january 1945
carlo andonova was a sick, sick man.
it only took minutes for him to burst through the bathroom door clutching at his stomach. she removed the disillusionment charm from herself before setting several locking charms and wards on the bathroom door.
she leaned against the sink and waited for several moments as he finished relieving himself.
"memorias obstructionum," she casted the moment the stall swung open, as well as a quick. "expelliarmus."
his delight at seeing her followed quickly by confusion and subsequently anger happened only in a matter of seconds. for the small amount of time, before she placed the imperus curse on him, he attempted to physically attack her, seeing as he was without a wand.
she finally placed the spell on him (the curse was an odd sensation for the caster, giving them a rush of power that she had to fight to suppress), and the information started pouring out.
tell the truth, she commanded through the curse. "who are you?"
"carlo elijah andonova."
"are you an auror?"
"yes."
"are you a follower of gellert grindelwald?"
"yes."
sicaria smiled. perfect. this would be enough to get eileen to leave her alone at least for a few days.
sicaria's joy was quickly diminished.
andonova was the holder of commissioner sherridan's imperius curse. he had been using sherridan for months to manipulate his decisions and gain information. very basically, any classified information that had gone through sherridan or his office was compromised. andonova had access to everything.
sicaria began to feel sick as andonova continued the story, but she couldn't stop asking questions.
he told her how he had been living in sherridan's house.
"what about his wife? has she not questioned-"
"she is dead. i killed her in october."
even under the blanket of the imperus curse, he was able to act as he normally would. he noticed how she stilled, and he smiled, baring his teeth at her.
"i killed his kids too."
sherridan's kids and wife were known to be down with spattergroit. at least, that was the story that imperused-sherridan had been telling.
sicaria was horrified with the manner that andonova discussed his brutality. it wasn't nonchalant- it was sadistic. he took pleasure in the crimes, and seemed to also enjoy her horrified reactions.
"sherridan was immobilized. i used the cruciatus on the son 'til he couldn't scream anymore. it's no fun then. i drew the wife's out for a few days. you know of wideye potion, don't you? made sherridan and the daughter stay awake the whole time."
the attestations of the house-elves on their health status were given because sherridan, as master of the house, could command them to lie. no healers ever visited nor did the sherridan family ever visit the hospital. spattergroit could last for up to a year, and as andonova said:
"there was plenty of time to get what i needed from him. that was the plan. my plan."
she wanted to know. she needed to know.
"grindelwald- he was displeased with me when he found out. told me he'd take sherridan away from me if i couldn't act civilized. so i sat there and i shut up and i did as he asked, and look at me now," he said, smiling. "watching a pretty little spy get more and more scared of me."
"is that what you think this is?" she asked incredulously. "you think that this is fear?"
sicaria felt sick. she didn't want to take out her pent up frustration on someone who didn't do any of the things she was personally angry about, but andonova was nowhere near innocent. she'd essentially be using him as a punching bag, but she had to keep reminding herself-
he deserves this.
"did you feel powerful, carlo? did you relish in the murders of a pregnant woman and two children not old enough to carry wands? tell the truth."
"i enjoyed it. i enjoy all my murders." his voice was alight with mirth underneath the numbing of the imperius curse. "i want to slit your throat and watch the life bleed out of your pretty little neck. are you going to kill me? you look far too nice to kill people, princess?"
"no, i'm not going to kill you-"
"oh i was certain-"
"i'm just going to hurt you, really, really bad. now, be still," she commanded, and his body went rigid. "relax."
his body went limp, but his eyes were alight. "i'll find you."
"you won't remember this," it was her turn to smile. "watch everything i do."
his eyes snapped to where her wand twirled in her hand. "i'm going to make you beg me to kill you, sweetheart, but i won't. witches like you deserve to be savored."
she met his eyes dead on. "scream if it hurts. writhe. beg for me to stop."
she had to think. anything that broke the skin would leave a scar, so she had to stick to injuries that would be painful, but would not be visible. pinprick injuries and nonmagic bruises. she could shatter his kneecaps and as long as it remained a closed fracture. she could do anything nonmagical to him; she just couldn't make him bleed.
"what would you do if you were me?" she asked. "how would you torture someone?"
