May 26 - 27, 1998

After the events of the day, returning home to walk through the things Percy and I had seen over dinner was something akin to relief. My father was grieving, but I never expected it to come from him with such violence. Jack had always seemed more publicly controlled than that, saving his temper for home. It was so strange to see a reaction akin to love from my father, I knew he cared, but the intense openness of it all after Alex died was so unsettling.

Percy and I spoke of the new administration, some open criticism of how slow we were moving tempered with our intellectual understanding of why. An hour was taken by the Umbridge trial, scheduled for some time in July. She would be the first of the major administrators to be prosecuted, the smaller trials now were for less important people who would be more likely to sing about their bosses and the small things they had seen in exchange for leniency or a chance to return to work.

We both had a glass of horribly cheap wine that I had impulse purchased last week, I thoroughly blamed it on the ability to be out in the open to do our household shopping again. Percy said nothing and just double checked the purchase record as he added it all to his account book, he was refusing to twitch, which seemed like a good sign. Granted, we had just been paid for the month of May, so he was going to be a little more flexible in what I viewed as essential for the house, and Percy would not say no to a decent cheap wine.

I flipped through the mail that had been left on the table by an owl who had interrupted our breakfast this morning. There were two letters of a personal nature for Percy, several old friends were coming back from their own time in hiding and wanting to catch up – I recognized Eddie Smith's handwriting on one of them. I was surprised to find a letter for myself in familiar loopy handwriting.

Percy took his letters, and started reading them while finishing his wine. I opened the one for me with shaking hands.

Misty and Zara had returned to Britain!

I bounced excitedly on the balls of my feet as I read onward. They were staying with one of Zara's old teammates as a short-term solution while they looked for a new flat and tried to re-establish themselves and their careers. They had spent the war with a French Goblin community, per the letter some of the goblins were cousins of Misty's who had space to share for an 'errant half-breed cousin.'

Staying in a small flat with a friend and girlfriend was going to be a tight arrangement and not a long term one... I knew someone with space to spare.

I summoned two pieces of parchment, one for Lucinda asking if she had some temporary space for two of my friends returning from wartime prosecution. I assured her they were neat, tidy, and passably good with children. They could be a real help while staying at Thornell while they got back on their feet.

The second note was a welcome back note for Misty and Zara, informing them I had been able to stay at the Ministry through most of the war and I may have a better living solution coming their way in a couple of days. There would be conditions, but the house was safe and had space. I would send along more information after discussing the matter with my great-aunt, if she said no, I was ready to help them find a place of their own.

I sent the letters off with Hermes, who was begrudging in his sudden labor and never tried to peck me. I would have sent Erebus, but he was asleep and had only the magical enhanced night vision of an American messenger bird. I was sure Erebus was pretending to be asleep, but that was not the point of the matter.

It was the mark of a real beginning to a normal life - having friends, talking walks outside without worrying about being murdered in the dark, a mostly functional job.

The crushing weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders and it felt like magic.

Percy and I ambled our way to bed a couple of hours after answering the mail. A good night's sleep was well earned after the chaos of the day.

It was a natural thing to fall into the more personal talks in our bedroom. I flipped through my collection of nightgowns in the dresser drawer I had claimed for my own as I debated which of the four to wear – it was really a matter of which would be easier to tempt Percy with in the morning, it kept my eyes off him as he meticulously popped open the buttons of his shirt before pulling it over his head with a weary sort of noise as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you think what your father said today was true?"

I glanced back at the drawer, pulling out a lovely burgundy nightgown I had bought some time ago that was tight around the bust, but silky and pretty which pleases me and does the most excellent things for my bosom.

"You'll have to be more specific. Jack says a lot of things that could be true – he's not much of a liar."

"About how the Ministry only exists now because he allows it. Do you think that carries any weight?"

I undressed quickly, popping open the buttons on my robes and beginning work on my skirt and hose that I was still wearing from work. I could feel Percy looking me quietly as I removed the last of my clothing and pulled my nightgown over my head.

I paused, biting my lower lip slightly. "Jack has as much power as he believes he has; the world seems to bend itself to what he desires."

"Do you think he has real power in the Avery matter?" Percy was pulling back the covers of the bed an arranging the pillows the way we liked after fluffing them.

"I... I am not sure." I climbed into bed and pulled the covers upwards, patting the bed next to me to wordlessly welcome Percy into it as I continued to collect my thoughts. Avery is in Azkaban, he's in British citizen in British custody – there is nothing that can be been legally or otherwise. Jack finally met an opponent he could not bend – International law."

