Chapter Twenty-Two
Confronting the Faceless 💀 CompleteJanuary 6-7, 1998
"Family. Whatever ya' say, blood's important..."
Claire is quite proud of how well the Underground is doing these days. Really, she is.
Their efforts to save and relocate Muggleborns is going almost impossibly well - terrible as she feels thinking it, Claire would have to admit that Saundra dying might have been the best possible thing to happen to the Underground, considering it's been thriving ever since.
They have four actively operational safehouses within the country limits - two within London and two out in the country - and two nearly-active out-of-country escape paths (with a third supposedly in the works). That had been one of their biggest struggles for a while - neither Claire nor Rat had easy access to the Port Key offices and hadn't been able to determine if they could recruit anyone there, but Python says a new member fixed that problem so they should have most of the Muggleborns currently hunkered down at the safehouses out of the country within the next week.
Python has ended up taking charge of most of the Field Agent Branch, since she had easier access to the non-Ministry personnel who would be better suited to the roles, and she runs the medical parts of it as well. Rat is in charge of safehouse maintenance and communication as well as Muggleborn relocation between the houses.
In less than three months they've safely found, treated, and hidden over two dozen Muggleborns. And Claire is very proud of them for it.
It's just that she is no longer doing very much, and she's getting antsy.
Muggleborns had wised up to the trials somewhere around mid-November and stopped showing up, and when the Ministry started sending out people to collect the Muggleborns directly they'd find their homes already abandoned.
Claire is one of a five-person skeleton crew still manning the Muggleborn Registration Commission offices - everyone else has been transferred back to their original positions. Claire is painfully jealous of them, considering she has exactly as much to do for the Ministry as she does the Underground - which is to say, very little at all.
For a week or so she'd been going down to records to erase and rework Muggleborn records, but Python had recruited one of the actual Record Keepers to continue that line of work as she'd said Claire was starting to look suspicious. Claire supposes Rat probably raised that alert, and it probably saved her hide, but she's still a little bitter nonetheless. All her old responsibilities are now being handled by other people.
She's still technically a leader for the Underground - she does a lot of the Ministry recruiting and even brought in three of their four safe house directors - but things are almost running themselves at this point.
The result of the double whammy of both her jobs not needing her is that she's spending a lot more time at home, which is a blessing in some ways, but a curse in a whole lot more, especially after the last months of ninety-seven being so demanding she was barely home at all.
Now she's being forced to either sit in an office listening to Rookwood be incompetent for hours on end, usually bored out of her mind due to the lack of work to get done, or she comes home early and has to spend time with her family, which is unfortunate because it's really driving home how much she loves them, and how completely and totally she's going against them through her work with the Underground.
Her saving grace is a small, regular meeting that she and Python have each week to share updates. Occasionally other Underground members will show up as well - usually one of Claire's Ministry recruits but occasionally one of the field agents or safe house operators pops in to give information they didn't want to send by messenger. The first week of January they're scheduled for Wednesday evening and by Tuesday Claire is already getting anxious to go.
Her brother notices her nerves (he notices everything these days, and she somewhat resentfully wishes he'd been like this during school, not now when she needs him to be his usual oblivious self) and takes it upon himself to try and spend even more time with her - which is the opposite of helpful.
"Did you ever successfully cast a Patronus in school? I forget." Max throws out as the two of them lounge in the sitting room in front of the roaring fire Claire had lit a few minutes before when she'd first entered the room. Max had followed her shortly after and decided to engage in more "bonding" as he's taken to jokingly calling it.
She sighs, knowing from experience the past few weeks that trying to avoid the conversation will only make her brother that much more dogged in his pursuit of it. "No, I never did and I still can't. I sometimes can get one out as incorporeal but that's about it."
Max snorts. "Better than me then, I never got anything." He declares. "Biggest disappointment dad ever had apparently. We ran into some dementors on our last trip, and got me thinking I should probably go back to trying to cast one. Wanna practice with me?"
