"Ní mhaireann solas na maidine don lá." // "No morning sun lasts all day."

Tara didn’t know how bad the rumors about Credence’s parentage had gotten until the sound of something crashing into the wall one afternoon jolted her out of her thoughts.

Picking her head up from where she had been sitting on the couch, she managed to catch the tail end of Leta storming up the staircase, the distant sound of a door slamming following her disappearance. 

From the kitchen, Theseus poked his head around the corner.

“What happened?”

Tara peered over at the wall across the room from her, seeing something laying down on the floor at the base of it. Rising from the couch, she quickly walked over to pick it up. It was a small, thin book of poems, with a marker sticking out of the top that noted a specific page.

Opening it, her eyes quickly flickered across the short collection of words:

“A son cruelly banished,

Despair of the daughter,

Return, great avenger,

With wings from the water.”

Tara snapped the book shut, revealing the book's title to herself; “The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus.”

In a flash, the witch had whirled on Theseus.

“I’m going to kill Travers.” She growled, storming into the kitchen and tossing the poetry book onto the table.

Picking it up himself, Theseus’ eyes immediately twitched in recognition.

“Since when has the search for Grindelwald worn so thin that we’re considering lines of poetry as hard evidence?” she ranted.

Theseus couldn’t hide his wince.

“The other Directors are looking for anything to cling onto ever since the trail went cold.”

“Well it’s ridiculous.” Tara countered. “And it’s tearing Leta apart. Who is the Ministry to cast doubt on one of the most traumatic moments of her life? They have no idea what she’s been through, Theseus!”

“I know.” the Auror attempted to assure her. “But you know how the Ministry works-”

“I hate how the Ministry works.” she corrected.

Theseus made an expression of clear exasperation, but then paused, taking a moment to think something over.

“Was Leta’s brother’s death ever recorded in the archives?” he asked.

Tara blinked.

“I imagine it was?” she replied. “Their father was very…meticulate.”

The Auror nodded.

“That’s good. The records can’t lie. That’s all the proof she’ll need.”

Tara let out an annoyed breath.

“But how hard will it be to get them to look?” she asked. “They’re going to run this lead into the ground, or until someone gets hurt. You know that.”

Theseus couldn’t bring himself to counter that point.

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Tara's fears quickly came to fruition the following week. When Travers announced that they were going to be making a trip to Hogwarts in order to interrogate Albus Dumbledore about his previous connection with Grindelwald. 

The witch had been quick to demand that she join the mission, as a shadow of the Aurors that Travers had chosen to go. Not for any official reason, but rather because the Research department decided to send their own liaison on the trip as well; their secretary Leta Lestrange.

Theseus had barged into her office about an hour before they were set to leave, finding both witches standing inside, deep within in their own conversation. They both bore matching expressions of seriousness as he crossed the room with a purpose.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Tara deferred to Leta for an answer, who in turn took a deep breath before nodding her head. And when Tara looked back at Theseus, she found him already waiting for her eyes to meet his.

“You know where I’m standing.”

Theseus sighed, both his hands bracing on either side of his hips.

“Alright. But this isn’t an official interrogation. Let’s not go into this too hot.” 

Tara immediately furrowed her eyebrows together. 

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this, and not our fearless leader.” she barked sarcastically.

She could see the way Theseus’ jaw clenched.

“Nevertheless-” he continued steadily. “Neither of you have experience in the field, so just follow our lead ok?”

Tara let out a long, pointed breath.

“Theseus, you know how I feel about being told what-”

“We will.” Leta piped up, interrupting the brewing argument before it could begin in truth. “Thank you, Theseus.”

The Head Auror set his shoulders, nodding at the secretary before turning back to Tara for her response.

“Well, I’m not saying it.”

The man rolled his eyes, making for the door.

“Meet us at the Network in thirty minutes.” he instructed before disappearing.

As she usually did in his immediate absence, Tara let out an annoyed huff. She then turned back to face her best friend.

“Now, back to what I was saying; if Travers steps outta line, let me deal with it, ok?”

Leta nodded her head in understanding. The two of them had been having variations of the same conversation for the last 24 hours by that point.

“I told you, I just need to be there.” she said quietly.

Tara pressed her lips together, reaching over to envelope Leta’s hand with both of her own.

The odd group, complete of Travers, Theseus, Tara, Leta, and two additional Aurors, all appeared at the end of a long, stone bridge. The pathway in front of them now led straight towards the magnificent castle that loomed in the distance.

And despite her best efforts, Tara’s breath had caught in her throat.

It truly felt like it had been an eternity since she had laid eyes on the walls of her school. And the sight of the clouds rolling over the distant hillside only brought an even more sickly feeling to her stomach.

With a simple nod of his head, Travers had ordered the Ministry collective to follow him forward.

Which they did without a word.

Leta had hesitated only briefly, and Tara had placed a gentle hand in between her shoulder blades in order to urge her forward.

As they passed through the main doors, Tara had caught the sight of multiple shapes gathering in the windows of the towers around them. Faces of children of all ages watched their approach with both wary and curious expressions. 