Percy chuckled dryly at the statement as he climbed into bed next to me and laid back, I followed his lead and rested my head against his shoulder. "If only all people could be so impeded."

"Reasonable people can be." I sighed quietly. "Please be careful with him Percy, I think he really likes you."

Percy shuddered. I think Percy would have coped better with a potential father-in-law with political power who hated him – the fact that Jack liked him could be very unsettling for everything we were both probably expecting form this dynamic.

We found ourselves under the covers, relaxed and content, hands entwined and Percy resting his head against mine. There was something comfortable and staying in all of this, I would not find anything else, anyone else, this was it for me and that did not feel scary. It was natural and everything I could have ever thought I wanted.

I opened my eyes, feeling watched in a way I had not in weeks. Perhaps the exhaustion had kept me from seeing the manifestation of the wraith in full, my tired body putting me in a state to rest as his hold on the world, on me, seemed to weaken.

But it was here now, lurking in the shadowed corners of our bedroom.

I refused to engage with this nonsense – if he wanted to pick on someone, he could go back to Azkaban to harass Harrow.

The wraith tilted its vulture skull face, the antlers emerging from its brow creating even stranger shapes on the wall before it slipped into shadow.

Despite my apathy for its arrival, I could not suppress a sudden chill from the way it disappeared. My eyes moved quickly around the room, struggling to discern where it could have gone. My heart hammered in my chest with a sick dread that echoed in my ears. The written memories of my family in the grimoire flashed through my head, one took prominence at the forefront. My father's recollection of how the wraith he had seen was cannibalizing a man.

I stayed still, Percy was snoring quietly beside me. I turned towards him as something moved from the corner of my eye, making it look like an idle turn of sleep as my eyes slightly open. The shadows beyond Percy warped and twisted for a moment before returning to their untouched state. I exhaled the breath I did not know I had been holding.

The heavy tapping of bones came from above.

My heart stopped in my chest. My eyes flew open to take in what I knew to be hovering over our bed.

The wraith was emerging from the ceiling, his white bone fingers clinking together as the beak clicked in a haunting harmony. The strands of the moss robe dangled inches from Percy's face, swaying slightly from the breath of his snoring. The bone fingers reached downwards towards his throat, the antlers coming down towards the pillow as the beak moved towards his neck.

I yelped in sudden horror, grabbing my wand from my bedside table and firing my patronus charm with such force the wraith was knocked into the wall and disappeared into shadow in an instant.

Percy sat up in bed with a shout, looking over at me as I sat next to him holding my wand outward and then my crow patronus which was standing on the floor and tilting its head inquisitively at the wall where the wraith had disappeared.

"Are you okay?" Percy reached out to take my wrist in his hand, his hands were warm for once, lowering my wand as I caught my breath. The patronus disappeared in a flash of silver light. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"Yes." I put my head on Percy's shoulder and breathed in the warm scent of old parchment and cut grass that was distinctly Percy and felt the tension leave my body. The wraith was not here anymore, but I could still hear it clicking the beak and see the glowing embers of its eyes as it looked at Percy like... well, like a snack.

"Just a nightmare. I'm sorry for waking you."

Percy sighed and put his arm over my shoulders to guide me back into the bed. My head stayed on laid back in bed, the moonlight catching his brilliant red hair as he settled back in. I followed his lead, pulling the covers up around me a bit further, curling into Percy and closing my eyes again.

I had questions – questions I would have to ask in the near future, but I knew the wraith would not return tonight. It was not an easy thing to drift off after terror, but Percy's quiet snoring and muttering lulled me into a sense of safety for the next couple of hours until he had to rouse himself to go for a run with Oliver.

A few minutes after Percy left at his unholy hour, I got out of bed to make coffee, leaving the bed felt like a relief after the horrible night. The warm drink forced my brain to work and decipher all that had occurred. The wraith was torturing Harrow in Azkaban, it seemed happy to do so, but it had come to visit me. Why? Was Harrow dying? I heard no reports in the last couple of days regarding prisoner health in Azkaban, Shacklebolt had an interest in such matters because of his limited understanding of public perception.

I watched the clock tick as I read yesterday's paper. I would not be in the flat to receive the new one today... I was due to meet my father for a morning coffee.

Jack and I had a previous agreement on finding a local café for when he was in London, this would be our first attempt at the project and I had a place in mind that had just reopened.

As Percy came in the door, I was putting on my cloak and shoes – kissing him quickly as he bent down towards me and reminding him that I was going out for coffee with my father. Percy said something about a shower and he had come back with a couple of croissants from the American run bakery a couple blocks up the road. Which sounded like an excellent breakfast for tomorrow.

