November 29, 1997

The Creevey brothers were unusually quiet today. I expected a level of spontaneous chatter from them between lessons, but they had been unusually focused throughout my Charms lesson.

Odd.

Very odd.

I was not used to seeing close sibling relationships like what those boys have, I spent a few minutes of every lesson getting them to focus and stop messing around, but I was not generally annoyed by it. It was kind of cute to see how close the pair are. More like twins than a pair of siblings? Best friends? I was not sure if that was a really apt comparison, but it seemed to get the point across.

As my lesson ended, I saw Dennis glance up at me with his big, brown eyes, seemingly double checking where I was before stepping on Colin's foot under the table to get his attention.

Hm...

"That's enough for today everyone," I said briskly to the ten students all sitting in our designated charms classroom on the third floor of the manor house. "If you will please read and review the chapters covered in the lessons today, we can do something with more activity in our next lesson."

"Ya gonna teach us duellin'?" one of the new boys asked. Benjamin Whitehall had arrived a few days ago with his older sister, an eighteen-year-old girl named Winifred who had been guarding Benjamin and couple of girls they had found on the way, Niamh O'Connell and Saira Rasheed. The four of them were the group I had helped Oliver rescue from the hamlet. Winnifred had volunteered to teach a couple of lessons to take some of the pressure off the rest of us and give her a reason to stay close to her brother, it seemed a fine arrangement once she was rested and did a few days as a student so we could teach her some more advanced defensive craft.

I had to admit that it was nice to see the results of my labors, despite the personal emotional turmoil it had put me in. I did not know how far down the rabbit hole Alex was, but I hoped it wasn't deep enough to hurt a child, even if he generally disliked them. His compassion for Todd had given me some hope in that regard, but our duel had left me weary of the extent of Alex's ability to give a damn.

"Maybe," the corner of my mouth turned up. "Only if you behave and pass the quiz I give you."

There were groans of disappointment and distress from the group – except for Roshni Gupta who sat up straighter in her seat and folded her hands primly in front of her with a serious sort of smile. She had been in Ravenclaw apparently – that was, per the students, where the academics and the weirdos went to roost like a... oh, what was the name? Luna Lovegood? Odd name.

"You're teaching the others!" Benjamin protested with all the indignity a thirteen-year-old could muster.

"They're fifth year and up. I'm sure your sister, and Colin, told you that much."

Colin sat up straight at the mention of his name. He had joined the class today for some review on some spells he was struggling with and would be joining the duelling defence class after a brief break. He was a good student, just more interested in photography and spells that would help him improve that. The essentials focused education we needed to focus on here in Thornell was not playing to Colin's strong suits, but he was improving quickly more out of necessity and a desire to take part in... I wasn't sure what, but there was a firm resolve to him that should have concerned me if the situation was not so dire. He was fully capable of holding his own if needed.

Saira fidgeted slightly, adjusting the edge of her black hijab that may have either been a little too tight or too loose. "Miss Audrey?"

"Yes?"

Saira paused, seemly picking her next words carefully. "Do you know anything about what's going on at Hogwarts?"

The room seemed to grow quieter for a moment, the Creevey brothers perked upward as if someone had dangled a ham bone in front of a crupp, the rest of the room seemed both resigned to bad news, but curious about what I would have to say on the subject.

"I... In all honesty, I don't know. I've heard rumors at the Ministry, but nothing I can really confirm personally." I paused for a moment, wondering how honest I was going to be on the matter. "I don't want to worry you all with things I'm not even sure are true."

I had heard so little in the last few weeks about what had been happening at Hogwarts under the stewardship of one Severus Snape. Rumors of torture, whispered by concerned parents who still had parents in Hogwarts as mandated by the Ministry. Conversations would end quickly if I came into the room, I had no children and was in a precarious position of knowing too much to be trusted. These stories had been confirmed by the Waldropes, to a point, there was no real confirmation on anything I could say that I had heard directly. Stories of torture were surely just rumors and exaggeration. The government put too much value on blood status to practice torture on children, right?

