Epilogue One
Confronting the Faceless 💀 CompleteSummer, 1998
"The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse"
Lucas Elstewart
"You're going home tonight Lucas, I'm getting sick of seeing you asleep on the staff room couch."
There was a time in his life when Lucas Elstewart would have flinched in poorly-disguised fear hearing that sharp tone coming from Audrey Caldwell. That time no longer exists - after everything they've survived, Audrey's temper is pretty low on the list of things that worry him. Heck, they're close enough now that he regularly, openly refers to her by a nickname that once upon a time only her sister could get away with using.
"There are still patients in the Muggleborn Ward." He says flatly, and Python sighs.
"Yes, and you're going to be one of them if you don't go home. Seriously Lucas, you look more gaunt than they do at this point. No one needs you working yourself to death right now, we're all mourning enough already."
Right for the guilt complex - she really is pissed. It works though, it always does, and he can feel himself caving.
"I should just check in on-"
"No." She says firmly. "Your shift ended yesterday Lucas. Go home and see your mom, I'm getting sick of her calling me every two hours asking where you are."
Lucas grimaces. "Why do you have my mom's number?"
"Because we're teaming up to make sure you don't work yourself into a heart attack." Python replies shortly. "Go home, she's making dinner."
Lucas grumbles a bit more, but they both know he's going to go. If he wasn't, he'd have walked away from the conversation by now, like he usually would. But today... today he's just feeling too tired to really resist. Not that he isn't always tired, but today's exhaustion feels like a physical force, weighing down his limbs and seeping through his organs, squeezing around his chest, making each inhale a bit of a chore.
Maybe that should concern him, but medical magic is tiring, and like Python had pointed out he's pulling a lot of overtime making sure all the Muggleborns still staying with them are stable and on the way to recovery. And they all are now - they lost about a dozen at the beginning to malnutrition and shock, but every other patient is officially out of the danger zone and will be released some time between now and the end of July.
They'd released their first two dozen patients already, and another eight are being cleared to go home in the morning, leaving around fourty five or so people in the Ward, primarily the most extreme cases from Azkaban, the worst of whom are still on IVs.
That was an ingenious move on Python's part - Lucas is confident they either would have lost more patients or lost some of the Healers had they not had the Muggle contraptions to help stabilize the malnourished patients. It's probably taking longer for some people to get out of the hospital than if they were being healed magically, but no one is complaining.
He blinks out of his thoughts and realizes that Python has already swept out of the staff room, leaving him to haul himself off the couch and stumble over to the Floo connection they'd had set up a few weeks back. Most of the Healers are too tired at the end of their shifts these days to safely apparate home, so Audrey had coordinated with Gryphon to finally connect the Mungo's staff room to the Floo Network. It's only temporary, of course, it's too dangerous to leave an open connection in the center of Mungo's, but for the time being it's a lifesaver.
He goes straight home (his mother had hooked their home up to the Floo Network as well, though he doesn't know the story behind that decision. His mother had been viciously against anything magic in their house for years - aside from Holly - and he suspects Python has something to do with this change as well) and is greeted with the promised smell of dinner.
"Lucas? Oh good, Audrey got you to come home." His mother sounds relieved, and he can hear her bustling around the kitchen, probably making sure nothing is going to burn before coming out to check if it's really him.
He wanders over to their couch and collapses onto it gracelessly, his legs too tired to keep him up for very long. Yeah, he definitely needs to sleep - maybe for a few days. Maybe a week.
Holly hops up onto his lap and starts loudly demanding attention. She settles on his stomach, purring happily, when he aquiesces.
Amelia Elstewart hurries into view a moment later, and she pauses in the kitchen doorway and regards Lucas with sad eyes. "Darling, you're going to work yourself to death." She scolds. "We'll eat in here. How does a movie night sound? They're making a new Star Wars movie, we could rewatch the first one."