I made it out of the building and to the apparition point with the purple rat graffiti, putting my focus on the destination marker for Diagon Alley, letting the sensation of being sucked away and squeezed like an overripe fruit overtake me for a moment before being dropped unceremoniously to the stone ground behind the Leaky Cauldron. I brushed off my cloak and made my way to the front door of the Leaky Cauldron to find my father cutting an imposing figure as he spoke with Tom the Barman in the dim light of the pub.

Jack turned towards me, his expression warming as he bid a quick farewell to Tom and stepped towards me with open arms. I hugged him back, because I knew it was something he needed that I was not sure he would ever voice, a kind of unspoken fatherly need to hold his child. He smelled like the library at the Byrgen House, old wood and parchment paper. It was comfortable and familiar, like being a child again.

Before anything could be said beyond the perfunctory greetings, Jack had whisked me out the door, asking questions about if I had been eating enough, if there was anything exciting in my life - a couple of simple yes and no questions to start the morning as the streets of Diagon Alley opened before us.

It was quiet this morning, just shopkeepers opening the blinds to their shops, turning signs from closed to open with the clatter of wood. Security spells were being lifted as we walked down the street, trailed by two men who my father mutters were plain clothes Aurors for his protection. We were not going too far into the district, the cafe was on a side street past the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which sat sadly empty.

I passed by with nary a glance, my father had glanced over with interest as we passed.

George had not been doing well since Fred's death. He had been in and out of the shop in short bursts, unable to stay and had moved out to live on and off with his parents and staying out with friends. I was not sure George knew how to be alone and that only added to the tragedy of it all. The shop was in disarray, with a mess inside that could be seen through broken windows and burn scars on the side of the building.

The cafe was called 'Secret Snidget', it was a small café with an upper floor, giving my father and the Aurors behind him a little more privacy. The clock on the wall chimed seven times to mark the top of the hour as we walked in, cafes did not tend to open this early, but my father and I had intensive jobs, I was willing to leave my bed early to see him after the events of yesterday. The barista seemed shocked at four people coming in a few minutes after opening time, fumbling with a pastry as he realized the customers were real and not a result of a lack of sleep.

We got our drinks and I led the way up the wooden staircase to a table in the back near a window. This upper floor had an array of plants in the corners of the sitting area with walls defined by brick and wood, a homey, comfortable vibe that Percy and I liked. He thought they had passable tea so I could talk him into coming back on that line if he was able to see the state of the twins' old shop.

It was awkward being with my father in public, I could see the Aurors who had set themselves up in a corner with their darting eyes and their nurturing grasp on their own mugs of coffee. I was sure one was Mankiller, he stood a little too straight and was a bit too focused on the front door. I could not wager a guess on who the other Auror was – maybe Jenkins, he was trying to chat and look relaxed.

I looked at Jack who was sipping the black coffee he had been served with a satisfied sort of smile. The coffee in this country was good, but it was something I had to go out and look for and not expect others to have. There was something peaceful in this, a kind of formal setting aside of our issues that had not been brought about by loss.

The conversation drifted to things at home, Annie's latest mischief involving a dissected frog in her potions class. How things were going at the embassy, what exactly Elihu was doing now that he had to return to public affairs where he had to be passably nice to people who were clearly out of their depth. The time was passing pleasurably – an elderly couple had come up the stairs to sit in another corner.

"How's Percy doing?" Jack leaned forward at the table with a look of expectation and a raised brow.

"Percy's fine, dad. He sends his regards."

Percy sent no regards, but lying was polite at times.

"Good, bring him along sometime. I suspect I should get to know him better."

I suppressed a sigh, my suspicions about Jack liking my boyfriend were confirmed. He was at least interested enough to talk to Percy and get a better read on him then just going through the files MACUSA had made of him. Really, it was all very silly.

It was a hard choice to make, to unwind my tongue and open the door for a strange question about a story I was sure I had no business knowing.

"Dad?"

"Audrey?"

I took a deep breath, "Alex gave me his copy of the grimoire last year, and you tell a story in it about seeing something called a wraith." There was a dark sort of expression in Jack's eyes, "I was hoping you could tell me more about that?"

Jack took another sip of coffee and leaned back in his seat slightly, "People don't usually believe those stories, most people can't see them or find the idea too out of their reality."

"But we're Graves. We keep records."

Jack nodded, his smile both grim and paternal. "I was not an Auror for long, if I hadn't messed up my back in the fall I would have stayed on longer. Might have gone into dark magic research - I was considering it at the time." His voice dropped and I had to lean forward to hear him. "I recorded that experience as I remember it. We don't know a lot about wraiths, some scholars think there might be different types in a broader category under human spirit imprints. I have had my own theories over the years."

