May 2, 1998

There was a great, joyous eruption from the fighters. The roar overtook the Great Hall, strangers were pulling each other into exuberant hugs, sobs of joy were louder than the ones of sorrow.

Lucinda had yanked me into a tight hug while Tinsy whooped and hollered from Tavish's shoulder as the grizzled old gardener grabbed us both in a hug with a jubilant cry of his own, his tears dripped into my hair as he squeezed us both so tightly, I could feel a momentary struggle for air. I peered out to see Harry Potter being swarmed by friends, his glasses slightly askew from the force of affection before he disappeared entirely in the swarming mass.

I would see Harry Potter someday in a less chaotic time, heroes always had invitations to political events. I would thank him then for all he had done.

The sudden release of Lucinda and Tavish left me staggered and gave me a chance to wipe the tears that had appeared in my eyes from the dirt, dust and elation of the end of the war.

I was brought back to reality by Lucinda grabbing my shoulders and looking into my face with a worried expression. She touched my face with her cool hands and seemed to be examining me for the slightest of bumps and bruises, despite the blood that ran down the side of her face from her own head wound. The whole gesture was so maternal I could have burst into tears.

"Are you okay?" Lucinda's voice cut through the continued celebrations around us. I noticed the crack in one of the lenses of her glasses. Her gray hair was coming loose from her prim bun and stands were sweeping wildly around her face. "Where have you been? You look like death itself!"

I felt like death. The only thing holding me up at this point was my own conviction and need to see the end of this tragedy.

"Alex is dead!" I barely avoided choking on the words, but I needed justice and the window was closing as the room around us continued to shake with jubilation. "Harrow killed him!"

Tavish made a strangled sort of noise as Tinsy wailed from atop his shoulder; the noise swallowed by the continuing chorus of the party around us. In the time Tinsy and I had been together, I had never mentioned Alex's death. It was like the death of Voldemort had managed to loose my tongue of the grief that held it, the wraith had lost some of its hold on me in that instant. I felt freer for reasons that went beyond Voldemort's death, the chains that bound me to the hunt were starting to crack, allowing me to look around at the world with new eyes.

Only Lucinda stayed quiet, there was a rush of emotions on her face in her thinning mouth and shaky breaths. If one of us had to be calm and thoughtful, it needed to be Lucinda. She was a natural leader with sound judgment, a judge forced to play petty politics by the circumstances of her life.

"We... we need to reclaim the Ministry." Lucinda was turning her focus to a larger threat, as she was apt to do – it was stabilizing to focus on something larger than one's own grief. "We need to find the files and protect the records of the atrocities committed."

I spoke up again, a frog coming to settle in my throat as I ignored the desired steadiness of Lucinda. "Harrow needs to be found so justice can be done!"

Lucinda looked at me sharply over the rims of her glasses, the thin line of blood trailing down the side of her face from her scalp, turning her grey hair red with it. "Justice will not be denied, I will make sure of that! Unless we want to keep living in anarchy or make the pursuit of Harrow meaningless, we must sacrifice our short-term satisfaction!" Lucinda paused and took a deep breath and reached out to me, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly, her voice gentling but still audible over the sound of the crowd. "I'm sorry. Harrow will have to wait."

My head nodded of its own volition. I understood Lucinda's logic, I trusted her, but it was hard to let go of my fantasy of giving Harrow the Yaxley treatment.

"Okay," Lucinda pressed on – the logic she offered was cutting through my clouded mind. "We need to figure out who is in charge, or put someone in charge so we can do this legally. When word gets out about this, there are going to be a lot of people at the Ministry and we'll lose all the information you and Percy could not get too."

Right. The big picture. The devil was in the details but until we took full control, we could not get into those details to take them apart.

"You two need to be prepared to be witnesses to everything that happened in that office. This will be fully investigated in the weeks to come."

I could only hope that any inquiry stuck to the facts and would not dig too deeply into our personal lives. That would be the kind of thing a gossip columnist would run wild with at the merest hint of it. Something juicy and almost joyous in a sea of horror and chaos and we deserved peace to put everything back together. Even a short, barely snatched moment of it.

Something clicked in my exhausted mind. "You've seen Percy? He's okay right?"

Tavish snorted, "Saw'm beating da hell outta Thicknesse at the end of da fight. He's alive."