"the cruciatus is simple and effective. cast it enough times and it gets easier and easier. give me my wand and i'll show you, sweetheart."
crucio was on the tip of her tongue, but she could be far more creative than that. plus, that would have been her second unforgivable of the night, and using them in such rapid succession would harm her soul.
she sighed. "no," she said defeated. she tied his hands behind his back. "we'll have to do this the muggle way."
so she did other things, and she enjoyed the sound of his screams.
nothing permanent, she reminded herself, but the sound of his voice so delightfully recounting the murders of two children and a pregnant woman were hard to ignore.
sicaria was no stranger to brutality, and she found it easier to defend when her motive was morally sound as well as not leaving anything behind.
she left his body passed out on the bathroom floor where she left under a sleeping jinx that would wear off in an hour. there was no evidence that he had been beaten, nor that she was ever even there. he'd be in pain with every step he took, but try as he might, he'd never find a source.
when she woke up, she felt sick by what she had done.
or rather, she thought she was supposed to feel sick.
but she didn't.
she didn't really feel anything at all.
every time even a little bit of guilt crept up, she thought of the agony that sherridan was going through, trapped under an imperius curse and forced to watch his pregnant wife and children get tortured and then murdered, and being physically unable to do anything about it was horrifying. she thought about the final moments of their lives; a mother having to watch and hear her children being killed and knowing she was next. she thought of sherridan who was trapped in his own mind, probably going stir crazy under the grief and lack of control.
all of that was enough to erase her remorse. he deserved everything she had done to him.
she attempted to put the thought out of her mind. it was over now, and the letter with the information had already been sent to the panel (or just vota, depending on who received it) last night.
rolling over in her bed, she glanced at her watch on the nightstand, seeing that it was relatively late in the morning. sunday's at the school were always particularly slow, especially when she had nothing to do, but she did today.
dumbledore had asked to meet with her in the afternoon, so she decided that she'd quickly write her potions and arithmancy essays before going to his office.
at breakfast, she received a letter with a few newspaper clippings in it. the largest piece was a headline: AUROR COMMISSIONER APPOINTS YOUNG AURORS TO SPECIAL TASK FORCE.
beneath it was a photo of sherridan, andonova, auror huang, and several other aurors who she didn't recognize. she memorized the names.
she didn't need to look up to see who had sent her this.
if he ever did something like this again-
she didn't know what she'd do.
she wouldn't let him.
she would never forgive herself if she somehow got him caught up in all this.
her meeting with dumbledore was like something she'd never experienced before. it felt like a training exercise where she was being interrogated, forced not to give up any details nor be caught in a lie.
it was tense. it was nerve-wracking, for sicaria at least.
they said their greetings and she sat in the chair she always did, but the moment she set foot through the door, she knew this would be different than their previous meetings.
she had never been in a room that was both loud and silent until dumbledore's office. it was as if the ambiance of the room was shifting due to the combined volume of the thoughts racing through the air between them.
"i struggle to trust you, ms. edwards."
she was almost excited. it had been so long, she felt, without any kind of challenge. interrogating people took no work, none of her classwork took any energy, and conversing with other students kept her bored beyond levels that she thought existed.
she didn't realize how much she missed the adrenaline. actual espionage made her work for things, and perhaps doing men
the only thing that had ever given her more of a rush was tom, followed closely by cocaine. those were
of course, no one challenged her as tom did, and dumbledore didn't possess some of the more... salacious talents that tom did, but he could still make her mind work. dumbledore was anywhere between forty and seventy, meaning he had plenty of years to perfect his talent for manipulation. this was something she could focus on; digging up and trying to analyze a wizard as powerful and orchestrating as dumbledore was a project that could keep her mind occupied for years.
"and why is that?" she said, carefully remembering to catalogue each sentence they spoke. with the help of occlumency, she was able to divide her mind into separate rooms, all of which were focused on the upcoming conversation.
"because you do not trust me," he said simply. "all of my acquaintanceships operate under the understanding of mutual trust. you trust me, or you trust that you'll be able to get something from me. i trust you, or at the very least i trust that you want something from me. yet, there is nothing i have that you desire, nor anything i can promise to you."
"you have nothing to hold over my head," she rephrased.
he leaned back in his seat, maintaining direct eye contact throughout. "not necessarily. should i want to blackmail you, i certainly could, however, i don't think it would be all that effective, nor am in the business of extortion."
sicaria raised a lazy eyebrow.
it seemed that even great wizards like dumbledore fell prey to hubris.
"and let's say, hypothetically, if you were to blackmail me, how would you do so?"
"pardon?"
"you heard me, mr. dumbledore," she picked at her nails beneath the desk as she spoke. sicaria did not miss the chance to pull the conversation back into her control, steering it in the direction she wanted it to go. "would you tell people i'm a junkie?"
"i'd never do such a thing," he said, eyes twinkling. "and i prefer you do not call yourself that."
she waved her hand dismissively. "would you tell people that i gave you information that should have been classified?"
"and damn myself in the process?"
"no, i thought not," she looked him dead in the eye. "you'd use tom."
dumbledore did not react. "continue."
"i see. you know, when trying to manipulate people, you're forced to give a little bit of truth to make yourself seem human. people don't trust machines, they trust people, and it gets people to trust you. you, however, are very transparent to those who care to look past the blinders of your power and their hatred for you or the things you stand against. of course, i'm sure you wish you could, but you can't do everything on your own. you use the things people care about to manipulate them, don't you?"