I nodded slowly.

"I think they're elemental spirits - something close anyway. They're so different between places like Scotland and America, something similar but made different by the world that formed them and what or who they latch onto. I have no desire to see one again."

"Yeah, I can understand why." My eyes traced a shadow on the wall that was deforming itself into a shape that did not align with the wood and stone decor of the cafe. I watched a tea kettle at a nearby table pour more tea into the cups of the older couple who sat there. Ignoring the thing was safer.

There was something in the quirk of Jack's expression, as if he were reading between the lines of my off the cuff comment instead of taking it as the mere small talk I meant it as.

"Don't say you have the Sight; I've had you tested."

That did make me laugh - I had a vague recollection of the Sight test as a child, it was a guessing game for drawn cards and a few small toys with different enchantments on them, the examiner wanted to see if I could see any of the enchantments or magical remnants on the toys. The prognosis was I had about as much Sight as a brick - I would get through a class on Divination, but there would be no practical use in the art for me in any capacity.

"So…" Jack paused and took another drink of coffee, seeming to prepare himself for another topic of conversation.

If my father was choosing his words with me, the topic must be awkward. If he asks about Percy, I'm going to lie.

"Are you going to stay with the Ministry?"

I was honestly expecting worse.

"For a while, it's a pay check and I'm waiting for things to settle down before I move on." I stirred my half-drunk coffee slowly, "Lucinda's opened an orphanage and I have a standing offer to come work with her once the papers are filed for a legitimate charity service. Lucinda wants some Ministry money to help with the general costs, but the whole plan is very self-sufficient."

"That's only right, the Ministry allowed that mess to go on - let them pay for some of the clean-up."

"Out of the funds of rich purebloods who benefited from the takeover." Avery and Yaxley's families had some money before the fall of the Ministry and accrued more during the war. It seemed fair. "They don't need to keep what they've misused."

My father nodded in agreement, a slight smile on his face. It was strange to be fully in agreement with my father on something, but perhaps my time in the Ministry during the war had made me harder in a few ways.

"What do you think of the Avery matter?" There was a slightly tilt to my father's expression, something dark, a moment of enragement that passed as quickly as it seemed to arrive - as if I had merely imagined it.

I needed to choose my words carefully, I had seen how closely Jack had been wandering to the edge of his emotional capacity probably since Alex's funeral. I was not going to provoke him to action with the truth of my opinions.

"Harrow deserves the worst of what the Ministry can offer."

Jack leaned forward slightly as if he would receive government secrets that could offer him comfort. "What of Azkaban? Is it still the horrible place Weathers wrote of in his reports?"

"It's dark, musky and even with the dementors gone, the place still reeks of misery. There are remnants of the dementors power all over the place and it is very hard to get through some of the corridors because of the emotional weight left behind by centuries of inhabitants. Avery will keep his life, but he will spend it in misery and squalor. That is the punishment he will receive for the new administration I fought for."

My father leaned back slightly, thoughtful and furrow browed. He wanted to say something, but seemed to think the better of it.

"And you believe this... passivity... is what you fought for?"

"No, I fought for fair trials and justice. I fought because Voldemort was a monster and I could not sit back and allow people to be murdered for being Seeds, or pulled off the street for perceived slights against the false administration. There is nothing passive about putting value on a life – the British state has killed enough of their own citizens. Shacklebolt wants to rebuild the trust of the people and that means his political career will be different from yours. He's not holding influence; he needs to gain it on the job."

There was something thoughtful and a bit taken aback in Jack's expression, as if he were seeing me with new eyes. I would come to realize later, that this was the conversation that would move me from not just a daughter, but a private political counsellor for my father in the years to come. It would be a strange place to be, but politics was always how Jack and I bonded, it was more of natural extension of our overall relationship.

"I heard Avery was saying something about your foreign language skills."

I froze, knowing what he was implying. It took me a moment to collect myself and go back to looking natural and relaxed.

Jack's voice lowered, "This does not need to risk being part of the public record at his trial. You know he'll state it to try and get out of Azkaban while diminishing your word in the process."

"I am aware, but who would believe him?"

"A nation with an intense prejudice."

Yes, we both agreed on the prejudice issue.

"Avery has been screaming about it for weeks now," I wondered how much I should say, but I pressed onwards. "I was asked during my interview with the Minister and his new Department Heads for the restructuring. I managed to convince them that all Avery wanted was to besmirch my good name."

