malfoy during your time at Hogwarts?" Selwyn asked, casually pacing in front of her with his hands behind his back.
"No, we…" Emmeline cleared her throat. "...we only overlapped one year." She wasn't able to focus on much else outside of the unwelcome presence at the front of her mind. So far, it hadn't rummaged through anything, it was only letting her know it was there. Her eyes darted around the courtroom, searching for who was doing this to her.
Her focus landed on Lucius.
"So you are relatively unfamiliar with him, outside of the alleged events you described?"
She shifted in her seat, trying to expel the needle but unsure how. It was affecting her ability to come up with coherent answers to Selwyn's questions. "I suppose…" She could recall experiencing something like this before, but couldn't place it.
"Ms. Vance, this operation you mentioned - under who's authority were you acting, if not the Ministry's?"
Before she could argue the question, the needle pierced into her mind, extracting Albus Dumbledore's image without her recalling it, then retracted.
Emmeline's entire body tensed at the intrusion. She swiveled back to Selwyn and glared at him wide-eyed.
Alastor stood up again. "I thought it was made very clear to the defense that questions of that nature were not to be asked of the witness. That information remains classified."
"Yes, you're right. Strike Mr. Selwyn's last question from the record."
"I understand completely, Mr. Crouch."
"Proceed."
This wasn't coming from Lucius. During the intrusion, she'd gotten a better sense of its origin.
"Whatever you do, stay calm and don't let him get in your head." Alastor had told her.
She didn't know she would have to take his instruction so literally.
When Selwyn met her gaze, grinning, the needle was poised to strike again. Regaining her nerve, she attempted to put up some sort of mental wall, but had never been trained in that sort of magic. Was this allowed? Should she tell Crouch?
No.
She couldn't.
If she began shouting about what he was doing to her, the Council would write her off as a loon. If she wanted the trial to proceed, she had to sit there and endure it.
"What was the nature of your relationship to Ms. McKinnon?"
Even as she was reeling from his first trespassing, her lip curled up at him.
But her menacing stare did nothing to stop the needle from puncturing her flimsy wall and sifting through her memory once more. Meeting Marlene in class first year. Studying for O.W.L.s. Training together. Singing Celestina Warbeck at the top of their lungs. Scrambled eggs. The doting auntie club.
Whatever he was doing to her, it hurt, like a hyper-concentrated migraine. Emmeline gripped the arms of the chair, grunting.
Kingsley muttered something to Alastor.
"...Do you need me to repeat the question?" Selwyn offered, entirely relaxed.
"Marlene…like I said, we worked together," she answered him, her voice labored.
"But she was also your friend, was she not?"
"That's a leading question," Alastor snapped.
"Indeed it is, please move along Mr. Selwyn."
"I am sorry for your loss." Selwyn directed his fake sympathy to the Council and gave her a moment of reprieve.
The minute he turned back the needle went deeper, bypassing barriers in her mind she thought she'd fortified, even to herself. The pastries on the ground. The fire. Smoke. Ash. Burnt flesh.
But it didn't stop there; the needle began injecting images into her mind that were not from her own memory.
She saw Travers beating Marlene.
She saw the green light of a Killing Curse fly towards her.
Emmeline gasped, squirming in her seat, digging her nails into the wood of the chair's arms and squeezing her eyes shut. She tried to push him out, but was powerless to stop the attack.
"Were you there the day she died?"
She saw them start the fire.
She saw the McKinnons lying dead on the floor.
"Get out of my head," she gurgled.
"I do beg your pardon Ms Vance, you'll have to speak a bit louder-"
"Yes, I was there," she barked, prying her eyes back open and refusing to give in to him. It was no use. The needle remained. Just get through the questioning. He couldn't keep this up forever.
"Ms. McKinnon was not the only friend you lost to the conflict last year, was she?"
"How could that possibly be relevant?!"
"It will bring me to a point Mr. Moody, I assure you."
"Proceed, Mr. Selwyn."
"Thank you, Mr. Crouch."