I gave a tired sigh of relief. I needed to sort out my personal life and handle the last of Alex's affairs before I returned home to Percy. It seemed right to close this chapter of my life in full before I returned home.

Home.

I was going to go home.

I could cry with the relief of it.

I needed to take this final journey with Alex, mourn with Thalia and my family. It seemed right somehow, even if it was something others may not understand. Percy was a light at the end of this long, twisting tunnel and I needed to know there was something good and untouched by Alex's drama at the end of it all.

The deep breath I took steadied me in my decisions and allowed the blanket of exhaustion to fall over me in full. I looked around the Great Hall for other familiar faces. I saw Oliver swinging Katie Bell around in a wild hug. I expected the pair of them to come to our flat for drinks at some point in the future. Minerva McGonagall was cheering like she was attending a sporting match while she was hugged by students in various states of dishevelment.

I was an intruder here. This was not my school, these were not my people, but I was here and did my part for a place my brother and I wanted to stay in. There was peace in that.

The crowd was pushed to the sides of the Great Hall to allow for the summoning of the four great tables as Voldemort's body was taken away to an obscure part of the castle where he would be alone. He did not deserve to be in the presence of our own victorious dead.

People began to spread outwards, intermingling for seats at any place they could find. I could see a sea of red hair at one with no available seats nearby. I struggled not to go to go to him, to stay with my family and not intrude on a private reunion. I stayed close to Lucinda and Tavish, we took a few fruits from the end of a table, exchanged words with acquaintances of Lucinda, and moved to the side of the hall where Lucinda conjured four seats of moderate comfort. I sank down gratefully on weakened knees.

Not far away from us, I could see Thalia standing on a conjured box and holding council over a scruffy group of people who looked completely worn down from the fighting. She was healing wounds as she spoke to them, her voice carrying slightly before being swallowed by the jubilation that encompassed the rest of the hall.

"Greyback is defeated, captured, and will trouble this community no longer. We must take this opportunity to rebuild ourselves, not as victims, but survivors of a monster who preyed on many of you as children. It is past time we built a place in society; we are wizards and witches; we were that before we were bit and we remain as such. Our lives are different, not lesser." She adjusted her grip on her wolf head cane. "I know many of you will not be comfortable coming forward publicly, but I am willing to put myself out in front to deal with the new Ministry to ensure you will be protected."

As Thalia spoke the werewolves looked to each other, several nodding in agreement with her words. The opportunity had come for Thalia to take control over Britain's werewolves and Thalia was rising to the opportunity. Thalia was intelligent, wily and kind-hearted under all of the gruff. She had built the relationship with the werewolves under Greyback's nose, softened many to her leadership. Thalia was the right person to represent the interests of werewolves and build them a better place in the world.

"This will take time," Thalia continued, "but we have proven our courage and resilience, now we simply need to show the world who we are without the threat of Greyback with his false promises. Now, I am going to help heal the wounded. Who will come with me?"

All hands were raised and Thalia was helped off the box she had been standing on for attention and led the small group of seven forward towards where the Healers were gathering to administer first aid and stabilizing care to those wounded in the final round of the fight.

I realized that I had just watched a just, compassionate woman begin the steps to take full power of Britain's werewolves and there was such a swelling of pride at the accomplishment and horrible grief that my brother would never see it.

Perhaps that was the real tragedy of death, the inability to see what those one loved would become?

I really needed sleep.

My attention turned back to the platform in front of the Great Hall where Shacklebolt had given a castle shaking call for attention and a great silence fell over the crowd.

"I have accepted the offer to become the interim Minister of Magic until we are stabilized," a great cheer rose from the crowd. Shacklebolt laughed and allowed it to play out before he spoke again. "But in order for that to happen, we must move quickly to reclaim the Ministry of Magic from the remnants of Voldemort's control." Shacklebolt's calming voice echoed through the Great Hall, "Our window is small, I ask for those who are no longer students, who are not heavily injured or mourning a loved one to consider joining me in reclaiming the Ministry. In doing so, my first act will be to formally release the imprisoned Muggle-borns in Azkaban, clear them of all charges and send them home to their families. Amnesty will be given to those imprisoned for resisting Voldemort's puppet regime."

Well, that was oddly convenient.