Jack nodded slowly, "But now it's in the back of their minds."

I paused, yes, that would be the case. Words left scars, even if they were believed to be a falsehood – they tended to cast shadows.

"Be careful – not for me, not for MACUSA, but for yourself if you are going to stay here. Do not be painted with that brush here, because when this country begins to look for a scapegoat for their next dark wizard, it won't be their new golden boy. It will be the foreigner with political reach."

I knew this well, but nodded in agreement, allowing the paternal guidance to comfort my father now that I was staying in a country out of the reach of his protection.

He had nothing else to add to that conversation and we moved onto other things, Jack tried to explain Quidditch to me when I could not recall the term for the players with the sticks. Beaters. They have bats. He professed relief I was not athletic after that fumble and we switched to out preferred sport of Quadpot. Discussing the potential for our home state team to go all the way to the top this year. The New York Yonkers, or just Yonkers, were building a very strong team after the tryouts for the first and second string – A team with all of their fingers seemed like a tell for an inexperienced team, but we would have to wait and see.

We finished our coffee and gathered out things to leave, fastening cloaks and taking those final sips from the final dredges of the mug. We were very bad coffee hounds, caffeine for us was the equivalent of ambrosia for the gods. If I could get Percy to tolerate coffee or into once fancy café coffee maybe he would be open to coming out socially with my father and I... No. If Percy drank coffee, Jack would only like him more and Percy would never tolerate that.

My father and I took the stairs back down to the ground floor and stepped out of the café, followed by the plainclothes Aurors who kept a respectable, subtle distance. The bell over the café door jangled as we all stepped outside into the warming streets. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Jack took my face in my hands, his thumbs moving over the apples of my cheeks as he smiled down at me.

"I don't quite know how you turned out like this, but I am very proud of you. Take care, I'll see you next time I'm in town." He kissed the top of my head and stepped away, motioning for the plain clothes Aurors to follow him.

The three men disappeared into the growing crowd of Diagon Alley and I was left with a sense of warmth and comfort. Jack and I may never be the closest of father-daughter relationships, but the mutual trust we were building would be more than enough.

I put my hands in my pockets and decided to pick up a small breakfast at work.

Oo0Oo0

June 1, 1998

The days after my father's visit to the Minister's Office passed with a sort of resigned silence, peppered with word of negotiation with MACUSA that Percy passed to me over our shared lunch times. It seemed to be going well, Elihu had proven himself to be a skilled, sociable negotiator who was holding firm with Jack's conditions while charming the Minister and his advisors. Elihu was truly the man for the moment in this situation, I imagined he would be staying in Britain for the foreseeable future. I was not sure Shacklebolt would deal with anyone else from MACUSA.

Percy and I spent the weekend at home going through the papers as I offered counsel on my father's internal cabinet of advisors – which included a very prominent lawyer with a background in international policies. There was going to be a massive discussion on the matter of Harrow Avery come Monday morning and talking down my still angry, grieving father was going to be an act of logic and... well, offering Jack something better than Avery's head.

When the fateful morning came, Percy and I arrived together at the office, exchanging papers as we stepped inside, looking very much like close coworkers who understood what kind of day we were going to have. Shacklebolt was already pacing down the length of the office, into his own and back out again, mumbling to himself as he practiced a small speech to plead his own case to the reasonable members of MACUSA's party and the moderates who sat in the Wizengamot.

There was a rush of greetings and a flurry of activity as the Minister awaited his Auror escort to go to the courtroom. MACUSA's demand for this was insane, and Shacklebolt understood that for my father, it was coming from a place of grief. Percy was sorting papers to go down with the Minister – readjusting the order while I checked his preferred inkwells and quickly sharpened his quills with a quick stroke of my wand.

The door opened to reveal the Auror escort, clad in the red robes of his office. There were dark shadows under his eyes and a barely restrained calm in his expression.

"There you are Fagan," Kingsley's smile was warm and confident. "Ready to sort this last MACUSA request?"

"Minister," Auror Fagan said slowly, taking a deep breath to collect himself. "I don't believe you need to concern yourself over the Avery matter any further."

The inkwell I was holding slipped from my hands, leaving a black stain on the floor.

Harrow Avery's death in Azkaban was suspicious since the dementors were no longer housed in Azkaban. The autopsy had shown no marks. No signs of poison. Some said he had died of stress. Others that he had killed himself somehow.

I knew the truth.

So did the Minister.

Even if we did not know the how of it all.

