March 1, 1998
In the days since the attack on Elihu and his Aurors, there had been a tension in the air that left even average Ministry workers on pins and needles. The Daily Prophet had not given the event headline attention, instead sliding it into a back page if it needed to be mentioned at all, but it was known and whispered of within the halls of government.
In the aftermath, to ensure that I remained every bit the beaten dog Yaxley believed me to be, Yaxley kept me close as a personal secretary. This position was both a threat to me, a reminder of the fact that the power of my friends at MACUSA could kill me quickly if they tried anything like that again, and also worked against MACUSA, because the threat of a First Daughter dying through the command of her father was uniquely horrendous press. I was both a threat and promise, living precariously on the edge of a knife and thinking that while I was giving up safety for the greater good with the information I was acquiring, namely the papers I had found on Azkaban itself, discussing the history of the place and some of the security measures, but I needed more and it was kept separate...
With Elihu's survival, a full account of Valencia's arrest and the murder of three Americans, bringing the total to four over the course of this conflict, the tide of international attention was beginning to turn in full to Britain. Word about Valencia being an arrested political prisoner without trial became international news once it was able to leave English shores. When the Americans found out about the matter, the protests took a new tone, growing into a roaring inferno beyond the control of any paper or able to ignored by any news broadcaster. Including PotterWatch, who had no choice by to comment on it while Percy and I listened with bated breath. While River had minimal information to offer aside from broad strokes that managed to slip over the border or from, what I assumed to be, some kind of radio signal pick up that I did not understand because of the nonmagical origin of radio from Europe, he got the gist of the matter and offered some rumored views about what had happened outside the Ministry and what was happening beyond the shores of the British Isles in response.
I soon learned far more about the matter due to Lucinda's own network in Europe. Katie Bell had sent Lucinda a collection of newspapers from France detailing the events taking place and the pair of us read the articles with bated breath.
When Elihu informed MACUSA of the loss of American life in the United Kingdom and the attempted assassination of himself as a sitting diplomat, the protests in America grew in fever. Even with Elihu spending more time out of office than in it, he was still a well-respected and regarded figure within New York and in the wider American community. Elihu had a sharp tongue, quick mind and had gotten involved in one of the greatest American political scandals of the last twenty years- even if people did not know Elihu personally or professionally, the people of America knew his name from various soundbites on the radio and quotes in the New York Ghost. Elihu may not have always been liked, but he was deeply appreciated for his honesty and willingness to get down in the political muck to try and find solutions to the problems of the nation.
Attempting to assassinate a man as popular as Elihu was not going to endear the British Ministry of Magic to the American people. It just made them angrier.
The governors of the home states of the murdered Americans were baying for blood. They wanted justice. Governor Tolbert Till of Montana gave a stirring speech about the life and work of Isadora Chavez, an educator whose work left her caught in a country that was tearing itself apart on a return home from visiting relatives in Spain. His counterpart from California, Yujin Lee, called for a council to bring Britain to heel for the loss of Iva Fitzroy, a secretary for the MACUSA Embassy, while Governor Florence Covington of Pennsylvania called for the same regarding Otto Zajac, a man who had gone to render medical assistance to Saint Mungo's in the early days of open war and a veteran of the war against Grindelwald, serving with Ophelia Graves as part of the medical corps and an acclaimed Healer instructor in the years after the war after becoming a citizen. He had split his time between the Embassy Healing Center and Saint Mungo's during his time in Britain.
I remembered Otto, he attended my grandmother's funeral and had a German accent. He had very kind eyes and gave me candy at the reception.
Elihu's former colleagues in the Senate were beginning to call for retribution for what was clearly a state sponsored hit on a former New York Senator. The previous president Cunningham had been speaking with the papers, praising Elihu's longstanding service to his country and that she would support the current administration in their decisions regarding Britain. Cunningham also said that no matter how annoying or provocative Elihu could be, nothing he said or did tended to warrant an assassination attempt. She also stated that America stood behind Elihu in his recovery as we mourned our dead and wished to return Valencia Talbot, and the other Americans abroad, to the safety of their home nation.
Citizens had gathered in MACUSA, taking over the atrium and having one of the largest sit-in protests the country had seen in years as different protest groups gathered to say their peace. There were reports of British owned businesses in America being covered with pro-Seed slogans, such as 'Magic Grows Wild.' The British Embassy was being met with protests and anti-British sentiment as protesters began to meet outside of the embassy for a bit of fresh air- somehow managing to tag the building with the phrase 'No Snakes!' Alongside other general graffiti and paint spatter to prove a point.