"enlighten me."
dumbledore was a narcissist, that was very clear to her. he didn't trust other people to be able to do what he knew needed to be done, so he had to rope other people into doing his bidding in ways that made it hard to deny him what he needed. he had so many connections that it couldn't be too hard for him to promise people the things they wanted if they helped him.
"i know you know what i mean."
he appraised her for a moment before nodding. "very right. but see, you'll never fully trust me until you feel that we are at an even playing field." he rummaged through one of the drawers in his desk for a moment before straightening and sitting a folded piece of paper on the wood.
he inhaled sharply. "i believe i have made a grave mistake in judgement. i have wasted precious time; time that cannot be returned to us. at first, you were meant to be nothing more than an excess information channel. a pawn. i have come to realize that i am in no way the only person who underestimates your applications. slowly i came to realize that you weren't even a bishop, nor a rook. i have seen and heard of what you are capable of, and i have formulated a plan, around which you are an integral piece. a queen."
"that isn't the way chess works. all pieces cannot know the strategy. the pawn would not want to be killed, even if it was to mean that the king would survive. people value their own lives much more than they value winning."
"correct you are. and what does that say about the person who controls the pieces?"
"it says that you're willing to do a great many things to win this war." she was talking more to herself than she was to dumbledore.
"but remember, ms. edwards," he said, raising his wand with a flourish. all the candles in the room burned blindingly bright for a moment before dimming once again. "i never stray too far from the light. i think that there is something i can give you."
"and that is?"
"an end to the war."
sicaria's heart stilled. she counted the beats, knowing when to think before she spoke.
"do you mean to tell me that you know how to end the war?"
he nodded and smiled the wind from the open window whooshed through the room as dumbledore's pet phoenix landed in the windowsill. "i do."
"and you are waiting on what?"
"several factors have to fall into place, one of which, you kickstarted."
"that being?"
"gellert knows that macusa is reentering the war."
he finally slid the folded piece of paper across the desk. she hesitantly lifted the parchment and unfolded it.
it was a letter.
albus
working with the americans is a new low for you.
i can tell it is you; it reeks of you. your signature is practically signed at the bottom of every official statement that seraphina releases.
it is beautiful i think, how i was able to make the entire world dance. they stand on their toes wondering what i will do next. that, my old friend, is power. you are chasing me, and you have been for decades.
i set little fires all over the globe and watch as aurors scramble to put them out.
but where will my next inferno be?
i shall admit, whatever bureaucrat you've been coaching in the auror department had been ahead of me a few times recently, but that shall soon be put to an end. something has changed- shifted perhaps. i can sense it, but it will not matter.
they are so busy capturing pawns not paying enough attention to look up and realize that i have taken their queen.
so tell macusa to pour as many aurors as they want into london; it will not matter soon. trust that i will find every single one of them, and i hope they beg and plead for you to save them as they die by my wand.
you are doing this horribly. it's hardly even fun for me anymore. it truly is terribly boring.
x,
your old friend
dumbledore sat silently as she read the letter four times, memorizing each word.
"you correspond with a known terrorist?"
"are you in a position to have a moral high ground?" she didn't see how he could joke in a time like this.
"that isn't the same and you know it. was it not you who defended them?"
"so do you."
she scowled and looked down toward the page once more before folding it back up and sliding it back across the desk. "you're going to get me thrown in azkaban. i'm supposed to report you."
"but you won't," he said quietly. "i am sorry to put you in this position, but you'll find that it is necessary. you mustn't tell a soul at macusa or the ministry of this."
she nodded.
"i need verbal affirmation, ms. edwards."
"i won't tell anyone."
he nodded and threw the folded paper into the air and the pair watched as it burst into flames. the phoenix let out a cry of delight.
"he knows that i read and receive them. i rarely respond."
"i don't understand," she admitted. "this doesn't make sense. grindelwald isn't a madman."
none of this was making sense to her. it felt like dumbledore was trying to overwhelm her with fragments of information that left her without enough information to form a single hypothesis.
she had pieces to far too many puzzles, some of which she had no intention of solving. she only knew the titles of books that she was forbidden to read. she had so much information but nowhere to store or apply it.
she was trying to figure out a war from a conversation.
it hadn't really hit her until now that dumbledore seemed entirely confident. he was only nervous about this. he needed her; he had to recruit her, and that made this meeting unavoidable.
"are you certain?"
she nodded, understanding what he was doing. he couldn't use legilimency, so he needed to get into her mind another way. "he'd continue something that he already knows he's won? bullshit."