But some part of me knew better.

There were a lot of things one could do to a person before killing them and the threat could be more than enough in most cases.

The memories of the crucio curse shooting through my body spoke to that, but I was not going to imprint that possibility without confirmation.

Saira shifted in her seat, pulling something out of her pocket and putting it on the table. "Is this true then?"

I moved closer to the table to examine the mysterious pamphlet, which surprisingly was not getting a reaction out of the other students in the room. My understanding of schoolroom politics led me to assume that whatever this was had already been passed around bedrooms and whispered about on walks around Thornell's grounds.

I skimmed the contents quickly, keeping my face impassive as I did so.

'There are reports from current students of Hogwarts school and their families about reports of torture and dark curses being taught to children and used upon them as punishments. A practice currently endorsed and encouraged by the Ministry of Magic through the turning of blind eyes and the placing of known, prosecuted and convicted Death Eaters to positions of power in both the government and the school itself.'

Oh, sweet baby Merlin in the cradle!

Someone was going to be murdered in their bed for this!

This was the kind of sacrilege and anti-government talk that could get the publisher killed or locked up – and I was not sure what would be the preferred option for them.

"I... I certainly hope it isn't." The words that came from me sounded like something Percy would say and perhaps we were spending a little too much time together if such a thing was even possible. I read the pamphlet again, letting the words wash over me. Tales of the torture of students at Hogwarts for dissent against Ministry of Magic, disobedience and other acts of rebellion against the state.

'Those who remain skeptical of this fledgling government and its policies are many, but those who speak out disappear as suddenly as they appear. One appearing mutilated beyond recognition on her family's doorstep. Another young man disappearing from Hogwarts school to control his outspoken father, Bobby Tupper is still missing and one can only wonder at the state he'll be found in.'

I couldn't read any further in front of the children.

I was sure I knew who had published this.

"I think they're preparing lunch downstairs. If you all go down now, you could be first in line."

The younger children quickly left at my unconventional dismissal and left the room, but the older students, Winifred, Colin and his brother Dennis lingered behind and I braced myself for the confrontation.

"It's true," Colin said, clearly taking the lead before someone else could. "Snape's mean enough to let students be tortured; he's been waiting for it for years!"

"None of us know what the facts are because we're not there. You're here. You are safe and we are going to do everything we can to keep you that way." I raised a finger to silence Winifred who had opened her mouth to begin protesting. "I know this is hard, but I need you to focus on what you can do here. You will not panic the younger children with rumors. That is not helpful!" I was taller than the three teenagers trying to confront me, Winifred was the closest to me in height and age - why did I feel so much older than twenty?

"But-"

"No, none of that." I noticed Colin shoving his hand in his pocket to fiddle with something. "None of that either, Creevey." I held out my hand, hoping it would not be a fake rat like the one Oscar Vernon had put in my hands my first day as a Resident Student Aid for the Horned Serpent House.

Colin put a galleon in my hand. I wondered why he had it for a moment before he said, "It's lucky."

I couldn't blame him for the thought process. At least he wasn't putting his faith in lucky underpants. I gave him back the galleon with a resigned sigh.

"Look, I need you all to help us and that means keeping some things quiet, not spreading baseless rumors." I did feel these accusations from the pamphlet were quite accurate, but I needed to control the fear and weariness here. "In turn, I will tell you anything of interest I hear that is going on at the school. Alright?"

The three nodded in agreement, seemingly seeing my point for the moment or willing to play along for now.

That was really all I needed right now.

Oo0Oo0

Valencia's home was a quiet place. An apartment building with a nice garden out front in the far edges of London that had a country view in a quiet wizarding district, hidden from the nonmagical. I had not visited in some time; we had met for coffee socially a couple of times after we met before the chaos of the world around us had put a dampener on our developing friendship. Safety and privacy both became driving factors for us in a way they were not before. The need had been there, but not the active threat of imprisonment and murder which had necessitated our friendship to become one of penfriends and political allies.