While there was no physical proof of my father's involvement, the circumstances all lined up a little too well. Harrow being the admitted murderer of the child of a MACUSA President, the core purpose of my father's visit and the support that was offered to Britain. Anyone in the office that day would have reasonable suspicion, but MACUSA locked down tightly on everyone's whereabouts, stating that my father had been in his quarters at the Embassy working or meeting with internal officials on site. That no one had left the building after eight in the evening and stated that they did not answer to states with such low security who were looking for someone to blame in regards to the death of a criminal.

Harrow Avery had many enemies from his time during the war – for his value of his own life over service to Voldemort and the power he had taken at the Ministry as a rich patron of support to the New World Order. To be frank, MACUSA was the easier target of blame, but there were too many other doubts in play for a public accusation.

Publicly, for the record, Harrow Avery's death was attributed to one of his many enemies and the Ministry made half-hearted efforts to provide something more definitive and not more politically damaging than the truth. That Harrow Avery's death in Azkaban's custody was both an act of personal vengeance and a warning to the fledgling administration about how fragile they were without MACUSA's support.

Your Ministry is weak. Fall in line. I have enough reach to be your best friend or worst enemy.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had survived his first dealing with my father, and hopefully he had learned something from the experience. Shacklebolt was entitled to his faith in the people, he understood war and if he wanted to rise above the global stain of Britain allowing a monster to take full control of the government, Shacklebolt would have to prove his people were strong. Able to take care of themselves and pursue justice and hold their own definition of it on their terms.

President Graves had outmanoeuvred Minister Shacklebolt, and this would be Shacklebolt's first lesson in international politics. A restructuring government was a weak one – and that other nations did not share his views or good intentions.

That, for some nations, the scales of justice always answered to its sword.

I handed my resignation to the Minister's Office at the end of the day when all the fuss about Harrow Avery's death in custody had faded to paperwork. I understood that even with good intentions, I could no longer stay with the Ministry. As I explained to Shacklebolt, my presence after this disaster made him and his administration look weak, the people who knew who I was, whose daughter I was, would now speak their opinions of me being a spy for my father and MACUSA by extension. The whispers would turn to roars and threaten to destabilize this new, delicate administration.

Shacklebolt needed that perspective explained to him – international politics was a new field for him. Percy was wide eyed and ready to tell me what he thought of the matter to encourage me to stay, but this had all been laid before me clearly. I recommended Susanna Waldrope to come cover the office or recommend one of her more trusted clerks. I knew Susanna could be discreet and would be able to get along with Percy.

My career in politics was over.

I had very little to pack at my desk. Just some odds and ends I had brought in to make my work more efficient, I was taking those with me. I knew where I was going to be needed.

Percy was kind enough to walk me out, carrying my meagre box of supplies with a degree of insistence I'm sure Shacklebolt found overly polite and chivalrous for the situation.

I handed in my badge and deregistered my wand at the front desk of the Atrium with Percy at my side. The Atrium itself was mostly empty and only had a few people milling around near the fireplaces, others openly heading towards the elevator.

"Are you taking the floo or the apparition point?" Percy asked as he adjusted his hold on my box.

"Apparition point. I'll take the box if you want?"

"No, no, I'll walk you over." Percy flashed a quick grin that made me a little weak at the knees before we left for the guest entryway. The phonebooth came down, Percy let me step inside first and I understood this was a quick bid for privacy.

It was raining in London – a common occurrence, but Percy and I had no complaints about it. We were alone together, publicly and it felt so safe. We turned the corner to the apparition point and Percy handed me the box. I popped up onto my toes and kissed him on the cheek quickly.

"I'll see you at home."

Percy nodded and I was suddenly encased in the tight, spinning sensation of apparition.

When I could breathe again, I found myself in front of the gates of Thornell, the figures of Misty and Zara running forward to meet me at the gate from where they had set up a picnic with some of the children who were admiring the broom Zara had left behind in rush to follow Misty towards me.

"Audie!"

"I missed you both so much!"

The sun peered through the clouds as the three of us squealed at being reunited again as we hugged one another. When we parted, I could see Lucinda and Tavish up the path, looking outwards at us at the sudden commotion.

Yes, this was what I fought for. A peaceful life.

I had to explain that I had just quit the Ministry without notice due to my suspicions of MACUSA's involvement with the death Harrow Avery. The news left Lucinda aghast, her hands flying upwards to her mouth in a very, un-Lucinda manner, her glasses sliding down her nose. The understanding of this impact was as immediate to her as it was to me. Tavish wore a carefully guarded expression as I quickly filled in Misty and Zara on the Avery matter, getting some satisfaction at their mutual incredulous expressions.