Lucas hums idly in response, more focused on Holly than his mother. Splitting his attention feels too exhausting just now.
He thinks his mother frowns before she turns to go back into the kitchen, and Lucas sort of loses time after that, Holly's thrumming purrs lulling him into a sort of trance-like state. His cat kneads happily at his stomach, little claws biting into his skin but not really hurting. After the battle, not much really hurts anymore.
Food does appear in his line of sight at some point, and Holly is shooed away. He's disappointed about that, but doesn't complain, just shifts laboriously so he can eat without spilling.
His mother does put on Star Wars, and he gets caught up in the story, chewing robotically despite not really feeling hungry. But he can't remember the last time he'd eaten, and everyone is always on him about taking better care of himself, so he obediently swallows down the entire plate. His mother looks pleased at least.
He goes to bed afterwards, his mother assuring him that she'll clean up and that he needs to rest. He lies down on his bed after shrugging off his Healers' robes, and drops into darkness only moments later.
He doesn't wake up.
Channer Lindberg
Channer is one of the first people in the Muggleborn Ward released, and he's glad for it - he'd felt like an invader being inside a ward meant for Muggleborns when he himself was comfortably half-blood and had really, barely been impacted by the war at all. There was the end, of course, but he'd been in Azkaban for maybe a month as compared to the rest of the people in the rooms around him.
Adeline and his mother had both visited him during his stay at Mungo's, but discussion had been clipped and uncertain. He'd tried to apologize to Adeline at the same time she'd tried to apologize to him and they'd both ended up falling silent so neither of them had gotten the apology out.
Not that Channer thinks Adeline owes him anything. He can vaguely remember Yurina's interrogation and he's certain that his sister had to go into hiding after he'd revealed everything she'd told him in confidence. He'd ruined her life - she's definitely not the one who needs to apologize.
It's the day before he's released that his mother finally tells him that his father had died while locked away in Azkaban. His funeral is scheduled for the next day, and Channer numbly agrees to go even though the nurse had urged him to take it easy for at least another week.
When his mother leaves he tries to remember the last time he'd spoken to his father, remember what he'd said. Had he said "I love you?" No, probably not. Channer isn't sure he'd ever told his dad that.
Now he doesn't have the option to any more.
The next day is sunny and clear, and the witch working the desk who helps him sign out is chipper enough that it feels like she might be insane.
"Great day for freedom!" She jokes brightly as he signs off on his own release forms. "Got any plans coming up?"
"I'm..." He considers telling her. It would probably ruin her mood though (and hasn't he ruined enough?) so he settles on a half-truth. "I'm seeing my mom and my sister later."
"Oh how fun!" The witch beams. "Linette and Adeline, right? Lovely women, always a joy to see them come in."
Channer decides he'll freak out about this stranger knowing his family later, which is a new trick he learned while in prison. So it was good for something, apparently.
His sister is waiting outside the hospital. "Hey." She greets quietly. "Um, we're actually waiting for someone else." She adds with an awkward smile, and if this is going to be how it it with his sister now Channer doesn't blame her. But the idea that she won't want to be around him anymore hurts more than he thought it would.
"Oh." He says, taking a long moment to realize that he probably just sounded incredibly rude. He's not used to talking to people anymore, not that he was very good before. "Um, who is it?"
"You don't know him. He let me stay at his place after mine was ransacked so we've become friends." Adeline says, and then flinches at the same time that Channer does, but she doesn't apologize for bringing up his betrayal. He'd already told her not to.
"Anyway, he's visiting his son - Henry is still in the Ward for now, but he's stable. Healers say he should be out next week some time, which is exciting for Charles." Adeline quickly finishes the thought. "He should be back in a bit, he's going to drive us over to the funeral."
Channer blinks instead of verbally replying, uncertain how to take that. Also drive? What the heck does that even mean? He thinks his father mentioned something of the sort a few times, but Channer honestly had never paid it much mind, as it was a Muggle travel method and he was always more interested in the magical variety of transportation.