"he enjoys the chase."
and just like that, sicaria was one-up on dumbledore.
because those were not the words of an old friend.
no, that was much more intimate than casual acquaintanceship.
dumbledore hadn't guessed that. he knew that.
imagine the scandal.
she didn't let the recognition show on her face. had he let that slip on purpose? sicaria did not think so. she didn't want to play her whole hand at once; she needed to have something up her sleeve in the event something went wayward.
and dumbldore had given her the perfect out. if somehow this whole thing went wrong, she could say she had done all this with the intention of ending the war as quickly as possible. she could say that she fell prey to dumbledore's manipulation.
he looked at her as she contemplated.
she inhaled sharply and gave a brief nod. "okay."
she hadn't realized how tense he was until he relaxed. no one else would've picked up on it but her, but the tightness in his voice and the posture of which he maintained all but disappeared.
it was obvious to her now that she was very, very important in dumbledore's plan. that was the only explanation.
still, there was something that she felt was missing; something in plain sight that she didn't pick up on.
"now, ms. edwards. we are at an understanding, i hope? we will remain at an even playing field."
she understood. the basis of their working relation was-
was what, exactly?
what did dumbledore want from her?
"you are a very talented occlumens," he said conversationally because now the hardest part of their discussion was over. "most do not even notice when i am performing legilimency."
"thank you," she said, thoughts still hovering elsewhere.
"i wonder... has anyone been able to invade your mind?"
"yes." he raised a questioning eyebrow and she shook her head, letting him know that she was not going to answer his unasked question. "mr. dumbledore-"
"we are equals now. call me albus."
"albus," she tried out, feeling slightly odd calling dumbledore by his first name. "what is it that you are asking of me?"
he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and sighed slightly. "you are not a believer in blind faith, that much i know for certain, but there are certain things that i cannot divulge at this time. i, albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore, solemnly swear that there will come a day that i explain everything to you. until then, this will have to suffice. none of this will work if we are unable to maintain a baseline measurement of trust."
"and why me? why am i the queen on your chessboard?"
who was the king? who was the person who held the light side together? who was the person whose life represented triumph over grindelwald?
sicaria didn't know.
dumbledore smiled brightly at her.
"because you are the most powerful and versatile protectors of the king. and much like real chess, if the queen is lost, the king is, well, damned."
dumbledore was unnerving.
he was a master manipulator, better than anything sicaria had seen before. as she exited his office, she had to force herself not to go back and ask more questions. she could barely make sense of any of this.
she just needed to think, but all his words were blending together.
she wanted a pensieve so that she could go back through that memory.
the whole conversation from the moment she had walked in had been mind games so complex that she was only somewhat certain that she had come out with more than she entered with.
she needed a distraction for right now. she needed to let the information settle and revisit it when her mind was a bit clearer. her thoughts were racing and she needed something to calm it.
her distraction came to her the moment she left dumbledore's office.
after spotting her in the library, sicaria stunned and levitated avianna carrow and dragged her body to the uninhabited storage closet in the back section of the library.
carrow was worthless and an absolute waste of time.
she knew nothing and had nothing, only being the average deranged, pureblood-fanatic that seemed to roam the halls of this school. it gave her nothing to focus her attention on, mind running in circles back to her earlier conversation with dumbledore. he likely wanted to make her focus on it for the remainder of the day, forcing her to leave her attention solely on him.
she felt like she needed to get some of the thoughts out of her head. she should've gone back to her dorm, but she had no desire to be cooped up in such a small space alone with her thoughts. she resigned to stay in the library and make her notes of dumbledore in greek. she made a reminder in her notes to use the spell riddle had taught her months ago so she could rewatch that conversation from a different perspective.
she barely got through a few thoughts before someone approached her.
"oh hello, heidi," sicaria said, giving her a faint smile from where she was sitting in the library.
"sicaria," the blonde returned the smile. "are you going to hogsmeade?"
"oh um," she closed the inkpot and pushed her quill off of the parchment so that it wouldn't bleed through. she struggled to switch her mind back to schoolgirl-sicaria. it was difficult to go from something as critical as winning a war to something as superficial and trivial as leaving school to go to the village. "probably just for a bit. i have a few books i need to get."
"ah," she smiled deviously, adjusting her skirt around her waist. "not going to see a certain boy?"
sicaria snorted. "no, why? more rumors, i presume?"
"just an observation. you've been with potter a lot recently-"
sicaria cut her off. "he's my partner for defense against the dark arts."
"so there's nothing going on?"
"no," sicaria narrowed her eyes. "why?"
"i-" she swallowed thickly, and said the next sentence as though someone had a wand pointed to her back. "i fancy him."
sicaria raised an eyebrow and bit back a laugh at the obvious lie. "is that so? would you like me to put in a good word for you?"
"no!" she rushed out, and sicaria snorted before she could stop herself. "there's, uh, no need. i have a handle on the situation."
"mhm," she said, putting her books into her bag. "i believe you."