Once more Emmeline swiveled to Lucius, who sat smirking at her with revolting satisfaction. He'd never gotten the chance to punish her for her insolence that day in Knockturn. She'd hidden herself away. Now, he was finally exacting his revenge.
This wasn't his trial.
It was her execution.
"Please answer the question, Ms. Vance."
She couldn't let him win, but she didn't know how to stop Selwyn.
"No," she wheezed, looking up at Alastor pleadingly. "She wasn't."
The next time the needle came for her, it moved much slower, like it had to go through a bowl of thick, gelatinous porridge before it reached her. Selwyn squinted and twisted around to Alastor, who was focusing very hard on her forehead.
"Can you elaborate on that?"
"I-"
The needle wound back up and stabbed harder than it had before, loosing the bonds of Alastor's projected protections and hitting Emmeline with its full force. It split apart and pierced every raw, terrible corner of her mind simultaneously so that her worst memories all came rushing back at once: The moment Alastor told her about James and Lily. The Potters' cottage, destroyed. Their caskets going into the ground. Peter's miniscule burial plot. Sirius's face. Alice and Frank's deadened eyes.
Emmeline's heart was thumping so hard and so rapidly, the blood pressure seemed like it would burst her head open if this went on for much longer. The needle pressed even further, seeking out her most vulnerable moment.
Blood.
Blood on the bed sheets.
Twinges in her belly.
Choking on tears.
She could not stop herself from crying. Her mask was beginning to crumble.
Still, the needle went deeper. Selwyn would not relent until he shattered her like he'd been instructed to.
Bidding farewell to her father on platform nine and three-quarters. McGonagall coming to fetch her from class. Her first brush with loss. Leaving school for the funeral. Her mother's endless guilt. So many tears.
Her whole body began to shake.
"Ms. Vance? Are you feeling alright?"
"For God's sake, make it stop," she grizzled, her voice thick and childlike.
"CROUCH! Put an end to this at once!"
Then, the needle stumbled upon a layer of something that wouldn't give way. Inquisitively, it tapped the mental barricade.
Just one name tumbled out.
Remus.
No.
No no no no no-
By this point, Emmeline was crying so hard, it felt like her throat was closing. Alastor was too entrenched in his shouting match with Crouch, and Selwyn's curiosity had peaked. He wanted to know what secrets lay behind the only door that seemed locked to him.
At the earliest sign of invasion, her subconscious had constructed a barrier around every mention or memory of Remus. Even deep in her mind, she protected him with her life. Selwyn would have to obliterate her consciousness before she gave him access to Remus's secret.
She lurched forward in the chair, physically trying to push Selwyn out of her brain. Get out get out get out get out-
But the needle drove itself into the door, trying to break through it like it had everything else. It wound back and tried again. Then again. Over, and over, and over.
The force of his mind trying to crush hers beneath it pushed her back up against the chair. Everything around her vision began to darken. She was going to pass out. He was going to wipe out her consciousness altogether. She was going to end up in St. Mungo's next to Frank and Alice, and Lucius was going to pay the hospital for it.
Finally, Emmeline lifted her chin and loosed a guttural scream as she threw every ounce of her strength into expelling Selwyn from her head.
The Council murmured and gasped, disturbed by her outburst. Even Crouch looked unnerved.
Emmeline hunched over, sobbing, and unable to catch her breath. The needle was finally gone. Left in its place were tremors all over her body, heart palpitations, and nausea that came on so suddenly and so severely that she nearly gagged.
It didn't matter that he hadn't been able to access that last layer of her memory, delicious as it would have been to see her writhe. Selwyn had already accomplished everything he needed to.
"Mr. Crouch, I move to disqualify this witness."
"You piece of shite!" Alastor raged.
Kingsley rushed down the benches toward her.
Crouch was smashing his gavel. "I will have order!"
"He's a Legilimens!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"He sent her into a fit!"