The way my fist beat against her door was less than friendly.

"Who is it?"

"Audrey Graves. Who are you?"

"Valencia Talbott. What's my favorite biscuit?"

"The American one we serve with fried chicken." That was a trick question. "What's the name of the lake I went to as a child?"

"Trick question, you went to Skeneateles and Gichi-gami depending on the schedule."

My family went to Gichi-gami, more commonly known as Lake Superior, twice, they were nice trips, but the lake was too big to be a respectable lake instead of something that barely hide that it was more of filled abyss. My mother thought it unnatural and spooky. I was inclined to agree.

My father preferred to stay in New York and had a love for the lakes of the Catskill Mountains.

The door opened and I was greeted by Valencia adorned in a comfortable looking sweater and baggy pants. I also noted her warm socks with the little embroidered cats running around. Her short hair was long enough to push back behind her ears where a No Maj pen was resting, precariously held in place by the rims of her glasses.

"Hi, Audrey, good to see you!" Valencia stepped aside and motioned me through the door, my stomach twisting as I gripped the pamphlet in my pocket. The door closed behind me and Valencia commenced with the niceties as I looked around the room, while making the proper communal sounds and removing my shoes.

The flat was nice. It was messy in a lived-in way; the living room was covered in papers and half-written reports and drafted structures for her newspaper adorned the walls and coffee table. Valencia was several issues ahead in her publication schedule apparently.

Under the mess, it was a modest flat, all warm colors and a fascinating collection of teacups on display in a glass display case that was scuffed and clearly second-hand, much like the cups inside of it. Also an unsettling number of highland cow figurines over her fireplace in various forms of display but all staring outward into the what I knew was going to be a very awkward, aggressive discussion.

"This is a surprise." Valencia led me into her tiny kitchen and stood next to her small, oak dining table. "What brings you out to my bit of London?"

I pulled the pamphlet out of my pocket and slammed it next to the butter dish. "This!"

Valencia peered down at the pamphlet over the rims of her glasses. "Hm? Oh, that old thing? I don't see why you would come all the way out here for that."

"To talk some sense into you!"

Valencia raised an eyebrow, "On what grounds are you accusing me of being the publisher?"

I rolled my eyes and pointed to the spelling of the word 'skeptical' on the second page.

"It's S-C-E-P-T-I-C-A-L, here. They don't use the K."

Valencia's mouth tightened for a moment. "Huh. No one has ever complained before."

Working with Percy when I first got to London had finally paid off in more than just my personal entertainment. He made me rewrite several different papers because he's a little bit unhinged.

"I should hire you to proofread for me."

"This is serious! Please don't make jokes."

Valencia shrugged and motioned for me to follow her back, deeper into the flat, down a short hallway to a shelf at the end of the hall where she removed a tan suitcase and put it on the floor. It was scuffed and had seen better days; I could see fresh ink-stained fingerprints on the handle.

"I usually keep this hidden, but I've been in and out today." Valencia opened the suitcase and a sudden whirring and clicking noise emerged from it. She stepped inside as if going down a ladder before calling me to follow her down.

I heaved a sigh, wondering how I ended up affiliating myself with clear lunatics on a regular basis before stepping into the suitcase, the mechanical whirrs enveloping my hearing for a time before it stopped. I stepped off the ladder to find a small, industrial room covered in papers, ink of many colors and a fully functional printing press that took up most of the room.

"History is not a monolith written solely by the winning government, they just have access to the biggest press and publishing dockets." Valencia walked over to the printing press to adjust something on her machine. "The real stories come from the people living in that moment of history."

"That's not even what I came to talk to you about!" Merlin, she was stubborn like my broth... Alex. She was stubborn like Alex. "You know what danger this puts you in!"

Valencia tilted her head upwards, a proud sort of gesture, and gave a slight little contented smile. "I'm aware."

"They'll kill you!"

"Then I die for truth."