"well then. i'll see you around, sicaria." heidi looked like she was about to be sick. her steps halted suddenly. "oh, also, i meant to tell you that abraxas is in the hospital wing. some accident during the quidditch match."
greengrass watched sicaria's face carefully, but it was already blank. "is he alright?"
heidi shrugged, a little too nonchalant to be genuine. "not sure, i haven't seen him yet," she lied. "bye sicaria!"
she practically skipped away, long hair cascading behind her. sicaria watched her go before turning back to her paper and weighing her options.
damn it, malfoy.
damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.
cocky fucking bastard.
she warned him. she told him to be careful.
yet here she was, hearing secondhand gossip about his ribs being completely shattered due to a suspiciously fast-moving bludger. she couldn't tell entirely what of heidi's story was true, but there were clearly some lies sprinkled in, though sicaria wasn't able to pinpoint a motive. she sighed and tapped her quill against the table before tossing all of her things into her bag and heading off in the direction of the hospital wing.
"for fucks sake."
as she approached the door, a thought suddenly occurred to her. it was very likely that all the boys were sitting here with malfoy, considering the fact that they were indeed his best friends. sicaria didn't even know why she was coming to visit him, aside from the undeniable fact that she wanted him to be alright.
her hand was on the doorknob. it was too late now.
maybe he'll be alone and asleep.
he wasn't.
"you fucking idiot," she sneered, coming up to the side of his bed, which was on the far right side of the wing. there were only three other people in the ward at the time, all of which were fast asleep, though it was only seven. the sun was setting in the windows, giving the room a golden tint as opposed to the intimidating blue sterility it was usually decorated with. malfoy turned over to her slowly before giving a smile and used his wand to levitate his potions essay to the end table next to him.
"come to see me on my deathbed, edwards? i'll remember to injure myself next time i want to see you."
malfoy was very dramatic.
"stop it," she demanded, before sitting at the foot of his bed though she hadn't planned to stay long. "are you alright?"
he shrugged before wincing and clutching the side of his ribcage. "i'll be fine."
she bit her lip before looking to the ceiling and letting out a sigh. "was it a spell or just the bludger?"
"a spell on the bludger. an isolated curse. ingenious, isn't it?"
she didn't laugh at the joke, instead pulling out her wand and casting a diagnostic over him. it wasn't that she didn't trust what the healer had done, she'd just feel guilty if she didn't try.
the curse they had used wasn't necessarily dark, but it could have chronic effects. it shifted a large concentration of nerve impulses to one section of the body, intended to make the injury that much more painful. if left there, it could slowly start to mute all sensations outside of that portion of his body, making him less sensitive to everything except his abdomen.
she frowned before lowering her head and looking down at his face. "who did this?" she demanded. something like triumph flickered in his eyes before he looked back up at the diagnostic floating over his chest.
"it's been dealt with."
she nodded slowly. she knew what that meant.
she bit her tongue. she could heal him and just sit here. he wouldn't kick her out; she could stay there and he'd let her. she wanted to sit here with him and talk to him and honestly just be here.
sicaria never thought she'd see the day that she missed abraxas fucking malfoy.
she wanted to cry, because it wasn't getting easier.
in fact, it was getting harder and harder. she wanted to cave so badly, but every time she did, she remembered that there would come a time when she wouldn't be able to choose whether or not she could go back to them.
she swallowed and kept her voice stable. "i'm going to do the countercurse. it's going to twinge a little."
he nodded and gestured at his abdomen. she heard the hospital door open behind them.
malfoy broke out into a feral grin.
"torpens." she casted.
malfoy's grin turned into a wince. "fucking hell, edwards! you said 'a little'!"
she raised an eyebrow at his dramatics. "pain is subjective."
"well look who it is." she took a deep breath, knowing the very thing (things) she had wanted to avoid was standing just behind her. she turned her head to see the four other boys standing right at the foot of malfoy's bed. it was adrien's voice who rang out first. "hello, edwards."
"boys," she said, giving them a slight nod before banishing the diagnostic and sliding off of malfoy's bed. any idea she had of staying with abraxas quickly disappeared.
"edwards-"
she summoned her bag from it's position on the floor.
"sicaria, stay. please." adonis stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
she stared him in the eye. "move, adonis."
he tilted his head to the side. "tell me again why you're running from us."
her stomach was churning as a bad feeling started to creep up on her. this was the most hostile they had been to her in weeks. she didn't like this approach because it didn't make her angry; it made her want to give in.
walking away would hurt now, but it would hurt so much worse later. she never let herself forget this, or she'd be running back to them as quickly as she could.
but still, she couldn't help but feel like she should indulge in it while she could. merlin, she'd do so many things for the pain to stop; for this to stop hurting.
that was a bad idea, and she knew it. she should have never come here. she glanced over adonis' shoulder at thomas, adrien, and tom. tom's eyes met hers immediately. he only raised an eyebrow and remained silent.
"move." her eyes snapped back to rosier's, who had a mixture of many emotions travelling through them.