On the one hand, it's something to do, and probably something that will be useful down the line as the war gets more violent (the field agents are already seeing it with the Snatchers - they've lost three Muggleborns, and though they've saved far more it doesn't change the fact that those failures are disheartening). On the other hand it's guaranteed endless hours with her brother, constantly having to be hyper aware of the pit in her stomach that forms whenever she remembers that she's fighting against everything he believes in. And while she doesn't regret it, it's sometimes hard to listen to the other Underground members curse against the Dark Lord's followers when one of them is someone she honestly loves.
"I dunno, work might pick up again." She says eventually. "I don't want to commit to something if Madame Umbridge needs me again. They are working on new methods to track the fugitives you know." She refuses to call them Mudbloods, even if it would mean solidifying her cover.
Max hums. "True, they reorganized the leadership of that group in charge of it recently, didn't they? That seems to have helped. I don't know the details but one of them is actually a guy I knew from school. He's three years younger than me but he was a fantastic Quidditch player." He grins. "He was quite the character in school though - it's hard to forget Theodore Yaxley, that's for sure."
Claire shrugs - she remembers Yaxley well enough as she'd quite enjoyed Quidditch during her school years. And though Theodore was never as notorious as Slytherin Captains Mayra Byrne or Melissa Tatum, he was a known figure among Gryffindor fans due to his intense rivalry with the Gryffindor Keeper and Captain Kent Sylvester. She mostly remembers him being a slimeball, which she supposes does fit with Max's 'quite a character' description.
"He was." She agrees lightly, "Though I probably knew him less than even you did."
"Oh yeah, you guys would have crossed paths to." Max acknowledges. "Man, sometimes I forget that we did go to school at the same time."
"Only for two years, and it's not like you ever paid me much attention." Claire points out with a half-forced smile. "We weren't that close until after I graduated."
And we'll probably lose this again when you find out what I'm doing.
"Well you were a baby, it wasn't exactly cool to hang with you." Max defends with an easy laugh.
"And a Gryffindor." Claire can't help adding. Hopefully no bitterness slipped into her tone, but the divide caused by their Houses has always been a sore spot. Her family may have been okay with her being sorted into Gryffindor, it's not like she was the first in the family to do so, but her being proud to be a Gryffindor is less acceptable.
To her surprise though, Max doesn't grimace the way her father does, or shift uncomfortably like her mother. He just shrugs slightly. "Eh, school was school. The whole House thing was kind of stupid, don't you think? I mean, I'm a huge fan of the Appleby Arrows and Laurel Hobbes is one of their starting Beaters. If I clung to nonsense from school I'd have to still hate her on principle for leading the Gryffindor Quidditch team, which is stupid, she's a great player and I respect her for it." He snorts. "Though yeah, during school the Gryffindor thing was a bit of a problem."
Claire blinks and stares at him hard. Eight years out of school and this is the first time she's heard anyone in her family (other than her cousin Petra, who was also in Gryffindor) say anything positive about her house. It doesn't make sense though - if Max is okay with Gryffindors, why is he fighting for the Dark Lord?
Max raises an eyebrow. "Why the surprise Claire? I'm hurt you'd think I'd keep judging people based on what House they were sorted into, I'm more mature than that." He grins wickedly. "You don't seem to have outgrown it yet though little sister, maybe you should keep an eye on that." It's teasing, but Claire suddenly feels bad. Hasn't she been working with a Slytherin for months now? Maybe even more - she does know all the code names of the twenty-two active Underground members, but she doesn't actually know all of them. Any one could be a Slytherin, proudly fighting for what's right, and here she is still thinking that snakes are mostly bad because of a school rivalry.
"Sorry." She says after a moment. "I guess school-time bias sticks around if you don't take the time to weed it out."
Max shrugs. "Honestly if it wasn't for you and Petra I probably would still have some of it myself, but you two are alright so some other lions must be as well."