My hands flew into my hair, grabbing it in frustration as I tried to hide it by moving some strands from my face. Why was everyone in my life insane?

"MACUSA will retaliate if any of our citizens are killed here! Turning this war from an internal matter to an international one hangs by a thread and you're threatening it with a severing charm!"

Valencia shrugged, "I have no value to MACUSA. The worst the Ministry will do to me is send me back to the states."

"No!" The truth of the matter coming to me like a jolt of lightening. "They'll send you to Azkaban. They'll leave you alive as a bargaining chip, much like I am now in the Ministry, to keep MACUSA in a state of negotiation and hopefully off the ground and put an end to their sanctions on their remaining trade partners. That is the worst they will do you, Val. You know perfectly well what lives in Azkaban."

Valencia was quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking over my words.

"What about Elihu?"

Valencia's face took a vibrant hue and I knew I had found something to put pressure on.

"Tell me that Elihu would not fight like hell to keep you safe. He's done it before, what makes you think he would do any less, if not more, now? Are you willing to throw your whole life away for a cause when you have so much more waiting for you at the end of this conflict! That man is in love with you! It's all over his face when he looks at you and if you can't see what it would do to him than you're a fool who doesn't deserve him!"

She was quiet.

I was breathing hard as if I had run some distance or climbed the highest tower of Ilvermorny for one of my dreaded Astronomy lessons.

"What are you doing?" Valencia asked me, her voice quiet but seeming to take control of the room. "Are you just a passive bystander in this or are you actively doing something with the influence you have?"

"I'm sorry?"

Valencia looked at me, peering over the rims of her glasses with a wry, but severe, expression. "You're sitting at the very heart of what has gone wrong with this country and you are telling me you have not been paying attention? I know you, you're too observant to not have noticed any of this."

"The only reason I'm in the position I'm in is because of my father. It is nothing I have done or accomplished that has put me here! I would rather be anywhere else!"

"But you're here now!"

"Because even a continent away, I'm still Jack Graves' daughter before I'm my own person! I'm a First Daughter of MACUSA, people see that long before they see me as a person! I have no power, I'm yanked around as a tool and a threat to powerful people, a bargaining chip and pawn for international power games-"

"So what?" Valencia scoffed, her wire-framed glasses sliding slightly down her nose. "I'm some foster kid from the middle of nowhere and I'm here now in a war-torn country reporting on the truth so no one forgets-"

"I'm the thing keeping Jack from sending Aurors to destabilize Britain! Why do you think MACUSA is punishing Britain economically? Because I'm here and available as a tool to slow Jack's hand! Economic retaliation is the safest way for him to prove a point and keep me from being sent home one piece at a time! That is not a courtesy they will extend to you!"

If Valencia uttered the phrase, 'upper class problems' I would become immediately feral.

"People are getting pulled out of the Ministry daily for perceived slights or even potentially forged documentation."

Valencia seeming pulled a notebook out of thin air and a No Maj pen from behind her ear.

"For fucks sake!" I could have eaten myself like a snake in sheer rage.

"I'm interested in your perspective. I'm nosy. That's why I do this job." She flashed me a smile, a smile I could not return due to how tightly my jaw had clenched. Everyone was crazy and I was just a victim to their madness. "You have so much more to offer the world than just being an extension of President Graves."

Valencia's tone was sisterly and affectionate, as if I was enraged over something petty like a stolen hairbrush or control over the radio – the kind of fights I would expect to have with Annette if we were both slightly less pleasant and accommodating in some ways. I missed Annie, I was missing her growing pain years where I could have a laugh at her early teenage fashion sense and was curious if she had the No Maj goth phase I had long envisioned for her or if she decided to stick with the more vivid colors to disorient our father's political allies when she discussed her morbid fascinations.

I had nothing else to say. I would never be able to swing Valencia to my prospective, to keep her head down and stay safe. That there was no point in dying for something that would never be seen and enjoyed by your own eyes. I was going to live to the end of this, I had more to offer a reasonable life and would do everything I could to make sure that happened in a way that I could live with.