"answer me."
she willed herself to be angry so that she could feed off that, but all her emotions had been muted lately, with the exception of one. pure temptation. it was rattling around in the cage she had stored it in, looking for a way to pick the lock and burst out of her.
"rosier, i swear to merlin-"
"what happened to adonis?" he taunted.
"move, rosier, or i'll-"
there was the bang of a door opening and the click-clack of heels on the linoleum flooring.
"too many people in the ward!" healer miranda came bustling out of her office, waving her wand to brighten the room. her features relaxed when they landed on their faces. "oh it's just you four. and... sicaria?"
while adonis was distracted, she slid past him.
"sicaria!"
"sicaria?"
"edwards."
the healer, adonis, and abraxas all called her name at the same time.
"yes, healer miranda?" sicaria's hand was on the doorknob. she forced herself not to look at adrien nor adonis' eyes, both of which were burning her under the intensity of their gazes.
"did you need something, dear?" the woman asked, scrutinizing sicaria carefully. all the other eyes in the room surveyed the interaction curiously.
sicaria clenched her hand to stop herself from shaking.
"no. i was just leaving."
she was halfway out the door when the healer called after her. "come see me tomorrow."
it wasn't a request, but she denied it anyway. "no need."
"riddle, you should-"
the door closed behind her. she didn't hear the rest of thomas' sentence.
she took in a sharp inhale and then held her breath for ten seconds, but it did nothing to stop the racing in her mind.
it seemed to flicker back and forth.
dumbledore and macusa or the boys and macusa.
the boys were her most recent interaction. every anxiety she had about them was projected to the forefront of her mind.
merlin, if macusa realized that she had let five people find out about her identity, especially one of them being a rosier, she'd never get out of azkaban. they'd probably make her an example of a traitor. she could see it now; her mugshot on the cover of the prophet or the tribune.
and then their memories. they would have to be obliviated so many times to take away that many memories.
but the alternative...
she could continue this, and they'd graduate and move on with their lives.
they'd forget about her on their own, without magic.
or they'd get tired of her when they realized she had nothing and was no one.
she wasn't a mystery anymore, so what else was there to her? she had only ever been two people; the daughter of aurors, and a spy.
who was she outside war? who was she going to become?
who was she?
she had no ambitions, no connections, and no future job prospects. her life had been a blank slate for so long.
she honestly hadn't planned to survive the war, but now there was a light at the end of the tunnel. she reminded herself that there was still plenty of time; that she could still be thrown into a fight and die in battle, but time was running out.
there was a chance she'd survive this.
and then what?
what would her life be when she was truly free? when she could go anywhere and do anything?
this was truly the worst idea that macusa had come up with. throwing an emotionally starved teenage girl into an environment where she'd be most vulnerable, and expect her not to come out compromised? especially for such an extended period of time; did they not anticipate her getting attached?
"edwards," apparently, riddle had a sixth sense of when she was moping, and the perfect ways to distract her.
she turned around to see riddle, sneaking up on her for the second time in the past two days. he was the very last person she wanted to see right now. she hadn't even heard his steps approaching, but perhaps that was because of her being trapped in her own mind. her expression blanked, but she knew he had seen it.
his eyes were glowing red, but seemed to flicker at the sight of her expression. "what is wrong?"
she shook her head. "what do you want?"
he blinked several times and his eyes returned to a consistent red. "what did parkinson do to you?"
she froze, brain moving slowly to remember what he was talking about. there were so many threads and plotlines moving about in her brain that it was hard to jump from topic to topic like this. "it-"
"doesn't matter? don't lie to me," he hissed, coming closer to her, but it was not at all the same feeling he had given her last night. this tom felt dangerous. "flint came up to me in the common room and asked if i could 'get parkinson over with' so he could come out of hiding. he ran away before i could see what he was talking about."
in her mind, parkinson really didn't matter, and she couldn't understand why riddle couldn't see that. he knew about macusa and he knew about the war; why in merlin's name did he think that a teenage boy saying something disgusting was a constant plague on her psyche?
none of it mattered, really. of all the things that had happened to her, that was at the very bottom of what was affecting her.
her mouth went dry.
deflect.
"why do you think that has anything to do with me?"
"do not insult my intelligence with this disingenuous ignorance."
"just stop. whatever this misogynistic pissing contest is-"
"you're calling me a misogynist?" his anger was displaced for a moment by incredulous amusement. "of all the things you've accused me of-"
"i don't need you to defend me!" she shouted, deflecting. "none of this matters, riddle. none of it."
his eyes flashed and then narrowed before his tone changed entirely.
"i'm not. i'm hurting the people who hurt you so that you can get your revenge without it being on your conscience," he said calmly. it made her feel irrational from her outburst.
how... considerate?
"or perhaps i just like hurting people. you did call me a sociopath, remember?"
what is it you see in him?