Students were calling for Muggle-Born rights, calling for a full enshrinement of those rights in amendments instead of simple legal judgements from our national court, some breaking away to focus on Valencia in particular as an American citizen caught in a foreign-domestic conflict, now locked up in a violation of free speech. Their frequent proclamations were to set her free and prove that America was safe for all people. They wanted negotiation, but it was not in Jack Graves' nature to recognize rogue governments of any sort, particularly that of a former ally.
Among others were those who were old enough to remember Valencia's name as a topic of gossip and slander, along with the court case that made her and Elihu famous, were calling to leave her there. That she made her choice to stay, and a stupider decision to actively degrade the government. This group said it seemed to be a pattern with Valencia that had finally come home to roost.
Others called Valencia a liar. That she was a dirty-blooded social climber who used powerful purebloods to attain social clout and prominence and that she was not raped, she had consented and regreted to the act, and then tried to save face. That everything coming out of Britain was a gross exaggeration from a known troublemaker who had now trying to invite unrest to another government and now cause an international conflict by dragging MACUSA into a war by trying to make herself a martyr.
Another group of students were calling for my father to admit his part in casting doubt over the crime committed against Valencia all those years ago. That Jack Graves cared more about protecting his political friends and allies on his climb to power than to bring justice to Valencia and contribute to the lack of trust women had that their own cases would be investigated. Those students were calling for my father's resignation for protecting the senator in question. Several held signs asking Jack what his daughters thought of his part in the coverup?
By the Twelve. This was insanity. It had not been very long since any of this happened.
Lucinda handed me another newspaper and I skimmed the headlines for something relevant.
I guess what Elihu had told me had some grain of truth to it. There were now loudly spoken rumors of my father being able to talk to snakes and they were now in international papers with pictures and quotes from the heart of MACUSA – proclaiming that Jack's secret talents were the reason for his soft stance on parselmouths. Some protesters were featured holding live snakes at a press conference that my father was speaking at- they were shouting at Jack to tell the truth as security dragged them away, some threw the snakes at Jack as they left. A proclamation that made me laugh until my sides hurt from the amusement and sheer horror at this turn of events.
If only they knew! Jack reads bones, Alex joins terrorist organizations, I can talk to snakes, Annette is way too interested in body decomposition... Aldridge seems to just be a very fat toddler per the recent press photos I've seen. The only normal person is Vanessa and she raised the younger two!
My family is just a bunch of freaks in nice clothes.
Percy is going to be a nice normal bit of fresh air at the family dinners.
I... I never realized how much I missed them. Except Vanessa. Despite how hard things have been between us - I want to hug my father. I need to see my sister.
To be branded a parselmouth in this political climate could be devastating for a politician. To have a family member with the label could destroy a dynasty.
My peculiarities would have to remain a secret for the rest of my life.
Oo0Oo0
Being invited to the MACUSA Embassy was a reserved for normal periods of history. Power politicians, dignitaries, representatives, or in Percy's case, a case of political mechanization to interrogate and attempt to intimidate on the part of the MACUSA President. These invitations were extended as matters of state for the those in positions of power, or those that the embassy represented. One generally did not get to waltz in without meeting resistance.
Inviting myself, however, was a matter of political privilege.
Auror Jenkins drew his wand and I understood that he was much like Quincy, using easy affability to hide his competence and ferocity. Dropping my charms quickly was a matter of not getting blown to pieces at his warning. Jenkins changed his tone quickly once my identity was confirmed to his satisfaction, offering apologies for the response and welcoming me inside.
The MACUSA Embassy was full of Americans, a diverse array of accents assailed my ears. The high perkiness of Minnesota, the varying array of drawls from the southeast, the rapid confidence of the northerners who sounded like me. It was like being back in America.
I was not homesick; I was just surprised by how suddenly foreign everything sounded to my ears.
The embassy atrium seemed to have become a sort of refugee center in the last few weeks since I had last been here There were tables with cards and books, a sign advertising a book club, some other signs pointing to other rooms for duelling lessons and spell practice. One room was labelled for first aid healing practice. There were also small tables with various goods like blankets, cloth, yarn and other craft supplies run by impromptu shopkeepers who were trying to get people engaged in a new hobby. Other corridors led to offices or bedrooms for those who had come here to take refuge. There seemed to be more than Seeds here now.
But there was something under this undercurrent of civility as I followed the guard through the room.
Fear.
Anger.
It was all in the rushed whispers and the suddenness of the man from Michigan that I recognized from the war council proclaiming that he was going to stay and fight. He would be ready when MACUSA came down with a decision.
"We need to stand and fight!" His voice rose over the low rumble that carried over the crowd. "They don't see the difference between a Healer and a civilian! Otto Zajac was here to help people and they murdered him!"