Now that he's thinking about it, he has no idea if he still has a job. The thought nearly breaks through the walls he's built up around his emotions after weeks in solitary, but despite a few cracks he does manage to hold steady. No need to start panicking now - he'll save it for when he's home by himself and isn't bothering anyone.
The man who eventually joins them - he introduces himself as Charles Davies - looks to be pushing fourty, with broad shoulders and calloused hands that speak to a life of manual labor that Channer has to stop himself from physically recoiling from.
"So you're Adeline's brother. She was right worried about you so I'm glad to see you're safe and sound." The man says with a grin that's warm despite the stress lines pressed deep into his face.
Channer just nods, not sure how to respond to that. Charles leads them over to a strange contraption, and he hopes his sister knows how much he's trusting her right now because the damn thing looks like a death trap.
Still, he gets in and they manage to reach their destination without incident, though Channer is feeling a bit ill from the endless jerking of the machine. When he steps out he needs to take a few moments to breath in the clean air and clear his head.
"Thanks Charles." He hears his sister say, followed by the sound of the death trap rattling away. When he focuses again he realizes his mother is standing in the archway of the graveyard, wrapped in black and looking far older than her actual age.
Something in Channer twists, and he follows his sister as she hurries over to their mother to pull her into a hug.
"I'm so glad you two are alright." He hears as he approaches, and for once when he mother turns to hold out an arm to him he allows himself to be folded into the embrace.
He can never tell his father he loves him - he wont make that mistake with the family he has left.
Claire Rosier
Max survives the Battle of the Ministry, despite Claire's near-certainty that Yurina would kill him when she'd run away that night. He's found unconscious and bleeding heavily in the same hallway Claire had abandoned him in, and he's put under watch as St. Mungo's until he's healed, at which point he's put into a Ministry holding cell pending trial for his actions with the Unit during the war.
Claire isn't allowed to see him, but a friend from her time employed with the Wizengamot Administrative Services who's working the case takes pity and keeps her updated on his situation.
Max was a lower level Snatcher who never took the Mark and didn't participate in the Battle of Hogwarts, so he mostly likely won't get a life sentence for Azkaban (unlike their father, who was sentenced while still in a coma in St. Mungo's and it's moments like this Claire wishes she was still blind to the similarities between the two sides). However, up until now every trial has resulted in a prison sentence, and Claire feels sick just thinking about her brother being locked up when he really was just doing what he thought was right.
Not that he was right but... Claire sighs and kicks at her desk leg mournfully.
She's been moved back to her former job, but it doesn't have quite the same effect that it used to. These days they aren't hunting down dangerous criminals, at least not to her mind. Now the reports she reads and files are of young men and women, some only teenagers, being sent to the worst prison in the wizarding world because they were on the losing side of a war.
"It's a witch hunt." Fitzwilliam Selwyn observes from the cubicle beside hers, glancing up at her startled jump. "You were sighing again. Thinking about your brother?"
She smiles ruefully tilting her head in confirmation. Fitz had been an early recruitment for her - she knew he'd married a Muggleborn, but was protected thanks to his last name, and he'd been a perfect fit for the Underground. He's continuing now to prove that he's probably the best person in this whole damn Department. "Yeah. His court hearing is tomorrow but I'm not allowed to testify. They're not allowing any witnesses who would be 'biased'." She takes the extra effort to make the sarcastic air quotes with her fingers.
Fitz rolls his eyes as well. "You'd think they'd learn after how badly things went with the trials last time." He says sadly. "We should get word to Kingsley - I think he left the justice stuff in the hands of the highest ranking Aurors left after the battle, and they're obviously working through their anger still."
Claire hums. She knows the acting Minister has his hands full unravelling all the legal damage done - Rat complains about it at their weekly dinners with Python (and there's a sentence she never thought she'd say, but honestly the outings are the only source of happiness in her life at the moment) - but she wishes Kingsley was doing a better job choosing the people he puts in charge of the projects he can't attend to himself. Just being part of the Order doesn't automatically make you a fair judge.
