March 17 – March 28, 1998
The evening after what would be my final day at the Ministry, I sat in a parlor at Thornell that evening and told Lucinda and Tavish everything that had happened, up to and including Harrow's violence against me. After the shocked silence of my proclamation, I managed to inform them that I was going into hiding and would not be returning to the Ministry. I begged her and Tavish to keep the details of the decision from Percy, knowing that Percy would menace himself in defense of my honor, even when it was not sensible.
That was more than enough for Lucinda to end the operation out of Thornell. Word of my departure from the Ministry and the Averys pressing on with attaining the house and property forced her hand, a lack of security and so many mouths to feed had backed us all into a wall. My report that they had found a village to dump her in only made Lucinda move faster while she vowed to leave Thornell feet first. She meant dead. Lucinda had long planned to die in the house and she was not going to let the Averys upset her plans to do so at some point in the next several decades.
In a hurried discussion between myself, Tavish and Lucinda a plan was formed. Lucinda had long been reluctant to make Thornell Unplottable, it was a big spell that could remove the house entirely from the Averys grasp for a time, long enough to let the children in residence grow up or buy us all time to start moving them out. The other option was to have a Secret-Keeper, and Lucinda found that option far more appealing. It was safer, cleaner and it did not involve the high degree of magic that would attract the Ministry's attention by essentially putting Thornell into a place between reality and illusion. The Findelius Charm would make the home unplottable, the inhabitants unseeable and soundproof to invaders as a last resort. Disorientation spells could work on those who wanted to come to the house, they would forget why they ever came once they hit the front gate, offering another layer of protection.
The point of reluctance for Lucinda in enacting this plan... was Alex.
Lucinda was worried that Alex may still return, even if it was not to save her house, it was too late for that in any case. He was still Lucina's child and she loved him for that.
It was not in my heart to tell Lucinda the truth of Alex. It was easier to contemplate the crows outside, thinking about the inherent freedom of their flight patterns and collect my thoughts while I chose my words carefully.
"Wherever Alex is, he is safer than we could hope to be now. We don't love him less for choosing the well-being of those under our care."
Tavish nodded in agreement; his large hands clasped together. I could see the tip of Tinsy's bat-like ear around a nearby corner, it was shaking slightly with more of the reverberating trembling that I was unaccustomed to with Tinsy, a more confident House-Elf one would never meet.
Lucinda seemed to slump for a moment under the weight of the everything that had come to light in the last hour.
"The Secret Keeper cannot be someone who lives in the house." Lucinda rose to her feet to look at Tavish and I, the light from the window reflecting off her glasses in an ominous, frightening way, the resignation in her tone was obvious, but contrasted with the certainty in the set of her shoulders. "It would break if we left the extent of the property."
"My house is not Thornell itself," Tavish said as he stood. "I'll be Secret Keeper."
"No, I'll do it." I stood up and met my pseudo-grandparents as an equal at last. "I'm going into hiding, and I have a better chance of getting in touch with Alex though his contacts." I did not care to break Lucinda's heart with the truth of him. "Let me do it so you two can focus on everything here."
There were protests, Lucinda was adamant that Tavish could do it, that his separate address was a loophole. I countered that Tavish was still on the property by legal definition and the Fidelius Charm could not protect him as well, if I did it, we could safely cover the whole property with no further worries of gaps. Tavish could move into a room downstairs in case the charm focused on the estate house and not the property, it had a better chance of working right the first time and encompassing the land beyond the house as I was a blood relative. Magic bound by blood was stronger than one of chosen family- even if one believed otherwise.
An agreement was struck. I would act as Secret Keeper, which would make everyone who currently lived inside of Thornell safe from viewing, even if the Averys broke into the house they so coveted. In exchange, I would give ensure Alex knew that everyone had officially gone into hiding.
It took a few minutes to prepare the proper materials, a candle that had runes carved quickly into it by Tavish's large though unusually nimble hands and the small knife he apparently kept on his person for work that was too precise for wandwork. Quick practice of the words of enchantment and spellcraft from a book that Lucinda had summoned from upstairs, the scream from one of the children told me someone had almost been hit in the head. The magic was so old that it tasted of ash on my tongue.