"I agree. Avery's enemies are on the run or trying to preserve what they have – they don't have the power or skill to get into Azkaban." Lucinda's tones were quiet and measured, a kind of serene peace in her expression. She would no longer have to worry over losing Thornell to Averys, with Harrow dead, the last of the family's power was severed.

It was cold, but I could not find the ability for sympathy or pity, I wondered for a moment if that made me the monster Harrow claimed I was? But the monster of my life was dead now, and I was alive. Sparing him further thought would only ruin my day.

I stayed at Thornell for a couple of hours, checking on the arrangements in the house for Misty and Zara, they had a nice room on the top floor that had been converted from a parlor. It was private and had newspaper adverts for jobs and flats laying on a center table, a couple of small bags of clothes half unpacked in the corner. Zara had an offer to return to the Holyhead Harpies for the next season, but there were still papers to sign and official clearances to cover. The two of them still did not have access to Gringotts, meaning their bank accounts were frozen until further notice in any case. I could not comprehend that sort of nightmare and made a note to see if Percy knew who to get in touch with to fix that, he would be stunned that that had not been fixed in full.

There were a couple of hours of visitation, I was going to meet Percy at home with a new bottle of wine from Lucinda from a harvest within the previous decade, and a stray comment that she had been unable to find all of those knives that she was missing from around Thronell, a sheepish looking Tinsy was peeking around the corner. That... explained the endless supply of weapons on Tinsy's person during the Battle of Hogwarts, she was pulling them out of the drawer as a sort of complex magic.

I said nothing, blaming the sheer number of people in the house requiring more use of the cutlery. This seemed to satisfy Lucinda and relieve Tinsy, her tiny body sagging in relief.

As I left, there were more hugs from the three Carter girls, my family, my returned friends along with Barry and Tinsy, who had wrapped themselves around my legs, Barry dropping fruit into my large robe pockets as covertly as he could manage.

I detangled myself, promising Lucinda I would return Monday to help her plan for the next several months of donation chasing for the facility, we had to send these children off to school after all.

The gate clicked behind me and the tightening of apparition sucked me away, dropping me next to the purple rat. From there I half danced into the apartment building, past the doorman, a man of subtle, if sleepy, character. I was free of the Ministry. I could do something different and directly help people, I no longer had to look around and relive the horrors of the early days of the takeover.

Percy was fiddling with the key to the flat as I came up, launching myself into his arms, half pushing him into the wall.

"If you ever want out of the Ministry, let me know."

"Unlikely," Percy laughed quietly in my ear, the frames of his glasses pressing against my face. "You like the gossip too much."

"I could say the same of you." I put myself back on the ground and pulled out the bottle of wine Lucinda had given us. "Lucinda says it's for a special occasion."

Percy opened the door and motioned me inside, "Won't take long for that."

We talked over dinner, plans for my final paycheck, what Lucinda's plans were for gathering donations for the orphanage. Percy was giving me updates of things that happened in the two hours I was away from the Ministry. I had not missed much, but Shacklebolt was very annoyed by the sudden change in staff – I wondered if I could pick up contract hours with the Embassy when things were less busy at Thornell? I would have to propose the idea to Elihu next week, I was sure Valencia was going to be his speech writer if he had to make any going forward, but she had her own business and the Embassy was a big place.

I would worry about that later.

For now, I was going to enjoy this quiet evening with no real plans aside from Percy and I milling around the living room while the radio played one of the Friday night news segments.

I would ignore the shadows that crept along the wall, watching the two of us in a blatant, predatory way.

The clock struck eleven and the two of us were trying not to yawn too openly, it had been some sort of day – mostly a mess, but I was hoping that would be the last one we would have to bring home that way. We were entitled to some peace and quiet. I liked a little chaos, but my patience for it had run dry some time ago.

Soon, we were snuggled up into bed. Percy's breathing lapsing into quiet snores were lulling me into sleep that was reaching up to take me into the silent void.

My sleep was plagued with the smell of death and rot, the comforting scents of home washed away in the stench of death and rot, grave dirt that came from beneath the floor where my brother had been unceremoniously buried. It came upon me gagging my throat and holding me hostage to the rawness of memory.

I clawed at invisible hands at my throat, my voice muffled and held still in the muggy swamp that I could feel around me.

'Your murderer is dead! Don't think we never loved you!'

The thoughts flew from me in a scream that exploded from me, reshaping the world around me to a state of something strange and new. The pressure on my neck lessened and disappeared, dropping me to my knees with a resounding thump and a panicked gasp and air flowed into my body once more.

I caressed my throat as I looked upwards, expecting the swamp with old trees and tangled roots but was surprised by what I saw instead.