Not that Claire has any actual control in the area though - she just compiles documents and magically sticks them together so they can be passed on to the lawyers involved with each case.
"You can't testify, but aren't the trials open to the public?" Fitz says after a moment, startling Claire out of her thoughts. "Why don't you go be there as emotional support for him? He'd probably appreciate it."
I abandoned him and our father repeatedly for almost a year, but sure, sitting and watching him be sentenced to prison will make up for all that. She thinks, but outwardly she gives a small smile.
"I was already planning to. It's the least I can do." Is the understatement of the year.
The next day Claire arrives early for the trial, hoping maybe she can see her brother before he's brought into the courtroom.
Instead she sees two lawyers bickering quietly near the entrance.
"I'm not approving this witness!" One hisses as Claire draws close enough to hear."And that's final."
"Too bad for you the judge has already approved him." The other lawyer says evenly, but her posture is tense and irritated. She glances up and sees Claire. "And that's all I'm going to say on it." She declares and strides away. The other lawyer looks ready to argue until he sees Claire as well and backs off.
The female lawyer had looked familiar, but it isn't until Claire is inside the courtroom and watching the opening statements that she realizes it's Willow Kiddell, one of the prosecutors who had worked with the Muggleborn Registration Commission. Which is... a weird choice, but Claire can't say anything unless she wants to be thrown out of court.
Max sees her as soon as he's led in, and she tries to convey support, apology, and strength in a single look but she's not sure she actually succeeded.
From there the trial feels like a joke. Willow is on defense (which is a surprise) but the prosecutor is nailing both her and Max to the door rather firmly when Willow finally calls her final witness.
Theodore Yaxley looks good for someone who was on the run from the Ministry for almost four months, and he has a confidence about him that feels far more genuine that the kind he used to carry around him like armor.
He gives his name and takes the mandatory dose of Verasiterum before Willow begins her cross-examination.
"Max took the job with the Unit because he needed to support his family." Theo says clearly. "If you're going to send him to jail, then shouldn't the same sentence be given to everyone who worked for the Ministry during the war?"
Claire gets why the prosecutor didn't want Theo on the stand, and she can't stop grinning as the judge releases Max on the condition that he be under supervision.
Claire is more than happy to volunteer for the job.
In the meantime, she's actually been getting used to living in the Muggle world. Their technology is something rather marvelous, and Yurina has quickly learned that the fastest way to get Muggles to like you is to use the media. It's always keeping her up to date on events from around the world as well, so she knows who all the most powerful Muggles are currently, and she's already working on how to use the information to her advantage.
Farrah Krychelle Parker
Farrah is one of the last people to be released from Mungo's specially set up Muggleborn Recovery Ward, and if she's honest with herself she's both anticipating returning to Oxford and absolutely dreading it. She's been gone for almost a year, and most of her friends aren't magic so she can't exactly explain where she'd gone.
Clara has visited her a few times, but the passage to London is often too out of the way to make the trip, so Farrah mostly saw her on weekends, and only for an hour or so at a time.
Farrah thinks Clara just doesn't know what to say - Farrah hasn't looked in a mirror yet but she's certain she must look absolutely awful based on how Clara can't keep eye contact when she does visit. It's disheartening, and the main reason Farrah isn't looking forward to going home, despite definitely being sick of colorless walls after eleven months of staring at one form of them or another.
She has a standing appointment with one of the psychologists Mungo's contracted from the Squib rights group that has been the one somewhat positive part of her life since she was released from Azkaban. Her therapist is a young woman name Ellie, who's happy to let Farrah talk about absolutely anything except for her time locked up in the dark with little food or comfort for months.