"or maybe, i just like hurting the people who hurt you."
she opened her mouth and then closed it, not knowing how to respond because she did not know how she was meant to interpret that admission.
"i hexed parkinson," she admitted after a bit of silence.
"good," he said, slightly pushing against her occlumency walls. "very good. but i'm certain he deserved worse."
she shielded her mind quickly. "i don't want you to-"
"i don't care," he demanded. "you'll tell me what he did, or i'll make him tell me what he did."
she spoke slowly, remembering what potter had told her last night. "if you keep doing things like this, you're going to get caught."
that was the thing about riddle's sudden new need to defend her honor. it was high risk and low reward, because beating up teenagers did nothing for her.
nothing.
because none of it mattered.
the sensation scratched at her mind for a moment. had she ever lived two lives where the events of one just didn't matter?
had she ever lived two lives?
before hogwarts- before tom, her entire life was being a spy. sparing a few nights a week for a month with a muggle waitress hardly counted as maintaining a double-life. seeing naoki, mrs. matsumoto, carter, and madam teresia once every few months wasn't maintaining a double-life.
but now she had.
and the second life was becoming tiring. she didn't want to have to maintain this anymore.
her life was crumbling and it didn't matter.
she didn't care.
to have that kind of apathy to the world... it was inhuman.
"am i?" his anger was momentarily displaced by his amusement and he smiled down at her. "i'll only get caught if someone else knows. are you going to tell on me?"
when she said nothing, he continued. "is this still so very hard for you, sicaria? not getting easier as you hoped, i presume?"
"leave me alone, riddle," she mumbled.
and just like that, all of his amusement was gone.
the anger was a distant memory, and his tone was now contemplative.
"is that really what you want?" he asked.
she cleared her throat in preparation for whatever monologue he had prepared.
"i was under the impression that the only thing keeping you sane was knowing that we're still chasing you. what happens if that just... stops?"
she steeled herself, trying to make her tone as empty as she felt. "that's all i've been asking of you. for nearly a month now."
he looked down at her like he knew she was lying. "very well. i shall respect your wishes for the time being, but first i will say this."
no. she didn't want that.
but you should.
but i don't.
his entire demeanor shifted suddenly, like a heavy weight had just been placed on him. this was unplanned.
he was-
is he-
fidgeting?
he was uncomfortable. he wasn't composed.
he was still perfect, but he wasn't eloquent. he wasn't rehearsed.
he wasn't refined. he was uneasy. he was restless.
he wasn't wearing his mask.
it made sicaria uneasy to see him like this. she thought perhaps he had suddenly become very ill.
"i am sorry."
his tone was laced with sincerity.
"i am sorry for every hardship i've caused you. i'm sorry that i used legilimency or any other magic on you, that i deceived you, that i manipulated you, that i nearly killed you, that i kissed you, that i slept with you, that i insulted, demeaned, and invalidated you. i am sorry for everything that i have ever done to hurt you, sicaria, and i am sorry that you do not believe me."
she stared at him, fighting to keep herself expressionless. he sighed.
"you are undeniably the most powerful and brilliant witch i have ever known."
he was still not touching her. he stood nearly five feet away from her.
"the moment you stepped foot in front of me, i knew you were different," he admitted. "i saw the way that you talked and acted and the way you studied people. i saw how you were able to study dippet and slughorn and every fucking student, and i wanted to know how you knew how to do that. i do not believe you realize how threatening it is to have a witch practically materialize out of thin air and be a superior duelist to me, or know things that i do not. you've performed types of magic that i have only heard about in theory. you're ambitious, and you know and are capable of so much. i have never known someone so similar to myself."
this speech seemed to be causing him pain.
he wasn't lying, she could tell.
"that... well, you understand. it's why you're so apprehensive of me, isn't it? because we are so similar? that feeling is mutual, but i thought you had no desire to explore it. i did. i wanted to know why and how and what made you the way you were- are. i wanted to know everything about you because it didn't make sense in my mind that someone could be so parallel to me. i couldn't come to terms with it, so i acted irrationally. i planned things poorly. i created situations that forced you to react to me, because i didn't know why you weren't as drawn to me as i was to you."
she had not moved a centimeter. her muscles ached, but she refused to let her body move. she continued to stare into his eyes as he did to her, noticing that all traces of the red were gone.
his eyes were dark green.
they were the color of the grass that grew in graveyards.
and they were relentless.
his eyes held her in place while his words suffocated her.
"and then i realized that you were. you were drawn to me, but you fought to suppress it when i couldn't. it made me so fucking angry that you could ignore me but i was being plagued and tormented by the mere mention of you. i saw the way you studied my expressions and paid attention to my eyes, but you never did anything more than that. but i kept digging, because i wanted to know why you were so much more able to distance yourself from me than i was for you. i did many things, some of which you aren't privy to, in an attempt to figure you out. you were like an arithmancy problem that only continued to develop and change as i solved more and more about you."
she had forgotten where she was for a second. steps echoed distantly in the hallway, but she hardly heard them. it was like tunnel vision.
her attention began and ended with him.