Lucinda, Tavish and I all exchanged a look, the three of us understood we had finished at Hogwarts – it was time to ensure the new powers were on the world stage. I had too many connections to MACUSA, many who might be willing to offer support to reconstruction and recovery if I was able to verify everything that happened here.

By the Twelve! I just wanted a nap and a sandwich! None of that is my job! I'm technically unemployed! But... I will see this to the end and then take the longest nap known to man before I finish my other obligations. How long have I been awake? I can't remember anymore.

Many of the reinforcements Lucinda had brought were on their feet, they were fresh and energetic. Several were cheering at the proposal of a raid on the Ministry of Magic, the enthusiasm was infectious and catching through the crowd. This might not be a big raiding party, but it would be enough to help secure Shacklebolt's hold on the Ministry and begin to turn the final table towards peace.

"Then we will take the floo from the Hogwarts staff office and go straight to the Ministry. The war is over, but the battle to rebuild ourselves has only just begun!"

There was a great surge towards the doors, more whooping and cheering and I found myself on my feet and answering the call one last time on shaking legs and a pounding headache.

"Tinsy," I looked up at the House Elf who was still on Tavish's shoulders, pleased as punch at the thought of inflicting a little more violence today. "Can you go to the MACUSA Embassy and give word to Elihu Weathers that Voldemort is dead and efforts are being made to reclaim the Ministry?"

"Does Miss Audrey request more aid?" Tinsy's ears moved upwards with interest. "Aurors maybe?"

I waved my hand thoughtlessly as we moved through a door. "I'm too tired to consider what that would look like politically. Let Elihu make the decision, he's gotten more sleep than I have. He will want to be there to meet Valencia when the prisoners are released."

Tinsy promptly gave a military salute and disappeared from Tavish's shoulders with a small popping noise.

"She's a bi' ova firecracker, ain't she?" Tavish chuckled. "I like da elf."

I nodded in agreement. I was going to have to come up with interesting ways to keep Tinsy amused in the future, I felt it might be the safer option.

The line moved quickly with several shouts of Ministry Atrium and the rhythmic flash of green fire as we all moved up the line. Shacklebolt had gone first with a selected handful of trusted lieutenants.

I watched Tavish and Lucinda step into the fireplace at their turn and I waited quietly, tapping my foot and rocking anxiously back and forth. I counted to ten before stepping forward and taking a pinch of floo powder.

The green fire was warm and practically smokeless – which made it easy for me to speak my destination.

"Ministry of Magic!"

The floo flames consumed me and my body was bounced and jostled through the connected fireplace system. It was hard to breathe in here, my eyes stayed closed and all I could do was wait for the familiar sensation of being dropped.

It came suddenly and I fell forward out of the fireplace.

This was why I rarely came to work through the floo. It was also hell on clothes and I never needed to lose a heel in the floo network. That would be nightmarish.

I opened my eyes to admire the herd of shoes before me and forced myself to my feet with a groan. I could have happily slept on any of the floors between Hogwarts and the Ministry.

The assembled Strike Team was before me, I could see Shacklebolt in conference with a few of his trusted advisors near the base of the Magic is Might statue in the fountain. I hoped removing that monstrosity and replacing it with something else would be the second or third thing on Shacklebolt's agenda.

I stepped away from the fireplace to see Lucinda and Tavish speaking to three figures in clean, plain clothes… but the way two of them were standing just screamed law enforcement to me, a kind of power and confidence that was so familiar. The third figure was Elihu.

I ran over to throw my arms around Quincy, who turned just in time to catch my flying assault, he staggered backwards, but remained standing, clutching me tightly. If I had the energy to weep, I would have.

"What the hell happened?" Quincy's voice was over my head, clear as a bell and reverberating through his chest. "Where have you been?"

"Audrey got caught in the battle at Hogwarts," Lucinda answered for me as I grabbed Quincy tighter. "From the start to the bitter end. Tavish and I came with reinforcements at Audrey's request through Tinsy. Then the three of us and the house elf crossed wands with Voldemort."

Cassandra and Quincy made disbelieving, horrified noises – Quincy squeezing me tighter. Elihu just swore, we both had a shared opinion about this war being sheer insanity.

"Glad you're alive, Audrey." I pulled away from Quincy to accept a pat on the head from Elihu, who wore a tired grin. "You look terrible."

"You look terribly well rested," I retorted. "Shacklebolt is the Minister now," I pointed at the now ex-Auror near the base of the fountain. I could not remember if Elihu had met him or not. "I'd go talk to him and drum up some goodwill."