Farrah can pretend she's okay around Ellie, even though Ellie probably knows better than anyone exactly how cracked and lost and broken she always feels these days. After all, Ellie was only brought in because Farrah was entirely disassociated for the first five weeks that she was free and it was freaking out the nurses in a major way.
But Farrah is fine now. She can tell the difference between fantasy and reality a good ninety percent of the time these days, and Ellie says she's improving impressively fast. Which, of course she is. She's Farrah Krychelle Parker and she refuses to be anything less than perfect. Or to look at herself in a mirror.
Clara does make time in her schedule to pick Farrah up on her release day, and Farrah is given some clothes so she doesn't have to go home in a hospital gown. She changes and brushes her hair without looking at herself and quickly hurries to the lift as soon as the Healer in charge clears her to leave.
Clara is in the waiting room, slightly dusty from the Floo over, and attempting an easy smile. Farrah gives a tense grin of her own, all too aware of how fake it feels glued to her face.
"Good to see you up and about. And in... clothes." Clara offers after and awkwardly long moment of silence.
"I definitely need to get home and put on something more presentable before I see Christian." Farrah agrees, hoping they can start talking about cute outfits and date ideas like they used to.
Clara coughs. "Um, right. Maybe we should stay in tonight though? Just so, you know, you settle in again. You're supposed to take it easy, right?"
Farrah frowns. That... sounds like Clara is hiding something. And sure, maybe some part of Farrah had suspected that (visiting Mungo's isn't that hard) but now that Christian has been thrown in she's taking note. Thinking about Christian is the only thing that kept her sane in that cell - Clara can't take that from her, she can't-
"Your friend is right dear, you're under instructions from your therapist and your doctor to keep stressful activities to a minimum." The welcome witch confirms. She'd snuck up behind the two without Farrah noticing, holding a stack of files in one hand. "And it would likely be best to limit visitors as well. They'll want to know what happened and if you don't feel ready to talk about it it could hurt your progress."
She then holds the files out to Clara. "These are the release forms. By signing them you're taking full responsibility for-"
Farrah zones out as the woman walks Clara through the terms and guidelines of Farrah's release, her mind reeling from what the witch had said. No visitors? But... she wants to see Christian. But if she sees him he will have questions about where she was and she can't actually tell him, can she? He's not a wizard, she can't break the Statute of Secrecy and tell him, they aren't even dating yet (she thinks, that fact is still a little fuzzy but she's pretty sure they weren't dating yet. Maybe).
She doesn't realize she's started hyperventilating until someone gently takes hold of her wrist and helps her sit in one of the waiting room chairs. Farrah obediently puts her head down to her knees and focuses on her breathing. Once upon a time she'd need someone to walk her through the exercises to bring herself down from the edge, but now she can do it herself so long as someone else catches her slipping.
When she comes down enough to begin registering the world around her again she hears Clara talking.
"-not ready to be released yet? I mean, she just did... whatever that was, and I'm at work most days I can't... I can't just sit around doing whatever that was to calm her down!"
Something in Farrah's chest twists. Oh. That's why Clara has been so uncomfortable. She doesn't know how to deal with Farrah anymore.
That's fair, though. Farrah doesn't know how to deal with herself anymore. Why would anyone else want to?
Yurina Nakayashi
Yurina's escape had gone perfectly - as suspected no one had thought to look for her in the Muggle world until she'd already gotten out of England. Charming (literally and figuratively) her way onto a trans-Atlantic ocean liner bound for New York is easy enough, and then she has three and a half long, boring days to work out her exact plan of attack once she's back on solid ground.
She knows she needs to reach out to her contacts, determine who's still with her and who was just agreeing because they thought they could get power out of the deal. From there she can determine where to go next.
She's got time to work things out - the people pursuing her have no idea where to start and are on the entirely incorrect continent for the moment, and once she has her contacts back in order she'll see about getting eyes inside that particular operation so she knows her enemies' moves before they make them.
Nothing too difficult, really.