Lucinda took my hand. Tavish stepped forward, placing his hand over ours to act as our binder. His hands were calloused and cold from his work outside with the brief Herbology lesson from that morning. He gripped out hands tightly before removing himself to light the candle and return his hands to ours to hold them steady over the rising smoke of the candle that was popping and crackling under our hands.
"I, Audrey Constance Graves, offer my soul in binding to the guarding and protection of the estate of Thornell, the lands of my ancestors, dwelled upon by Lucinda Gormlaith Ainsley and those of her blood, our blood and those under her protection and care." The smoke rose and wrapped around our hands like a python, a smokey imitation of its death squeeze. "No torture shall move me; no fear of death shall compel me to loose my tongue until such time that the mistress of this house declares my freedom from this burden."
"I, Lucinda Gormlaith Ainsley, accept the offering of Audrey Constance Graves to act as the Secret-Keeper of Thornell, to become the guardian of its residents be they blood or guests in this home." The flame of the candle rose as Lucinda spoke, consuming our bound hands as her voice reverberated through the room. "I bind your soul to the words of your vow, our shared blood a binding promise to protect and guard this place to the best of your ability, to end your watch when I deem it so."
"So mote it be!" Our voices chimed in unison as the fire died as suddenly as it rose.
In the hours since the binding of Thornell to my soul, I had informed Percy of this sensible option to go into hiding and passed on word from Lucinda about ceasing operations until further notice. Percy seemed relieved that I had seen sense. We dwelled quietly in our shared apartment as my soul spun and twisted itself around new arrangement of secrets. I began to more deeply understand the burdens hiding had placed on the restless youth of Thornell in previous months of hiding and secrecy. Colin's terrier-like shaking a need for action became something that quickly dwelled at the edges of my mind as I looked longingly at the front door.
The information I had gathered about the location of Valencia within Azkaban had been committed to memory, the location written down as I remembered it and the hope I had of getting an opportunity to deliver the information to Elihu, under these conditions, I needed to arrange a meeting with the Embassy, if I cared to out myself as a spy, or perhaps just leave it on his desk if I wanted to ensure my privacy and protect any future careers Percy and I had left. In any case, leaving the building was to risky right now, Yaxley had a warrant out for my arrest as a sympathizer, Percy had brought me a copy to admire. I intended to have it framed for posterity.
I quickly fell into a charmingly domestic lifestyle that gave me something to think about other than how strange it was to be home all day. Percy having a lunch meant he could wander off and hide somewhere out of sight for a time- I liked to think he would do that, perhaps I was providing him an avenue for safety with every sandwich.
It was easier to sink to this domestic life than dwell on everything going on beyond our front door.
My life settling into a routine of coffee, preparing lunch for Percy and cleaning the flat until lunch when I would eat fruit and watch the neighbors. The afternoons were spent checking the potions supplies or and our escape bags, my third option then studying spellcraft from the Graves Family Grimoire and watching the neighbor Ms. McCloud, the No-Maj neighbor, (who I liked to imagine was an amateur detective with a talent for finding corpses) walk her pretty white schnauzer before I began my daily efforts to craft an edible, interesting, dinner.
After dinner, Percy and I would chatter about the day, what kind of deranged nonsense was happening at the Ministry since I had gone into hiding. It was not much, but Yaxley seemed paler and had been ranting that perhaps I should have been locked up for the crime of being a disagreeable cow. How perfect.
Our evenings were spent in planning and flirtation and quiet hours of reading that soon gave way to sex as a sort of stress relief. It felt like the sort of normal thing to engage in if these times were not insane, it was like a grip on normalcy that neither of us was willing to shake away.
As the days passed and the routine began to settle into my bones. Coffee, pack lunch, cleaning, eat my lunch, watch the neighbor water his plants. Practice spells, still no patronus, shame. Why am I not happy? Read the Grimoire and think about why my ancestors were so fucked up? Was it trauma? Am I going to be this deranged when this is over? Did all of them have Spellshock? Why am I such a terrible cook? Merlin's underpants, my children will starve in my own house if Percy leaves town! I'm surprised Percy and I have not starved on my cooking. I can't make salad three days in a row without doing something different to it? Apples? But those are my breakfast. But it would be interesting! I've seen it done at summer parties with Grandpa Atticus when he wasn't getting Quincy to beat me up in duelling practice. I have no idea what that dog's name it, but it is the cutest dog! It's also dog shaped, not one of those tiny, shivering, naked niffler looking creatures. No focus! Are you putting apples in the salad? Peas or corn? We had peas last night. Could I put cold peas in the salad? Brilliant!
