The Truth Behind the Veil ✔️

The End (Bonus Chapter 2)

      Running a hand through her hair, Fawn turned away to catch the tail-end of a joking argument between Ron and Hermione.

      "Lost in your mind again?"

      Fawn hummed, answering James Potter's question distractedly as he'd strolled away from a conversation with Sirius and Remus.

      "You can't change the past," he reminded her gently. "Not again at least."

      Releasing a frustrated sigh the twenty-two year-old nodded. She knew that. It was all anyone told her since she'd come back to her original timeline. It didn't help.

      Six years had passed and yet survivor's guilt stalked her like a toxic ex boyfriend. Three people had died so that countless others could live. Who was she to play the part of God? To try and change people's fates while sacrificing others? Peter and Regulus died heroes but at what cost?

      Whenever she explained this thought, she would be swiftly reminded that The Veil chose her, not the other way around. She did what she could with the information she had. Those around her made choices that were completely out of her control. She was not playing God, she was simply a pawn for the universe to restore the natural order.

      She would never understand why she of all people was chosen. Frankly she didn't want to. It would only make her guilt and perpetual anxiety worse.

      "I know," she mumbled.

      James gave her a soft, sad smile and squeezed her shoulder like a father would in an attempt to comfort his daughter.

      "I'm going to tell Sawyer."

      The older man nodded, adjusting his glasses slightly as they slipped down the bridge of his nose.

      "Do you think that's a good idea?" Fawn asked, anxiety plaguing her once again.     

      "It's your decision, Fawn. You have more wisdom about these things than any of us do. I know you'll do the right thing."

      "He's not Regulus." An utterance she hated to admit.

      "He doesn't have to be."

      "I know." 

      The boy with dark brown, shaggy hair, tanned skin and stormy eyes watched her a few meters away while pretending to be engaged with his friends. He worried about her. He always was worried about her. The admittance of two simple words a few minutes earlier had left his mind spinning and he wished desperately to know more about her experience.

      It was no secret that Fawn had a past. There was something haunted about her eyes, a faded quality to them. She'd seen things. Scars, now old white lines, covered her face. She never spoke of it. But sometimes, she would look at the Marauders a little too long with a grief-stricken expression. Sometimes, Sawyer would make a sarcastic quip or touch her in a certain way and he could swear he saw her eyes well up with unshed tears. She spoke passionately about the war and the people involved as though she'd been there.

      Hermione once had off-handedly mentioned that Fawn acted as though she was from a different time. The girl meant nothing by it, simply an observation of hers that she was keen to do, being the brightest witch of her age and all. Sawyer never forgot it though.

      And now, when joking about her being there, Fawn has admitted with a whisper so full of pain that it could not be faked, that she had been. He loved her in spite of all of it.

      "That's why I love him," Fawn finished after a long pause. "I always will."

      It wasn't until hours later, the Potter home dark and quiet, a candle flickering calmly between them that they could freely discuss the truth.

      Three in the morning; witching hour, was when the truth came out. It was fitting. Tears spilled from both of them and Fawn finally spoke of the horrors, of the love, of everything she had been through.

      Sawyer stayed calm, holding her gently as she convulsed, the trauma taking control.

      Laughter bubbled up as stories about Sirius and James drunkenly dancing on tables in the Common Room after Quidditch matches came out for the first time in nearly a decade. She whispered, scared to disturb the air around them as she spoke about a brave young man who'd died to save the world, a boy she'd fallen in love with, a boy who was 1st cousins once removed to the man currently cradling her. Her voice was firm and proud when discussing how Ted and Andromeda Tonks had come to her defense when standing up to Dumbledore during the first horcrux discussion. Many didnt know that Sawyer and Nymphadora's parents had played any role in the war and Fawn wanted them to know that their parents were so important to the cause as well.

      Basilisk fangs and poisoned potions flowed from her memory for the first time in years. A locket, cup, diadem, journal and two rings now destroyed came to light for the final time. The crow who convinced her to live again flew across the room.

      Harry Potter and his mumbling of the killing curse. Peter Pettigrew, the traitor, the rat, dead for his best friend's sake. Marlene McKinnon, badass and amazing friend, dead at the hands of death-eaters with goals larger than spilling half-blood blood. Bellatrix Lestrange, sadistic, sociopathic, a fire in her eyes and cruelty in her laughter, obsessed with her Lord and sick with bloodlust.

      So much more unable to be concisely put to words here exploded in the Potter living room, the couch warm and soft, a light breeze floating through an open window, a neighbor's cat watching them with wide, curious, golden eyes, its black silhouette only made out due to an early adjustment to the darkness around them.

      Sawyer took it all with grace. Of course it was overwhelming and he ached with grief for the girl he'd grown to love over the years, but he knew a dramatic reaction would not be helpful to her at this moment.

      When she finally finished, her face wet with tears from years ago, Sawyer wiped them away gently, kissing her forehead and scars with a feather-light touch. "Thank you for telling me," he whispered, his voice husky with unreleased emotion.

      Fawn smiled, a pitiful chuckle escaping. "Of course, someone had to know."

      "Thank you for trusting me."

      "There's no one I would trust more," an admittance deeper than either could comprehend.

      They sat, Fawn's head on Sawyer's shoulder, hair messy, the sun peaking through the hills as three turned to six. The black cat skittered away to hunt down the birds that chirped around them.

      The Potter's would be awake soon, the moment would fade, gone but not forgotten. As most things are. Coffee would be brewed and bacon would sizzle on the stove that Lily still insisted on using despite their magic. The kids would be up, laughter would fill the manor and conversations would involve quidditch, gossip and work.

      But for these last few moments, it was just them together, love, trust, and the truth behind The Veil.

                     The End (for real this time)