There was a crowd gathering around him, nodding in agreement.
"They tried to assassinate Elihu Weathers!" The Michigander's voice seemed to take over the room. "These people are not our allies anymore, they're out sowing terror and fear in their own nation and spreading beyond their borders, we must do everything we can to stop them!"
That man needs to consider a career in politics.
I reached out to Auror Jenkins who was leading me to the Embassy Medical Center, "It seems a bit full in here."
Jenkins sighed; his usual liveliness belayed by exhaustion. "We've been taking in more than the Seeds after everything that happened. A lot are coming for safety and asking to refresh their duelling credentials under the citizen solider militia proclamations from two hundred years ago."
"Really?" Citizen Soldiers Militias were not uncommon, but they were independent, radical political groups generally, but the proclamations allowed for MACUSA to create new divisions out of volunteers in times of danger either under draft or under an independent request.
Auror Jenkins nodded, facing me as some of his usually buoyancy returned, "Now you listen'ere, it's nothing to worry about. Mobilizing MACUSA could take months, but when we come to party, we party hard. Which means there will be nothing left behind of these silly purists."
Yeah, and MACUSA's reputation as warhawks will be firmly solidified. Jack would love to have that as security for Magical Americans abroad, a constant global promise of retribution if harm comes to them.
We turned down a corridor that took us down a straight path to the carefully labelled Medical Center with the name of the Healer in Residence beneath, Healer Flora Jones and Deputy Healer Imran Hussain.
Outside the door was my cousin Quincy – who had clearly been waiting for me by the speed that he threw his arms around my neck, not caring about Jenkins being in full view.
"I'm sorry!" He muttered next to my ear. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you."
"I told you to go. I knew what would happen." I clutched Quincy tightly; he smelled like home with a distinct aroma of spices and sea salt. "I'm glad you came for me. I'm so happy you're alive! How's Cassandra?"
"Got a bit of a haircut, but she's fine. She pulled me out of there once Elihu was cleared." Quincy pulled back, sniffling audibly and rubbing his eyes. There was a slight burn scar at his neck that seemed to be healing that climbed up his jaw behind his ear. "Have you gone into hiding? I can get you a room here. Cassandra misses you and wants your opinion on wedding dresses."
"Trying to bribe me with fashion?"
"Works with my sister."
Zuri really was the most fashionable member of the extended family- I never was quite able to grasp her chatter of jewel tones and winter undertones. Granted, since she lived in a warm climate, I would never trust her to recommend me a sweater.
"Zuri's easy to bribe." I allowed myself a playful roll of my eyes. I did need to send her a nice silk scarf, she could wear it to her shows.
"Yeah, don't you have to offer Annette snakeskin or something?"
"Books about mummies, she wants me to send her a Death Eater mask actually."
"See, she was asking me for animal bones. Apparently, she's starting to dabble in taxidermy."
Poor Auror Jenkins was looking increasingly concerned about the state of the Graves women- perhaps thinking he dodged a bullet when I turned him down for a date.
"How's Elihu?"
Quincy shrugged, "Well, he's on a lot of drugs."
Jenkins snorted a laugh from somewhere behind me.
"I'll take you in and take my post at the door. Jenkins?"
"I'll send the Chief in when she gets down from her security meeting." Jenkins gave a lazy salute, a crooked grin on his face as he tipped his cowboy hat. "Won't be too long."
Quincy nodded and motioned for me to follow him into the medical center. It was a starch white room with some carefully placed spatter art on the hallway walls to prevent total madness for staff and visitors, it looked like a hallucinogenic trip from the seventies – but it did make the center seem more friendly to civilians who had taken refuge here. I could see some people sitting on beds behind curtains being treated by the Deputy Healer – He wore the red patch displaying his rank – and was giving a lesson to some people in civilian clothing with pink stripes, indicating their volunteer status about healing wounds and triaging in times of crisis. They were going to practice on some pork and cloth before moving onto something a bit more difficult with a muscular system like sea life or particular magical plants, depending on what the Deputy Healer could locate. He appeared to be using the man on the bed as an active demonstration for what he wanted his students to be able to achieve.
I knew a bit about Healer Hussain, he studied under Otto Zajac and cowrote a few papers with him over the last few years regarding curse treatment. He must be absolutely wrecked over his mentor's murder and he's still teaching.
"Hussain's a tough fellow," Quincy whispered as we moved away from the scene to a door at the end of the hallway. "I caught him crying in his breakfast this morning. He's a pain into action sort of man and he's been running classes since we had the confirmation of what happened. He fully expects MACUSA to go to war over this and we need everyone who's willing to stay and contribute if that's the case."