A golden field where there were no trees and old the scent of pollen, grass and the fresh new world. It glowed from the light above and seemed to be untouched by the darkness and dread that had colored my previous dreams of the wraith. The decay stench had left entirely and the grass tickled my skin where it touched. I rose to my feet and looked outward into the endless plain of golden grass.

Only a few yards in front of me in the golden field was the wraith. The white bones of its skull reflected from the light above. To see it in the light was unnatural, I could see the curves of the skull and the full shadows of its moss cloak – I was looking at something I was not supposed to see, something so cripplingly intimate and wrong I had to look away for a moment until some force pulled my attention back. I froze as the vulture skull tilted upwards, the shadows of the moss robe that covered its frame and the strands entwined in the antlers that adored its brow like an unnatural crown began to burn away. The moss turned to ember and fire, smoke to ash. The wraith was burned away, disappearing in the concentrated fire as the smell of petrichor consumed my senses despite the lack of rain.

The antlers fell away, shed as if it were the end of the rutting season, the bone shattering as they fell to the ground below.

Human hands reached out of the swirling mass of ash and smoke to pull away the vulture skull. The hands now made of flesh and covered in skin.

My breath stopped; my heart squeezed wildly in my chest.

Alex's white-gray hair matched the vulture skull in his hands. He breathed in, his chest swelling from the depth of the air he was taking in. It left him in a quiet, long, sigh.

His face was as I remembered it, handsome and sturdy with a strong nose and serious gray eyes. He looked like our father, except for his eyes which were all his own.

My feet moved on their own, rushing forward through the grass that sought to impede me. I was screaming his name but even as I ran, but brother was no closer. I was going nowhere. I wanted to hold him again!

There was a figure behind him that pulled my memories, beautiful like the painting Lucinda had in her office with the long blonde hair and large deep blue eyes.

MOM!

I had to get there! Why couldn't I get there? I was going absolutely nowhere! They were speaking and I could not hear them. Alex had taken her hand and a part of me knew what that meant – something instinctive and primal told me how this would end but I could not listen to it when they were so close!

I stopped, out of breath from the run and my chest heaving and gasping for air, unable to go any further.

Alex turned towards me and smiled, his expression peaceful and serene as the light caught his paling hair. The light behind him already consuming our mother.

Thank you...

With those unspoken words, he faded into the light, leaving only the golden grass and the smell of incoming rain behind.

I woke up with a start, sitting up in bed as a waterfall of heavy silent tears ran down my cheeks.

There was a sense of peace. The wraith had left me and I knew it would never return. I wiped the tears from my face and muffled a quiet cry into my hand.

Percy turned towards me, his hand reaching for me and finding my thigh as he fumbled around for me in the dark.

"Aud?" He was still half asleep and I suddenly felt terrible for waking him from the first peaceful sleep he had in a couple of days. Percy shifted slightly to sit up and put an arm over my shoulders to pull me into a side hug as he tucked me against him. "You okay?"

I nodded, my eyes still wet and the smell of purifying rain flowing through my senses.

"Yes, I'm alright." I reached up to wipe my eyes. "I'm happy. That's all."

I did not have to look at Percy to know he was wearing a disbelieving stare. He adjusted his hold on me slightly, encouraging me to lay back down. My head was on his chest, listening to the sound of heat under my ear as his fingers worked slowly through my hair.

The world was not perfect, it never would be, but we were here and that made our little sliver of the world absolutely perfect.

"I love you." My voice was low and the words were spoken into his skin with a quiet contentment.

"I love you too."

All was right with the world.

This chapter of my life had come to an end, and I was deeply looking forward to the next.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Notes: This author needs to confess that she does not dream and all dream sequences are not based on personal experience of any sort. I have one dream a year I know about.

Yes, Jack canonically checks all his children for the Sight - it affects the kind of magic a family can use to hide things in the house depending on how it manifests. That is not uncommon in the states, it's also a personal callback to a story my father tells about being tested for psychic abilities at his Catholic school in the 60s. I come from a long line of people who have had really strange lives – yes, that does come up in my work. It's cheaper than therapy.

Posted alongside this chapter is the Extended Epilogue under the title 'Hope is the Thing with Feathers' – Audrey meets the Weasleys essentially. It's a happier, less political vibe than this story.

The final chapter is a bit of a further future than HitTwF, I'll post the One for Sorrow Chapter 100 once the five chapters of Hope are completed – I know what it looks like in my head, but I'm debating some aspects of it and am reluctant to canonize anything I may backtrack on over the summer.