"He better last longer than the other two." Elihu laughed, "I need tell Shacklebolt MACUSA is happy to secure Azkaban – unofficially, while he makes the arrangements with Saint Mungo's to accept patients or we can arrange our own medical team to come when it's deemed safe and the Ministry is fully reclaimed."

I knew why Elihu was going, he was going to see Valencia and get her out with the first group. I did not blame him. This situation allowed for one bit of nepotism, and getting Valencia out would quickly cool Magical America's temper.

I allowed myself a grin, it looks like Jack would not be getting his war after all.

Elihu quickly excused himself to introduce himself to Shacklebolt, who was making arrangements with people I did not recognize, or perhaps I was too tired to recognize them. Cassandra followed after him as silent as a shadow, leaving Quincy with us.

"Is it just you two with the MACUSA Aurors or are there more of you hiding around here?" Lucinda asked as she eyeballed Quincy and Cassandra, she did not have to state she believed they were too young to be the sole representatives of the MACUSA Aurors, it was all in the slight quirk of her eyebrow.

"No Madam Ainsley, we have others here already. Elihu just asked us to act as his detail." Quincy smiled, "But I'll ask to spend some time with my cousin instead, I'm not sure she's got another duel in her."

"Ya'd be surprised," Tavish quipped in my defense, his voice low as he slipped an arm over my shoulders protectively in a manner so fatherly, I was taken aback by it. "She's tougher than yer lot give'r credit fer."

Quincy seemed to take the hint to watch himself. A good-natured grin came back to his face. "Sorry Aud, you just look ready to fall over."

"I want a nap and sandwich – but overthrowing fascists is a little more important."

There was a sudden explosive noise near the Magic is Might statue, the sound of crumbling stone and free-flowing water pulled my attention to what was now the remnants of the horrible statue that had taken center stage of this regime. The carved pieces of the statue slid across the floor from the force of the blast, finding their way to corners and crannies near fireplaces, in place of the statue was an empty space in the center of the fountain, with only the shattered remnants of stone standing in a jagged pattern.

Shacklebolt stood on the edge of the fountain, looking out over the crowd with an expression of fierce resolution on his face. The crowd was silent at the gesture of power and overthrow - the destruction of the symbolic start of a reign of terror.

"We're here to reclaim this nation for the people!"

Quincy moved closer to me, there was always something bonding about history being made before one's eyes, but I had seen enough history in the last eight hours to last me a lifetime. I dreamed of a quiet life now.

"This is a day of victory to be remembered for years to come!"

There was a shadow near the staircase off the atrium. It disappeared around the corner. I blinked – I must be seeing things from exhaustion...

"We are here out of hope for a better future in the shadow of terror. To build a better future for our children that is free of prejudice and discrimination for their origins."

I could see the wraith next to the staircase.

It was draped in smoke and shadow as it leered down the stairs, its skull tilting in a manner that reminded me of a real bird. It shifted its gaze towards me, the eye sockets of the vulture skull burned with red hot coals and the white bones of his skeletal hand moved from his moss cloak to point down the stairs. The wraith moved slowly down the steps and out of my sight.

"We must preserve the records kept by these offices. Get to the archive rooms and hold the Law Enforcement Offices!"

I glanced around, Shacklebolt's voice fading to background noise as I hoped that someone else had seen the wraith as Bran had in the Undercroft, but I was alone in this once more. A part of me understood I needed to follow this creature I did not trust, that had shown a penchant for devouring human flesh in the last few hours, but... there was a bigger picture here.

"We must keep those records from being destroyed so we can ensure the innocent are set free and the guilty are prosecuted!" Shacklebolt's proclamation was met with wild cheers that rose around me like a tide, but were muffled by my intense focus on the vacant space the wraith had left behind.

There was a sudden sensation of dread and anticipation. I could not tell if it was from the wraith or from the idea that it was following someone with the ambitions of making them a second breakfast.

"Move out!"

I stepped forward, letting myself slip away from Quincy and disappear into the dispersing crowd.

Maybe I was seeing things, but I needed... I needed to see this through if what I saw was real.