And that's how, three months later, Yurina is "on the run" in a comfortable, luxury hotel suite in Los Vegas, waiting on the person currently hiding her to get back from his meeting with an informant he insists will have what Yurina is looking for.
A surprising number of her contacts turned out to be legit in their commitment to the cause, so Yurina has had no shortage of places to lay low and continue planning. Unfortunately, she also hasn't secured an insider to keep tabs on the group chasing her yet, which is what her current host is hopefully fixing now.
In the meantime, she's actually been getting used to living in the Muggle world. Their technology is something rather marvelous, and Yurina has quickly learned that the fastest way to get Muggles to like you is to use the media. It's always keeping her up to date on events from around the world as well, so she knows who all the most powerful Muggles are currently, and she's already working on how to use the information to her advantage.
She's currently flipping through the offered channels on the television, trying to find anything that isn't a soap opera - the things are pure idiocy and the fact they're apparently quite popular among Muggles only confirms how utterly vapid they are.
She eventually leaves the television running on the local news and wanders over to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that line her current accommodations, looking out on the nonstop bustle of the city. Vegas isn't Yurina's favorite place that she's been so far, but she can appreciate that at least it wears its misery out in the open for anyone to see. Sure, a lot of people are too drunk or too naive to see it, but Vegas is a cesspool of filth and sin and it knows it, even plays into the image. Yurina can appreciate that.
She glances over her shoulder when she hears the front lock click open. It's most likely her contact returned from his meeting, but she keeps a hand lightly resting against the wand up her sleeve just in case. She still doesn't know where exactly the British troops looking for her are right now.
But it is just Amos returning, and she relaxes slightly, though her hand doesn't leave her wand. "Any luck?" She prompts, all big eyes and hopeful tone (Amos thinks he has a shot at sleeping with her, and she's stringing him along since so far he's proven to be useful).
"I know who's funding the search." He declares grandly, and Yurina arches an eyebrow to indicate she's listening. It's not the best lead, but she could use it to kill the cash flow and seriously stunt the search efforts.
"Abeni Akingbade. Rumor says she was already funding the Order of the Phoenix during the war and she just kept providing assistance afterwards since the acting Minister in England is former Order as well."
Yurina purses her lips, recognizing the name. "The daughter of the current Supreme Mugwump." She drawls in distaste. The International Confederation of Wizards had claimed neutrality in the war, but obviously they had been lying. Or the woman had been acting alone, not that Yurina buys that. Luckily she already had plans to take down the Confederation, and though they can no longer be executed in full she's pretty sure she knows where she can squeeze now to hinder her pursuers. "If I remember correctly she was always very hands on - I'm certain she's offering more than just money to the efforts." She gives Amos one of her patent silver smiles that has him melting. "Thank you Amos, this is incredibly helpful."
"Anything you need my lady." He says eagerly, and Yurina rewards him with another smile before dismissing him.
"I will see you for dinner tonight." She assures him at his obvious disappointment. "But I need to make plans."
"Of course, I will see you soon then." He gives what she's sure he thinks is a charming smile, and then bows low to kiss her hand. She rolls her eyes when his back is turned - Americans are so odd. Westerners in general, she muses as the door clicks shut, are strange in their methods of courting.
But now is not the time to think about such things - she need to get to work. The Akingbades live in Nigeria, which is politically corrupt (in the Muggle world too, which is an interesting parallel but one she'll dig into later) and thus Yurina already has a list of names of people who can be bribed into helping her cause. In fact, she already had a man willing to help overthrow the current Nigerian government during the war - she's certain he'll help her now.
Best of all, organizing an assassination is far from a difficult task, and can even be done before dinner tonight. So she gets to work.
Author's Note: This is what I like to call the "depression epilogue" OTL The only happy person is Yurina because she gets to murder people xD And also, in case it wasn't clear - Lucas worked himself into organ failure so... that's the final official death of the war ;;
Next Time: Summer, 2008
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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