She laughs. "That's one way to look at it." She agrees.
They chat idly for another hour or so, before their mother calls them in for dinner. Mr. Rosier isn't present for dinner - he hasn't been in a few days - which Claire knows means he's off doing dirty work for the Dark Lord. The knowledge sits heavy and uncomfortable in her gut, not leaving much room for the meal her mother presents her.
Her mother definitely notices her poor appetite, frowning pointedly at Claire's plate multiple time throughout the meal, but Claire really can't stomach more than half of it, and she excuses herself about a half hour later, cleaning up her plate and escaping up to her room.
She debates taking a walk to try and distract herself, but it's cold and miserable outside and she can think just as well from the warmth and comfort of her own bed. She just needs to make sure those thoughts stay on the Underground and what she needs to report to Python tomorrow and not drift over to her family and what horrible things her father might be doing right now.
Maybe she can try and come up with some good arguments as to why Python should take some of Rat's jobs and let Claire handle them instead - Rat already has plenty to do, and Claire is pretty sure at this point that Python isn't giving her more work out of spite more than anything else. The other woman doesn't make it easy to work with her, that's for sure. Maybe that's why Claire still has such a poor opinion of Slytherins.
Thankfully her attempt at self-distraction works like a charm, and before she knows it she's fallen asleep at her desk, waking up again sometime after midnight only to climb under the comforter before curling up again and returning to her dreams.
The next morning is rather sedate, as her mornings usually are these days. Though she technically needs to be at work by nine, no one particularly cares if she's late since she only ever needs an hour at most to complete her work for the day. Plus, she's one of the most senior member of the Commission now, so no one would dare try and call her out for coming in whenever she feels like. It would be nice if she didn't know that the reason behind the show of respect is her last name, and what people assume about her because of it.
Still, Python is always reminding her and anyone else who shows up to their meetings to use every advantage they have, and the benefit of the doubt being a Rosier gets her isn't something Claire will complain about. Be irked by, sure, but never complain (especially not after the lecture Python gave her the one time she did).
Breakfast is serve yourself and Claire asks Max where their mother is as she sets about making eggs, since they only have to fend for themselves when she's had to leave in a hurry.
He frowns slightly at the question. "Not sure sis, she was leaving just as I was waking up, and didn't really give me much of an explanation. I just hope dad is alright."
Claire frowns as well - that's where her mind had gone too, and she'd been hoping Max would alleviate her concerns. "Well, we can't know until we know." She sighs. "What are you up to today?"
He perks up slightly. "Going to the Ministry actually, did you want to Apparate over together?"
Claire raises an eyebrow and turns away from her eggs for a moment so she can look directly at her brother. "I mean, of course, but why are you going there? I thought you found paperwork terribly boring."
He laughs. "Still do, and I don't need your lecture about it Claire." He teases. "But I'm thinking of applying for a position there, I saw an ad in the Prophet this morning that actually sounded interesting. Figured I'd throw my hat in the ring."
Claire grins at him as she finishes making her breakfast and dumps half of it onto a plate. "Mum will be thrilled to hear you finally have a real job." She laughs, and he grins even as he rolls his eyes.
"Bartending is a real job and Tom pays really well, as you all well know." Max snipes back and Claire drops the eggs in front of him before going back to put the rest on her own plate.
"At the very least you can make us all drinks when our days go poorly." Claire returns lightly.
Max winks. "Or to get you started before a long day." He adds and they both laugh. Breakfast is comfortable after that, and it isn't until they've gotten into separate lines to get into the Ministry an hour later that Claire thinks to wonder what job Max could possibly be interested in. He really does hate paperwork, and every department requires at least some forms filled out on a regular basis.
She turns the question over in her head a few times before mentally shrugging and deciding it doesn't really matter - knowing her brother he probably didn't realize exactly how much paperwork is involved across the board. It's a common misconception among the populace that Departments like the Department of Magical Games and Sports or the Aurors don't have to fill out any paperwork. Max probably just fell into the same trap.