"when i touched you and when i kissed you, those were reminders for myself that you were a human. humanity is inherently chaotic and contradictory and unsolvable. i was never going to get a decisive answer."
she never once thought to interrupt him. she had nothing to say.
"but then i didn't understand. you let me kiss you, you let me touch you, you let me tell you that you're lovely. and i wanted to. i cannot explain that i've never felt desire like this. i was angry about it, so i lashed out at you. and then i found out about- you know. i was confused, and i lashed out at you and i was impatient. i was unsatisfied with my circumstances because i wasn't in control of them, and you were the only person around so you were the target. i was being cruel and through all of that anger and irritation and confusion, i still wanted to kiss you. i do not remember if i apologized for new york specifically, but i am sorry."
pieces of the puzzle of him were falling into place in her mind. she wanted to believe him, and she did, because something deep within her was telling her that he was finally being truthful.
"i thought for months that i'd find out what you were hiding and be done with it. i thought that this- this obsession with you would just disappear, but it didn't. it still hasn't. i am not a fool and it isn't lost on me that you're still hiding something, but i just don't care anymore. i have spent countless hours trying to make sense of it and to understand why i'm so ardently attracted to you."
her hands were definitely shaking with every emotion she had ever felt.
she was angry, because how dare he blindside her like this? how fucking dare he apologize to her and explain everything to her when she had finally stopped asking for one?
she was almost elated, because he had admitted that there was something that drew him to her. there was something between then, and she was getting an explanation for it.
and she was fucking devastated, because this was going to make everything hurt worse.
"you must understand that i rarely took pleasure in hurting you. i have said cruel things to you and i will not lie and say that i didn't enjoy knowing i had the power to agonize you in the way that you unintentionally did to me. i craved seeing you react to me and i still do, but hurting you was not something i actively sought out. it was simply a byproduct. there were no bad and good actions, only actions that did and didn't upset you, and because i did not understand you, i did not know how to distinguish the two."
it already did hurt worse. sicaria wasn't one for overused metaphors, but tom had quite literally stabbed his wand into her heart and was now waiting for the blood to drip from the wound.
and it made everything so much harder.
because there was no more confusion anymore. there were no more what if's. she knew what would happen if she went back to them now, and that made everything so much fucking harder. she could walk straight into his arms now and know that he wouldn't leave her in the dirt. he had an interest in her that extended to sicaria as a person rather than an interesting mystery for him to solve.
she wondered what would have happened if he didn't find out about macusa. would he just be perpetually conflicted with himself, the part of him that liked her fighting with the part of him that didn't trust her?
he took another step closer to her.
she knew that if he kissed her, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from running back to them.
he knew it too.
"you have been by far the greatest test of my self discipline. i confess that i have never known temptation as hypnotizing as you."
she didn't know what her expression was. she couldn't focus on anything but the sound of tom's voice.
he knew what he was doing to her, even if he couldn't see it on her face.
"so i am sorry for the pain that i caused you, but i will not regret it until there comes a time where i am absolutely certain that i have done irreversible damage to you."
her heart was beating painfully in her chest, practically shaking her ribs.
he was nearing the end of his speech.
"i have made many mistakes, but the only ones i will regret are the ones that continue to keep you from me."
he brushed his fingers along the side of her face for only a second, but he did not kiss her.
"now i am going to go beat parkinson until he can't walk for whatever he did to you, because no one is allowed to hurt you except me. no one."
quick a/n: you might have noticed that i'm no longer doing the all lowercase theme and that simply because i get a lot of comments saying that it makes it harder for people to read. upcoming chapters will have that format, and i'm also rewriting the earlier chapters, but there will be no major changes to the plot, just a little added backstory. it's going to take a while to redo the whole thing since its 265k works, but regular updates will still be at normal intervals (between 2-7 days).
i have about 6-7 prewritten/started chapters, so those will all be lowercase as well, but after that, uppercase lettering! yay!
also, i apologize for the wait. i've been taking a lot of extra night shifts recently and its taking away my time from writing this (especially since i have like seven unfinished fics/works, some of which aren't even posted yet). this little monologue from tom might be my favorite conversation of him that i've ever written. i rewrote it several times because i was struggling with how to balance his obvious instability and need for control with him being somewhat emotionally vulnerable to her. this is also the longest chapter i've written for anything ever so i hope it was worth the wait.
tom is a complicated character to write, especially since all of my fics use a different interpretation of him. it's part of why he's one of my favorite hp characters; he's so complex and versatile.
anyway, hope you all are doing well! love u all for the comments and votes
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