"Ms. Vance is clearly too affected by her tragic experiences for her testimony to be considered reliable-"
"She gave reliable testimony before you barged into the darkest parts of her mind! None of this can be borne! A new trial must be arranged!"
"Sit down Alastor!"
"I'll make you squirm for this, make no mistake-"
"Moody, one more word and I will remove you from this courtroom permanently!"
The memories Selwyn had disturbed still floated on the surface of Emmeline's mind like decaying leaves on a pond. She was back in the fire, and she was back on sobbing on the floor of her kitchen.
"Vance," Kingsley called to her, grabbing one of her shaking hands. She squeezed it weakly, desperate for a life ring out of her terror. "Emmeline, you have to sit back up-"
"It's evident that we've all had enough for the day. I suggest we conclude these proceedings and put this all behind us-"
"Malfoy still needs to be questioned!"
"I mean it, Alastor! Hold your tongue!"
Emmeline began heaving. She could feel the bloody sheets, and she could feel the wood grain of her desk in Defense seventh year. It was as if he had torn her apart and left the pieces of her trapped in the worst moments of her life.
Crouch looked to Alastor, who appeared ready to strangle him. Then he looked up at Minister Bagnold.
"I ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe that Mr. Malfoy should serve an Azkaban sentence."
"Don't do this, Barty!"
Emmeline sucked her sobs in, grabbing onto Kingsley's arm and craning her neck to look at the benches.
Not a single member of the Council raised their hands.
Lucius stood and left the courtroom, having never said a word.
…
"C-collop-port-tus."
She locked herself in Alastor's office, still heaving.
She wouldn't be alone in the lavatory.
Her cubicle was too exposed.
She needed to stow away somewhere small and dark and quiet.
"James and Lily have been murdered by Voldemort." Being forbidden from seeing Harry. Never getting to say goodbye.
As if she were half her age, she shakily lowered herself to the ground and crawled underneath Alastor's desk. It was no use, she still couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't regain her sense of what was real.
The smoldering house. Marlene's pearl necklace. Never getting to say goodbye.
She'd left Kingsley and Alastor downstairs. They wanted to drag her to a healer, but the thought of more poking and prodding made her panic surge, so she disapparated. She wasn't really sure why she'd picked here, she just wanted to be alone.
The blood. The sheets. Never getting to say goodbye.
Remus liked to joke that she had a knack for legilimency, but she knew now that it was only intuition. Real legilimency was violent beyond belief. She'd never felt so desecrated.
"There's been a terrible accident." The other student's faces when she returned to school. Never getting to say goodbye.
"Stop, stop, stop, stop," she whined, rocking back and forth. It was all happening to her all over again, all at once.
"Vance," came a muffled voice behind the door. Someone rattled the handle, but she didn't hear. She wasn't really there in the office.
Now she remembered; it felt a little like when Voldemort spoke in her head at the port. That had brought her to her knees, and yet it had been a mere glimpse of the torment she knew now.
"Alohomora."
She hardly noticed when Alastor and Kingsley charged into the office.
"Wait outside," Alastor directed. Kingsley looked conflicted but obeyed, shutting the door behind himself.
Alastor heard her sniveling under the desk and rushed around to meet her on the ground.
She could sense that he was there, but he felt so far away. "What's," gasp. "happening," gasp. "to," gasp. "me?"
"You're having an episode. Selwyn did it to ye on purpose," he let her know calmly.
"I failed," gasp. "I let him," gasp. "get in my head-"
"If I had known what he had up his sleeve, I never would have brought you into that courtroom today."
"I failed them all," gasp. "I wasn't good enough," gasp. "It's all my fault-"
"No, lass. The entire damn Ministry failed them."
"I can't-" gasp. "I can't breathe-"
He took hold of her shaking hands. "Look at me, Vance."
She couldn't. He had come to tell her that her friends were dead.
"Look at me."
Slowly, her eyes were able to locate his amid the whirlpool of her torment.
"I'm going to breathe with you. Focus only on your breath. We'll do it together."
Emmeline nodded.
"In through your nose."