Once she gets inside she heads up to the tenth floor and strides past Runcorn with an idle flap of her hand when he tries to point out that she's late. It's a practiced motion, one she actually learned from watching Python during their meetings, and she's found it quite effective in nonverbally declaring superiority. It works best on idiots and minion-types, of which Runcorn is both.
Due to the drastically lowered number of people moving through the office, the job has changed slightly. Now they're given unsealed documents and are charged with determining if the person accused is guilty or not. If they submit the file as a confirmed Muggleborn then the name is added to the Snatchers' list of targets.
Claire wishes she could just mark all the files as innocent, but it would be far too risky. Instead, she determines one or two people she can safely declare as falsely accused and then submit the other names to the Underground so those people can be protected.
She settles at her desk and lazily sorts through the files left on her desk, memorizing each name and keeping an eye on Runcorn as she does. He always leaves for a restroom break around ten thirty, which is when she'll silently grab her Underground wand and start making a few edits to the documents in front of her.
Today is a good day - one of the files before her doesn't even need any changes. The person's lineage, included in her file, clearly shows that she's descended from a Squib who in turn was part of a known pureblood family. Claire makes the necessary indications on the file and sets it aside before starting in on the others to sort out which ones she can safely change and which she'll need to pass on to the Field Agents for protection.
As expected, Runcorn departs at ten thirty sharp, and after glancing at the other Commission members, all of whom are clearly bored and barely paying attention to their own work nonetheless Claire's, Claire slides a hand into her robes to grip her Chestnut wand, while her Fir one stays out on the desk in plain view. A few murmured spells, accompanied by her free hand writing nonsense onto some parchment to cover what she's doing, quickly shifts some information on the files she'd deemed 'correctable' while the rest are sorted over into the 'submission' pile once she's confident she has the information memorized. She'll write it down with the rest this afternoon before heading to the meeting with Python.
She goes to hand in the reports to Runcorn, who glares.
"Umbridge wants to see you." He grumbles. "That secretary of hers said so this morning. So you can drop these off with her yourself."
Claire puffs up her chest and hopes it looks like pride as she turns and strides out of the room, still holding the files. Hopefully Runcorn will take that as a two- salute. Meanwhile her brain is whirling over why the Head of the Commission would want to see her. Did she slip up? She can't think of a time she did, but perhaps someone saw her changing files and ratted her out?
She takes the lift down to the first floor and swallows nervously as the doors slide open. Audrey Blishwick glances up from her desk, eyes as unreadable and unnerving as ever, and nods to the door behind her.
"She's in, she's expecting you." The woman says shortly, and Claire hums.
"Do you take these or does she want them directly?" She asks, holding up the files and waving them a bit for emphasis.
"Do you take these or does she want them directly?" She asks, holding up the files and waving them a bit for emphasis.
Audrey tilts her head. "I'll take them, thank you. I file them at the end of the day, so just put them there." She indicates a corner of her desk with a quill before turning back to what she'd been doing prior to Claire's arrival.
Claire drops the pile where indicated and then steps past Blishwick's desk to rap smartly on Umbridge's door.
"Come in!" The sickly sweet voice calls from inside, and Claire mentally steels herself as she pushes open the door and steps inside. She feels like she's locking herself in a cage with a feral animal as she shuts the door behind herself.
Umbridge looks as she always does, like a pink toad with a bow on its head, and her smile could probably poison children. The woman waves for Claire to take a seat, which she does somewhat hesitatingly.
"You wanted to see me Madame Umbridge?" She asks politely, crushing her urge to shudder as the woman's gaze settles on her fully.
"Don't worry Ms. Rosier, you aren't in trouble. Indeed your work ethic has been praised by your colleagues." Umbridge simpers, and though the tone is disturbing the sentiment does quite a bit to ease Claire's concerns. But if this isn't about the Underground being discovered, she's at a loss as to what she's been called in for.