My days continued to passed together as a coherent blur of time. My healing spells improved, the flat was in peak condition and all of the household chores had been handled and managed to the point of being ahead of schedule. Which left me far more bored and deranged that I had been while living the happy little housewife fantasy. Staying home made more sense if I had someone besides Hermes with me. Hermes tolerates me, but I think he knows I'm trying to buy his love so he'll wear the little hat I made for him out of old newspapers.
I wish Hermes could talk, maybe I would feel less insane. Though I imagined he was a pretentious gossip. Perhaps I should learn how to knit?
While my days were a continuous monotony, my nights were haunted by implacable, senseless nightmares that I could barely recall – filling my nights with a dread the reeked of a primal sort of terror that I did not understand in the waking world if I could remember it at all.
Closing my eyes at night always had a fear to it these days, even if it was not something I could place or explain the memory of.
Somewhere between the haze of reality and sleep, I found myself dreaming of a green world. Soft grass and heavy, old trees that told me that this was a place long untouched by humanity. The soft breath of the bubbling spring could be heard in the distance just behind a bush, moving me forward to break a trail on an untouched newborn world.
There was birdsong from the trees. High, melodic whistles that rose and fell as the tittering grew louder. Soon mixing in with the and softer under a rapid flutter of winds as they took to the sky above upon realizing my presence. The blue sky peeked through the canopy of leave and entwining branches above me, the light beaming down to cut through the dark shadows of the forest.
The forest grew in front of me, remaining as beautiful as what I had seen before it. The cool shade of the trees, the rustling of low bushes where wildlife hid. The winding path before me had grass shoots coming up through the desire line, crafted by those who walked this path before – there did not seem to be many and it had been so long.
Continuing down the dirt path was all I could do. It was easier and I wanted to see what was at the end of the path.
I walked past old trees, thick and wide like the old sequoias at Kings Canyon. I paused, something catching my attention on the bark on the tree.
There were scorch marks... they had finger marks at the top as if something taller than me had collapsed against the tree – falling down to leave a trail behind. Something ablaze. Something alive.
I touched the marks carefully – feeling the smoothness of the tree that lay under the bark that had been burned away. What sort of monster had done this?
Was it waiting for me?
That thought faded as quickly as it arrived.
I could not turn back. There was nothing behind me. I could only move forward.
As I walked down the path, there were more trees with the burns on the trees and the smell of burned grass assailed my senses. Something told me to leave this place. Step off the path to the river.
Something took me by the shoulders and shoved me off the path when I hesitated.
I was falling, tumbling end over end down the sudden emergence of a hill and coming to a stop face first in acold, soft mud of a riverbank. Getting up and spitting the dirt from my mouth and trying to wipe the dirt from my eyes was mostly unsuccessful, but I could see enough to find the river proper and stick my face into the water to give myself a proper wash.
When I came up for air, there was a boat before me. Inside were dark, humanoid shapes in silly hats and glowing eyes like embers or hot coals. They seemed to be made of smoke and they held form well enough in front of my eyes, but always seemed at the risk of being blown away to nothing in a stiff sudden breeze in this strange world.
Several reached out of the boar, putting the oars aside and grabbing me to pull me into the boat as I gave a shriek of protest. I found myself in the center of the boat, sitting alone as the shades began to row once more. They were taking me somewhere, I was not sure where they could take me, there was nothing but the river and the encompassing forest around us and ahead of us as far as I could see.
The shades that rowed the boat wore little hats of indistinguishable origin. The one in front wore a little purple top hat upon his head, marking him as distinct among the other gray hats that handled the oars.
One wore a Native American headdress that I could not place, he guided the rudder at the back and stared silently ahead as began to relax into the silent journey.
I heard only the sound of the oars breaking the surface of the water, taking me further into forest that echoed only a peaceful silence as the boat moved downriver.