"Audie?" I could hear Quincy's voice behind me, but I kept walking, picking up speed as I went, weaving and pushing through the crowd of people who were beginning to surge forward to the upper staircase and the elevator to the offices to take back full control of the government. I barely avoided being stepped on and swept away with the crowd before I broke free of the swarm.

I felt like the crowd had become a group of salmon, all flowing down the same river to the same destination while I felt like a river serpent, moving up river to see what had been left in their wake. There was freedom in breaking away from the crowd in some way. I finally had space to breathe, but only for a moment. When I reached the stairs, I looked down into the abyss, holding my breath in a quiet terror.

The face that peered up at me from the dark, hooded and cloaked, was Harrow Avery.

A horrible sense of dread, disgust and remembered horror washed over me at the brief sight of his pale, sunken face. Before I could wrap my mind around what was happening, he took off down the stairs that led to the back entrance to the basement courtrooms. The horrible echo of his footsteps was the only proof that I had seen him at all.

My knees shook, almost giving out beneath me as I forced them to carry me down the stairs. I forced myself to run down, almost slipping on the edge of one of the stairs, catching myself on the railing before beginning to run once more and a sense of rage mixing in with my terror. Something was pushing me further into the dark and I was not entirely sure if it was my own will or the wraith exerting its influence. In either case, I was not fighting too hard to escape it.

The stairs ended and left me in a dark corridor with only my own thoughts and the distant sound of footsteps that took me a moment to realize were coming from me. I was running of my own volition and a sense of purpose I was only beginning to grasp.

I could taste blood on my tongue, it mixed with the dirt on my face from the battle and I spat it onto the floor as I ran. The sound of footsteps ahead of me seemed to grow more panicked and both fainter and closer to me as I made each turn in the winding corridor. There was a faint light ahead, peering around the shadowed outline of Harrow's cloak

I burst through the doorway to reveal a grand courtroom, more magelights flickered on to light the space in a dim glow.

My spell flew into Harrow's back as he entered the room, breaking through the darkness to send him tumbling forward onto the cold stone. He hit the floor with a crashing noise that echoed through the chamber. My chest heaved with effort to breathe as I followed him into the courtroom, my wand remaining steady as I kept it pointed at Harrow. A cold sense of power falling over me. I had all the cards now. I had arrived here with the victors to find the remaining rats of a fascist regime and Harrow Avery was part of an old, dying order.

"You murdered my brother."

My chest was heavy and cold, my voice was unusually calm and echoing off the high vaulted ceiling of the courtroom like it was coming from a greater being than I could comprehend. My voice seemed to fill the room in a way I never could fill a space before, chilling, haunting and powerful. I understood what it was to be in control now, to have people cower before me when they only sought to control me previously.

It... was truly an intoxicating thing.

The empty chairs in the observation loft were only filled with silent witnesses. The judge's bench contained the wraith, looking down on the proceedings with curiosity and a solemn interest with its burning eyes. Its head tilted, the white antlers dangling with moss was a truly uncanny thing to sit in judgement.

Harrow staggered on the floor, he was writhing about to turn and face me as he looked at me with a fierce expression. His hood had fallen back to reveal his mousey brown hair and the sallow hue of his skin with the unusually pronounced cheekbones. He had lost weight.

"It's war!" Harrow spat; his brown eyes wild with rage. "People die!"

I took a step forward, then another. With each step the torches on the wall began to light themselves, giving me a better view of Harrow cowering before me.

"You buried him under the floor and left him to die. There's a difference."

My voice had no emotion. There was only a cold resolution that I understood what was needed to calm the rage inside me. I stopped only a few steps away from Harrow, my wand still trained on him the way a hunting hound points at an animal.

"Tell me why you killed him."

I was calm. I was not the person I envisioned when this moment arrived, I imagined passionate rage and death, but something inside me was hollowed out – I felt like a shell of a person, empty, scared and holding myself together by being outside of my body. It was like I was looking down on the scene of our confrontation from the judge's bench where I had seen the wraith.

Harrow laughed suddenly, "He knew too much! The Dark Lord thought he was too dangerous and I saw an opportunity to escape!"

"You did that to escape?"

"I was not a ranking Death Eater, just some lowly ally to the cause with the right blood. I thought if I could get to America, I could rally the purebloods under the banner of your brother! But he was resisting my Imperio curse and I realized it would be easier to take his place!"

My wand shook slightly in my hands as the insane scheme came together in full admittance.