Umbridge must read that on her face (and if that's the case she needs to practice) because she answers the unasked question. "As you know there have been some changes to the Fugitive Recovery Unit in recent months, and they are currently in the midst of hiring new employees."
Something in Claire begins to chill as her mind jumps ahead to what this might have to do with her. If Umbridge is volunteering her for that group she doesn't have any real reason to say no, but she can't leave her post with the Commission. She needs to be there to collect names for the Field Agents - none of her other operatives have the access she does, and obviously Rat doesn't either considering Claire being brought in at all.
Umbridge apparently doesn't notice her momentary panic as she continues chatting away. "I of course have offered to help them in whatever ways that I can, being in the position I am of course should make me very useful to them."
Claire detects a trace of irritation and a flash of amusement momentarily breaks through her panic - obviously Umbridge's help was rejected by the Unit.
"Anyway, they have a new applicant interviewing today and as he's your brother I thought you might have some insight into how he works! It will surely be useful to the Unit when considering his application."
Claire might have forgotten to breathe for a few moments. It would explain why she's suddenly so light-headed. Umbridge's words bounce around her head rapid-fire even as she struggles to keep a straight face, hoping the wretched toad will believe Claire is just thinking through the question and not having a mental break down.
So that's why Max is here. It certainly is a job without paperwork, logically it should have been the first one Claire thought of. And yet she hadn't even considered it. Hadn't really thought her brother would go that far, even knowing he's done some work with their father already.
But that was something distant, almost ignorable. This, this is the Snatchers. This is the main group the Underground is fighting against - and now Max is joining their ranks. Now she really is going directly against her family.
She clears . "He's a hard worker, but he didn't have the best grades in school. He's more practically minded than anything, so when it comes to working with his hands he's quite good, and he learns fast." It's all true, too. Max would be the perfect Snatcher.
Umbridge dismisses her after that with copious thanks, and Claire makes her way to the nearest restroom to empty out her stomach. She needs to get more responsibility in the Underground - she can't be home so often anymore, not now, not after this.
She isn't sure she'll even be able to look at her brother tonight, knowing what he's doing.
The rest of the day is a blur of denial and boredom, and she Apparates into their secret meeting place over the Hog's Head twenty minutes early because she doesn't want to go home but she doesn't want to stay in the Ministry past quitting time.
Python arrives only a few minutes after she does, and the woman raises an eyebrow, clearly curious about her presence.
"I normally come early to set up, but I suppose we can start now if you've got the names." She offers wryly, flicking a blonde strand of hair that's come loose from her bun away from her face.
"Just us today then?" Claire guesses, leaning against the wall. She doesn't trust the mattress enough to sit on it anymore - one comment about from a field agent was more than enough to make her wary.
"Panther is dropping in later, but you don't need to stick around for that." Python says dismissively. "He's been doing some side scouting to try and figure out if the Snatchers have a pattern so he's just giving me that to pass on to the rest of the Field Agents. Hopefully it'll be something useful, I'm getting tired of our Agents being injured or taken off guard by these idiots."
Claire suppresses a flinch at the Snatchers mention. She's here to not think about that.
"Sounds fine." She says briskly, trying to mimic Python's crafted ease with her tone. "I've got the list of Muggleborns to protect here, though there are five more names I hadn't added yet."
"Write them down, we've got time and I'm not so good at memorizing." Python says, making a face. "Any word on the Floo Network by the way? Bat reports to you on that one."
Claire groans mostly soundlessly at that question. Getting a private Floo System set up between the safe houses was one of the first things they agreed had to happen, but it's their only project that's had zero success. "Nothing new. I think Bat's about ready to murder her contact from how she talks about it these days." An idea suddenly hits her as she stands up and holds out the completed list to Python. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."
Python raises an eyebrow, the only indication Claire gets to continue speaking.