In an instant, my companions were suddenly wailing and burning – aglow with the light of fires and, the emerging embers of coal at their hearts consuming them so quickly the sudden light of it left me momentarily blinded. I leapt from the boat with a cry into the swamp water that rose to my thighs, threatening to suck me down to the dark, muddy depths below as I duck walked to the shoreline, almost tripping over the heavy sand as I got to the shore.
There were more shades here, gloomier and sadder than the ones in the boat, sitting in circles or staring out into the water with listless expressions. The silence around them extended out to the dark world around us. The building rose behind them, looking like a New York skyscraper. The door opened for me and I wandered inside to escape the stares of the shades.
The world around me changed, gone was the sad world of the forest and now I stood in a courtroom. I knew this place, the mosaic on the floor showed the symbol of MACUSA in careful blue and white stones to contrast the severe grey of the courtroom around me. The seats were high and full of shades, dark and sinister as they looked down at me with expressionless, but judgemental expressions.
My mouth moved, but no sound escaped me. Why was I here? What was going on?
The judge sat on high, all shadows and flowing robes, eyes aflame like burning embers. Before him was a set of scales, golden and stunning for their unusualness in this world. He held a silver sword aloft as he tilted his head down to look at me. With a sudden swing, the sword came down upon the scales, shattering it, the pieces falling to the floor below with clamour and clatter, promises broken of justice and fairness, whatever they were. The sword fell down next, thrown down to embed itself at my feet, barely missing me by inches.
Spoken words echoed through the room in an eerie chant that shook my bones are gripped my soul in terror.
"Jusssstitiaaa..."
"Vita..."
"... Salutem..."
"Viiitttaaaahh..."
"... Saaluuuusss..."
The shades came closer, deciding from their places on high judgement in a dark wave of shadow and smoke. The words were gravelly, whispery and ancient in power that left me feeling sick with the horror of it echoing through body and soul. Their limbs melting away as they came down to the mosaic to try and envelope me as they continued their eerie chant as they seemed to fuse together into one singular force.
"... Salutem..."
"... Spiritus..."
"... Salus..."
"Justitia..."
"... Mortis!"
I turned to run.
The chanting grew louder and stranger, echoing through the forest, the chanting falling in time with beating of drums and through my mind as the shades appeared through the trees, extending their hands to grab my ankles and try to pull me further into their dark world. I leapt deftly away, avoiding their grasp until something wrapped around my neck and hauled me upwards into the tree as I kicked and flailed, struggling to breathe as my body grew weaker. The darkness closed in around me, a weightless sensation of relief consumed me and with one final gasp the darkness grabbed me. The only constant on my senses as the world faded away was the stench of rotting flesh.
I sat up in the bed, my hand clutched my chest and my breath came in short panicked gasps.
What was that?
It made no sense.
Had my near isolation and boredom driven me to some state of madness?
Again, again I was plagued by nightmares. From the time I left the Ministry to go into hiding, I had the same dream most nights. It gripped me. Wrenched me about in a state beyond reason and sanity. I was not inclined to prophecy or visions, I had no inclination to seek them out the way my father does, but the stench of rotting flesh still lingered as if it was a true experience.
Percy's hand reached over, sleepily tapping around as he tried to find my hand or just get my attention for a moment.
"Muh... Audrey...?"
It was so hard to breath. The dreams had never felt so real before. It was real and vivid and grabbed me so harshly I could feel burning hands on my person either trying to save me or throw me into something beyond the reach or mortals.
"Audrey?" Percy's voice had a sudden level of coherence as he gripped my hand. "What's wrong?"
I couldn't look at him. Explaining this madness that was already slipping from my mind would be an impossible task. I could feel the details falling from my memory, leaving only the horrid imprint of images that scarred my soul with something beyond foulness.
"Nothing..." Why were my hands still trembling? "Just a nightmare..."
Why did it make me feel so sick?
Percy had found my hand at this point, twining his fingers with mine and returning to a tone of tired mumbling. "C'mere..."
I laid back down, curling into Percy's side as I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of parchment and pleasant wood-like smell of his soap that immediately comforted me in ways that were indescribable.
The dream faded as suddenly as it arose in me, but the lingering sense of something foul and wrong and sick continued to follow me – even if I had no context for the root of it.
Oo0Oo0
Author's Note: I wanted Audrey's time inside to feel a bit like the pandemic. I hope I caught the vibe.