He inhaled. Emmeline tried to follow him with her spasming breaths.
"Out through your mouth," he exhaled.
She huffed whatever oxygen she had out.
"Again. In."
The breath stuttered less on its way in.
"Out."
It left with more ease.
"Again."
He sat breathing with her until the memories sank back into their depths.
Emmeline looked around her, making sure she was actually there in the office. She took her hands from Alastor, pressing them into the floor at her sides.
"I'm gonnae take you to St. Mungo's, then we'll get you home to rest for a few days. I'll take care of Selwyn."
He tried to help her up, but she resisted.
She closed her eyes to collect her splintered thoughts. "It's as if the war didn't make any difference. It's as if they all died for nothing," she whispered.
Alastor sighed. "I know it must feel that way when the memories are so fresh."
"Lucius is free…I told them what he did, and he still-…" She took a deep breath through her nose like Alastor taught her. "I don't know if I can do it anymore. I fight and fight, but it feels hopeless. It never ends. It never brings them back."
It felt as though the bloodthirst had seeped out of her like wine through a press. She couldn't find her reason anymore.
"Emmeline, it's never going to bring them back…"
She blinked, releasing a tear.
Feeling for her, and deeming it safe to allow himself to, Alastor leaned forward and took her swollen face in his hands. "Not in a way you can see or touch, but they're all still here. They're here right now." He looked around them, took a shuddering breath, then smiled. "I can see Meadows shaking her head at me from the corner, disappointed that I've not come up with something more cheerful to say."
Emmeline twisted to where he was looking, but there was nothing. She sniffled. "Really?"
His gaze shifted, and he looked over his shoulder. "And Potter's just behind me to my right. Just cracked a joke about how you can take the captain from his Quidditch team, but he'll never stop checking on his players."
A cry bubbled up out of her; but this time, it felt good.
"Mckinnon's to my left, down on the ground. She was breathing with us. She's so glad you're still around since she can't be."
For a moment, Emmeline thought she could feel her, too.
"And Lily is right next to you. She's got her hand on you. Said she won't let go." He took one of his hands from her face and laid it on her shoulder. She clasped it like it was Lily's.
"How do they look?" she asked through her tears.
"Grand."
Emmeline bowed her head, and now that she could breathe, the tears streamed effortlessly.
She'd jumped so quickly from wartime into training, without ever giving herself the chance to finish mourning for them.
"They're still fighting alongside you," Alastor continued. "You have to be their voice since they can't speak anymore. It isn't fair that the task should go to you so young, but it's your burden now."
She nodded.
She could be their voice.
She could do it.
Swallowing away the sentiment, Alastor nodded once and helped her off the ground. This time, she didn't oppose him.
Remus. She wanted Remus.
"Can I go home?" she requested.
"You need to be looked at."
"I'll see the healer; but first I need to go home. Please…"
Alastor studied her, wary of letting the damage to her mind persist longer than a day. "...You're to go to the healer's first thing in the morning, then you're to take the rest of the week off. Do you understand?"
"Yes, thank you."
"I don't want to see your face 'round here till Monday at least. I mean it," he grumbled, pointing a finger at her and reverting to his usual demeanor.
Emmeline smiled a little, lowered his hand, and hugged him. "Thank you," she said again.
She felt him squeeze her back.
…
It was nearly dusk when she apparated back to the entryway of the flat.
"I'm home," she called, her voice strained. She let her bag drop from her grasp and kicked off her shoes, then shed her cloak. She wanted nothing more than to wash Selwyn off herself with a long, hot shower, and to lay in Remus's arms until she fell asleep. Now that she had time off, they could go to Ipswich tomorrow after the healers.
The flat was quiet.
She gathered her hair into a bun on the top of her head as she walked. "Remus?"
The kitchen looked undisturbed. Perhaps he was napping.
"Rem-..."
She came to an abrupt halt when she got a look at the bedroom.
His chests were gone.
His bookshelf was cleared out.
His half of the closet had been emptied.