She has to think on her feet how to pitch this, since she'd actually only just come up with it. "We need a different way to keep our Safehouses in communication." She says slowly. "And obviously Bat's working on it, but it's becoming a more immediate need each day we don't have it."
"I know all that Lion." Python says, an edge creeping into her voice.
Claire holds up her hands. "I know, I know, let me get there." She insists, mind flying. "I can facilitate more direct contact while we're waiting. I'm barely doing anything anymore - checking in on the safehouses will be easy and I can keep appraised of their situations as well. Win-win for everyone involved."
Python doesn't look convinced. "You can't just Apparate directly to all of our safehosues, you'll give away their locations."
"Then I'll personally message the owners of the ones too centrally located, but Rabbit especially has a hard time staying in contact since he's a Muggle and he's out on a farm in the middle of nowhere. No one's going to see me out there." Claire points out, still thinking hard to try and stay ahead of Python and get her to agree.
And thankfully she's looking thoughtful now. "That's true. This was less of an issue when major problems could just be directed through messengers..." She purses her lips, and Claire bites down on any further comments - that means Python is considering it.
It takes forever (or five minutes, whatever) before Python finally sighs and gives a short, sharp nod.
"Fine, you're in charge of the temporary communication between the safehouses until we can get the Floo connection up." She says with a slight sigh. "You'll need to stay now so you can tell Panther - he'll report it to the safehouse owners over the next few days. You can start Monday."
Claire can't prevent the massive grin that breaks across her face. "Great!" She says happily. "So can I help you set up?"
Pather arriving moments later renders the offer moot. He looks exhausted and rather battered. Python is immediately on alert.
"Were you followed?" She demands.
Panther shakes his head. "This is from earlier." He says shakily, gesturing broadly at his injuries. "I'm all healed, Setter was just getting off shift so she patched me up. More importantly, I ran into a group of fully fledged Deatheaters staking out a Muggle town on the outskirts of the Forest of Dean. I wans't expecting them, but they weren't expecting me either. I think they assumed I was Order, so we're good on secrecy." He adds as he lowers himself onto the mattress, clearly uncaring of the he himself had pointed out probably happened on it. "Took a couple of them down with me too, so maybe that will help things."
Claire and Python both congratulate him, and Claire urges him to be extra careful in the future. She knows Panther from school - he'd been a Gryffindor two years ahead of her and a prefect to boot - and she'd hate to see him killed in this.
Claire only lingers long enough after that to pass on her new role to Panther, who assures her all four safehouses will be informed by Monday, before she reluctantly Apparates back home.
She's startled to find that the lights are out and the house is silent. She steps across the threshold hesitantly, pulling out her wand defensively.
"Hello?" She calls tentatively. "Mom? Dad? Max? Anyone home?" It's just past six in the evening - there should be plenty of bustle, not this strange stillness.
She finds the note in the kitchen several minutes later, as it's the last room she canvases for intruders.
Max & Claire -
At St. Mungo's. Your father was hurt on his last job. Meet us there when you get home.
Mom
Claire's heartbeat picks up and she remembers Pather's proud declaration that he'd hurt some of the deatheaters he'd surprised. She remembers congratulating him for it.
She's at Mungo's moments later, Apparating directly into the waiting room. Max waves her over and she hurries to sit beside him.
"They aren't letting us in, only mom." He says tensely. "She won't tell me how bad it is."
Which means, Claire knows, that it's really bad.
She excuses herself to the restroom where she's sick for the second time that day. She doesn't know how much longer she can keep this up.
Author's Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMILY! :D Surprise double update!!!! I wish they were happier chapters, but the timeline is the timeline ^^'' Anyway, I hope everyone is doing alright in quarantine!!! And that you aren't in a Claire situation, stuck with people you have a hard time being around xD
Next Week: They say humans are social creatures, but she could do with some alone time right about now
So I'm thinking I might do a final 'afterwords' chapter to share my thoughts and feelings on writing this story, if that's something people would be interested in? I'm also open to answering any lingering questions people might have there as well!
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