This is insane.
"Those are civilians!"
Quincy shrugged, "Citizen soldier proclamation. If they want to volunteer for a potential war effort, we won't stop them."
"That's not right."
"No." Quincy paused, "But we're not going to stop them. We're out of choices." A heavy sigh escaped my cousin, "Choosing to fight is not a simple decision, it looks that way, but we have put a lot of thought into this. People in this war effort are choosing risk everything for a better future. I've elected to respect that choice, do my part, even if I don't entirely agree at times. I'm ready for this fight and they are too."
He was insane. They were all insane. Maybe I was too, because I understood it.
Colin and Dennis had gone to help their friends at Hogwarts somehow. Quincy had come to the Ministry, ready to fight for me at my say so to bring me out of Britain or to the safety of the Embassy. Elihu had come to fight for the dead Americans and for Valencia.
When the time came, because it felt so inevitable, would I be able to put everything on the line for a future I may never see.
"You hear anything about Potter lately?" Quincy asked as we arrived outside of Elihu's room, Quincy gave a quick salute to a civilian guardsman, who wore the patch of citizen service. The guardsman responded in kind and gave me a polite nod as he left his post for Quincy to take.
"No, I've heard nothing."
"Shame. We could rally people around Potter to end this thing sooner."
Quincy knocked on the door for me, turning the handle at the sudden proclamation to enter to allow me inside.
When I saw Elihu, he was sitting up in bed in the MACUSA Embassy Medical Center, wrapped in bandages that climbed up his neck and shoulder, peering out of a hospital shirt while reading the newspaper with a furrowed brow and a tense set to his jaw that reminded me of Percy when he was worried and willing to suggest stupid things. His hair was rumpled and there was a stack of paperwork sitting next to him on a bedside table and at a certain angle, I could see the newly forming scar at his hairline, the end peeking out from under the arm of his glasses near his ear. Elihu had been clearly battered, but the Aurors had done their job well.
"Your cousin is a menace."
"You'll have to be more specific."
Elihu gave me a look. "The one at the door. He doesn't let me out."
"Yeah, the Healer outranks you until you're off the pain potion," Quincy's voice came through the open door with a stern force I was unaccustomed to hearing from him. There was no gentle mockery in his tone or teasing sarcasm. "And I don't trust you to do anything intelligent in the meantime."
"You sound like Chief Hanlon."
Quincy popped his head around the doorframe with a smug smile.
"Ugh." Elihu half leaned, half fell back into his pillows like a disgruntled teenager.
If Elihu did not have such a tragic air about him, the gesture would have been funny.
Instead, he picked up some papers and waved them around, "Listen, I can't be abed and dealing with more of your uncle's shenanigans! How about you manage him instead?"
Quincy raised an eyebrow. "I'll protest in his office, but even I'm not stupid enough to try that."
"What's going on now?"
Elihu handed me a paper, as I read it with increasing horror, Elihu was giving me a short explanation to cover some of my gaps in current coding procedures.
"Your father has just arrested the British Diplomats. The papers should be covering that in the next day or two, but they've been publicly dragged out of the Embassy, Jack has gone and said they will be returned to Britain when they return the bodies of our dead and return Valencia to American soil. He's dared the International Wizarding Confederation to do something about it."
I needed a moment to process that.
"It's put him on good terms with the bloodthirsty Americans." Elihu took the papers from me and put them off to the side. "They're getting ready for war. Training militias. Recruiting spellslingers and trying to get the old dragoons back in action without the dragons eating too many wix in the process."
"How... How long do we have?"
Elihu shrugged, "Anywhere from a few weeks to two months. We need to be ready here too."
Why was everybody crazy?
"Elihu," I took the seat next to the bed and poured him a glass of water. "We can't wait."
"Wait for what?"
"You know what." I gave Elihu a hard stare. "We can rescue Valencia."
Elihu tried to sit up for a moment, lost his balance for a moment before finally sitting up fully with a gasp of pain. "What?"
I could hear Quincy in the doorway, shifting slightly to cause the rustle of his Auror robes.
"What if I can get the maps of Azkaban?"
"No."
"We can stop this escalation."
"No."
"Elihu, she doesn't need to be there as a symbol and bargaining chip to goad or threaten MACUSA-"
"Absolutely not."
I stood up, peering down at Elihu with a stubborn set my jaw and a quickly controlled quiver of my mouth.
"Listen to me," Elihu reached out to grab my hand before I could storm out of the room. "You've done enough. We've all made our choices and it's time you chose your life over other people. It's too dangerous."