"Now, some of these pamphlets are going stateside. I have a contact. Is there anything you want to say now?"

I inhaled slowly. "I thought you didn't like my stuff?"

"I like it fine, it's just a bit dry. I think a personal prospective from you will get the point across and build more support stateside to get some actual help."

"Let me think about it. I have some things to say but I don't need it traced back to me specifically."

Valencia smiled, "I'd like to ruin Christmas for some powerful people. Give me an answer by Monday next week with a couple of prompts and I'll help you. I'm taking accounts from some of the other Americans as well."

When I emerged from the suitcase and into the dull light of the flat, my hand itching for something to do while my mind whirred faster than Valencia's printing press.

Oo0Oo0

The door to my flat closed behind me with an obnoxious clicking noise as I wordlessly performed the safety spells and checked for intruders to the flat. Percy was out and I was alone for the evening, something that I was familiar with at this point. It did not mean I missed him less. I summoned an apple from the kitchen, the crunching noise seemly echoing around the flat despite the impossibility of it.

Throwing the core of the apple into the trash, my thoughts fully collected. I knew what I wanted to write for Valencia, I would begin that tomorrow, but I had another project I wanted to start and needed to look at my old journals before I began to write something for Valencia anyway. There were things I had seen over the last couple of years I could be willing to discuss, but the details were a little fuzzy at the edges and I wanted the confirmation of my memory. I summoned the proper materials I needed as I moved into Percy's office to commandeer the use of his desk and ink collection.

I dropped down into the Percy's desk chair limply, the same heaviness and weight of a wet flour bag. My fingers traced the edges of my journals that I had summoned out from a box in the wardrobe in the bedroom, the leather-bound covers with slight etchings and carvings that spoke to me in some way, one featuring tidal waves, one an owl staring outward at me, the colors dulled slightly from use and age.

Maybe Valencia was right. Perhaps I had another place in history that just as a First Daughter of MACUSA. That Jack did not have the sole influence over my life and legacy, that Alex's reach did not extend beyond my own in the wider scheme of the world.

I had some kind of story to tell.

Isolt's wand, I felt so much older than twenty.

It may not be a story the public found easy to digest, and maybe some parts could be set aside for a more enlightened time, but I was allowed to write the truth of my life and my experience in this war, but I needed to start at the beginning. I needed to begin with my first real step to take control of my life and leave nothing out. I needed to find the coherence in the madness and lay bare what it was to live through history and all the little signs of change as a warning to others in the future.

With a sigh, I picked up my quill, opening my new, untouched journal with only the blank pages laid bare before me, asking to receive all I had inside of me to keep safe until the world was a better place.

In this moment, I had to choose honesty over fear and ideas of perfection. My family was not perfect. I was not perfect and I was ready to lay myself bare for the judgment of others when the time came for me to be ready to send my account of this war into the world, like a fledgling bird leaving the nest. I aimlessly doodled a bird perching in a dead tree on the first page as I gathered my resolve and my thoughts.

My account would be of an honest nature, perhaps some would consider it too honest, but the words were mine- for now, I was cleaning up the original truth and thoughts of my journals to find coherency, a narrative, the raw line of who I was as a person and what had carried me to this point in my life.

Heaving a sigh, I put the finishing touching on my doodle and turned the page. According to my journal, this whole adventure began not too long before my eighteenth birthday...

I dipped my pen in the inkwell and knew where I needed to begin.

"I wish you would try a little harder to fit in."

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: This story is essentially this first draft Audrey begins writing here for eventual publication. Her journals are far more sloppily written and filled with much more internal screaming and general incoherence. Also bad poetry for flavor.

Gichi-gami is the Ojibwe (Chippewa) term for Lake Superior in Michigan – the term was used here to add another layer of security to the identity questions.

Also changed the potential chapters to 90.

*sigh*

There are later chapters that may be split later, but 90 looks solid right now.

I also have another job folks!