"But he was beginning to figure out that I was not to be trusted. I had to poison him, preserve his corpse – "

"You didn't have the balls to look him in the eyes when you killed him."

It was twisted, but it explained why Alex had been under the floor alive. The poison did its job for Harrow and his sick purposes.

"You know, we have a saying in my family," a smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. "Sometimes justice only comes from the grave."

I lurched forward, a spell on the tip of my wand I was unsure I could name at the heat of the moment.

Harrow raised his hands in a pitiful act of self-defence, I could finally see the dark magic that had infected him. His hands were almost skeletal for how thin they were, the blackened veins on his hands moved up his wrists and arms, disappearing under his cloak. Reeking of dark magic and rot that suddenly assailed my nose as I took in the horrible sight.

I lowered my wand, the spell fading to nothing as the wraith began to prowl around the shadows of the room. It paced and watched, coming closer to the confrontation with an anticipatory hunger in its gaze.

"The wraith did that, didn't it?"

"Is that what you call it?" Harrow laughed, a sick, twisted laugh I never would have believed him capable of until the last time I had seen him. "Your brother was a powerful wizard, that monster did this to me from the time I buried him under the floor!" His eyes darted nervously around the chamber, the wraith stayed just out of Harrow's sight, slipping into shadow. Harrow's gaze settled on me, his teeth bared and hateful like a feral animal. "A monster just like you!"

Monster? Yes, yes, I was, but that fact that Harrow had the gumption to call me one finally lit the fire of rage inside me. My chest burned with it and I felt myself come back from that distant place in my mind where I had taken refuge. The rage boiled in my throat and filled my mind with the rage and clarity I so desired and despised.

"You tried to rape me while wearing his face!"

My declaration bounced off the walls and echoed through the chamber, all righteous anger and shouted fury as I finally stated the truth of the matter aloud. The sensation of Harrow's cold hands under my clothes, groping my breasts while Alex's face loomed over me was the stuff of twisted nightmares that revisited me in moments of silence in the night while I struggled to set it aside and rest. What kind of sick person would consider that? What the actual fuck had gone through Harrow's head. He was going to drug me and go through with that while in the guise of my brother!

"You were going to drug me and do what you wanted while pretending you were my brother!"

"What do you want?" Harrow scoffed. "Money for a few minutes of action because no one will want a monster like you when the world finds out what you are! It would save that wrinkled hag all the hassle of selling you off to save the house! A husband's liberties would be no different."

It would be very different. It was very different! I knew this already.

I was somewhere where the stinging truth of his words could not hurt me, or I was too tired to give them power right now.

"Justice." I moved forward, keeping my wand steady and pointed at Harrow's chest. "I want justice."

"Kill me then!" He laughed, the noise echoed off the walls and consumed the room. "Kill me and have your justice!"

Suddenly, I understood everything.

The wraith was tied to the earth and the world through Harrow, Alex had attached himself to his murderer to enact vengeance and left him with the kind of magical damage that would mark him as one touched by the Dark Arts. If I killed Harrow, I would free Alex, but condemn my own soul to wander the world as a monster in my own turn.

If I allowed Harrow to die a natural death, a death not caused by me taking his life, I would keep my soul intact. The wraith would, in theory, pass on its own. I could already feel its power draining, no longer an overbearing presence, but one of near silence as it prowled at the edges of the room.

If I killed Harrow, I would become a monster in my turn. If I left Harrow to the justice of the courts Shacklebolt promised, Alex would stay. He could torture Harrow in Azkaban until he died for all I cared, but...

Harrow wanted to die... Why would I give him anything he wanted?

I lowered my wand.

Harrow glared up at me, confused about what would happen next.

With a snap of my wrist, Harrow was bound with ropes and writhing on the floor.

"The court will decide your fate." My voice was measured and quiet, the power and control had left me, there was only the raw disgust left as I spoke. "I hope it's as merciful as you deserve."

I turned away from Harrow, towards the light where I could see Quincy staring at the scene before him with a wide-eyed horror. The way he reached out to me told me that he had heard everything I had said. I pushed my way past him, holding my own thoughts in council, ignoring the quiet way my cousin said my name.

I hoped I had made the right decision.

The angered howling screams of the wraith echoed through the courtroom in an unfathomable rage.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: And the war arc closes at last. On Valentine's Day. Grim. Sorry about that. :D