I sat back down and put my other hand on Elihu's. "You love Valencia. No, don't pretend you're above something I know you are so capable of. I see it in your eyes when you look at her and yes, you do a terrible job at hiding it. She loves you too, and I think that is something worth fighting for. Little bits of joy in this terrible world are worth everything and if that becomes your core motivation to topple a government, then so mote it be."
Elihu was quiet, slipping his hand from mine as his brow furrowed and the weight he seemed to carry at his shoulders returned. I took in the lines at his eyes that seemed to convey a wisdom of years that Elihu had yet to live.
"Seichel."
"Hm?"
"It means intelligence, wisdom, both you have in abundance. Some say it means common sense, which is the part you lack."
"You're the nicest person I know."
Elihu rolled his eyes at my sarcastic comment. "I'm Jewish by culture and blood more-so than faith, but I always liked how my grandfather explained the idea of religion to me. That we must put in our best efforts and hopefully leave the world a better place than we found it, even if the outcome is not in our control and in the hands of higher powers."
That was the level of directness in description that I expected from Elihu, I was beginning to think that was a family trait.
"This... thing... you are suggesting would make you a spy. A blatant spy for MACUSA. The kind of treason you would never be forgiven for by the British Ministry after this affair comes to an end because what you are proposing would solely benefit MACUSA. Your home nation would never trust you again, even if it was for our own benefit. Nor would you work for the British Ministry again." Elihu took a deep breath, wincing as something about the act irritated his wounds. "International politics is a game where peace, order and diplomacy dance on the edge of knife and relies on good faith agreements between disagreeing nations. MACUSA is readying itself to come and make war because that good faith with Britain has come and gone. We do not trust Britain to keep their word any longer and your father believes this country is weak enough to take control of in a matter of months."
"Right, we have some of the best Aurors in the world, but he's wanting to upset the balance of the world to prove a point?"
"To fight the Ministry," a new voice came from the doorway, "would be a matter of fighting a government made of usurpers and terrorists." I turned to find Auror Chief Temperance Hanlon stepping into the room, her boots heavy on the floor as she crossed the room. "This will not be a war like those stories Atticus Graves tells you. There are no clear battlelines, no way of telling who is truly a friend or foe, because the mask doesn't matter anymore, and a powerful, dangerous warlock in the shadows that even we cannot truly confirm the location of muddies the waters of our actions and creates room for error."
"You know where the Chief Death Eater is?"
Temperance shrugged, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "We have ideas, but nothing conclusive. We have too many people here to protect and leaving the embassy building could be suicide. We don't have the numbers to be wrong."
Quincy stepped into the room next, staying in the doorway, that hint of the good little soldier who did not leave his post, but knew how to bend the rules ever so slightly. "Don't forget the prophecy thing."
Temperance snorted, "I don't believe in prophecies, kid."
"But enough people do to demoralize anyone going to kill the Chief Death Eater," Quincy shrugged. "Some teenager isn't going to save these people."
"I don't believe in prophecies either, but after you've been an Auror as long as I have, you see enough weird shit that you'll believe anything."
Quincy's mouth turned upwards in a crooked smile, "I got a tattoo on my bottom of a boot print to commemorate all those times you told me you'd shove your foot up my ass."
"I'll make that reality for free."
This earned a dry laugh from Elihu before he gave into a heavy groan of pain. I passed him a bottle of pain relief potion, popping the top off for him.
"That way you went after Yaxley was amazing by the way."
"You think?" He took a drink of potion as Healer Jones popped her head out of her closet sized office to give an approving nod. "It was stupid and I'm sorry you got hurt."
"Don't be, barely felt a thing."
Elihu raised an eyebrow, but elected not to comment any further on the topic, we could not turn back time in that regard.
Healer Jones knocked on the door of her office to get our attention. "I'm so sorry, but visiting hours are finished. I need to check Mr. Weathers and see if we can lower his medications."
"You high, Elihu?" Temperance asked wryly, her mouth quirking up in a smile. "You gonna share?"
"Please, I'm not studying law anymore."
Quincy was laughing quietly, having the good grace to cover his mouth with his hand.
Healer Jones was left to sputter that the suggestion was not legal, that the diplomat was not high he was merely medicated and-
I blocked out the rest of the conversation, deciding that my time in the Ministry was coming to an end and I clearly had no idea what the future would bring. I could do one last thing before I disappeared and I had every intention of putting the right documents in the correct hands.
What they did with the information was their business.
Oo0Oo0
Author's Note: Aldridge actually grows up to be the only normal Graves offspring. 1 in 4 being normal and well-adjusted are pretty decent odds.
I quite like this chapter. I've also been sick this week, so it's going up early so I can focus on the two coming up.