Tara felt her jaw lock as she followed the Auror’s inside.

A chorus of laughter could be heard echoing out from up ahead. And Travers had all but pushed past the teacher that had tried to stop them from interrupting the school day. Tara recognized the woman as Minerva McGonagall, one of the newer teachers that had started about halfway through her own tenure at Hogwarts. 

The woman had yelled at him the length of the hallway, but Travers simply pretended not to hear.

Leta leaned in towards Tara, who was walking closely at her side.

“We shouldn’t be here.” she whispered.

Tara shook her head.

“No. We shouldn’t.”

Back up ahead of them, Travers slammed open the door of the furthest classroom in the hallway, silencing the laughter that had been previously seeping out from inside.

“This is a school! You have no right!” McGonagall shrieked in response, following him inside.

Tara was that last one of their group to step into the classroom, her eyes immediately dancing across all the faces of the children who had been in the midst of their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. 

The class that had been her favorite subject by far when she was in their place. 

“I’m head of Magical Law Enforcement. I have the right to go wherever I please.” Travers had spat cockily “Out of here.” he then demanded the students.

Not a single one of them obliged. Instead, they all turned their heads towards the professor standing at the far end of the classroom, who was gently leaning up against the front of his desk.

The smallest of smiles rose onto Albus Dumbledore's face.

“Go with Professor McGonagall please.” he asked the children, much more kindly. 

Immediately, they did as they were told, shooting worried glances at the group of Auror’s as they shuffled out of the room. 

Tara found her chest tightening with guilt each time she made so much as passing eye contact with a student. 

One of them lingered behind the rest of his class, stepping up behind Travers boldly.

“He’s the best teacher we’ve got.” 

“Thanks McClaggan.” Dumbledore tried to interject.

“Get out!”

“Come, McClaggan.” McGonagall beckoned, finally managing to escort the last of the students out of the room. The sound of the door eventually slamming shut behind them had caused Tara to jump in spite of herself.

“Newt Scamander is in Paris.” Travers said plainly once the room had fallen silent.

Tara and Theseus tried, and failed, not to glance each other's way.

“Really?” Dumbledore replied.

“Cut the pretense. I know he’s there on your orders.”

Dumbledore let out a soft scoff.

“If you’d ever had the pleasure to teach him, you’d know Newt is not a great follower of orders.”

In response to that, Travers simply tossed a small book across the distance between the two men. 

Dumbledore caught it with ease.

“You’ve read ‘The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus?’” he asked.

“Many years ago.”

“A son cruelly banished. Despair of the daughter. Return-”

“Yes. I know it.” Dumbledore snapped lightly.

“There’s a rumor this prediction refers to the Obscurial.” Travers continued.

Tara must have made a move forward, or at least some indication that she had been about to do so, for Theseus’ hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist, forcibly keeping her stationary.

“They say that Grindelwald wants-”

“-a highborn henchman. I’ve heard the rumor.” Dumbledore said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And Newt Scamander appears wherever the Obscurial goes, to protect him. Meanwhile you have built up quite a little network of international contacts-”

“However long you keep me and my friends under surveillance, you’re not going to discover plots against you, Travers, because we want the same thing; the defeat of Gridelwald.” Dumbledore said steely. 

His voice was a dangerous level of calm, and Tara could hear the slight edge of anger that surrounded his words. 

“But I warn you, your policies of suppression, and violence are pushing supporters into his arms-”

“I’m not interested in your warnings.” Travers hissed. “Now- It pains me to say it, because…I don’t like you.”

Dumbledore chuckled at that.

“But you are the only wizard who is his equal. I need you to fight him.”

A heavy silence blanketed the room as they all waited with bated breath for the professor’s response.

“I cannot.”

Travers clenched his jaw, drawing his wand out from his pocket.

“Because of this?” he asked, before casting a spell up above their heads, creating a misty image in the air. Appearing between the gray wisps of smoke, two teenagers stood, staring intensely into each other’s eyes.

Tara’s lips parted slightly in surprise, and Theseus’ hand fell from her wrist.

Neither of them had seen that before.

“You and Grindelwald were as close as brothers. Travers accused.

“We were closer than brothers.” Dumbledore was quick to correct, staring up at the projected image of his younger self, his eyes swimming with clear and present agony.

“Will you fight him?” Travers asked again.

“I can’t.”

“Then you have chosen your side.” 

With another flick of the Director’s wand, the misty images dissolved. And instead, thick metal admonitors appeared around Dumbledore’s wrists. The professor simply regarded them with a disappointed huff of air.

“From now on, I shall know every spell you cast. I’m doubling the watch on you, and you will no longer teach Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Not being able to take it anymore, Tara had pushed herself out into the center of the classroom.

“This is out of line, Travers.” she warned.

The older man immediately whirled on her position. 

“I will not be taking critiques from you, Director.” he spat. “You made it clear you wanted no part in field work. Your presence here is nothing more than a granted favor. So be grateful. And silent.”

Tara had moved to take a threatening step forward, when Theseus quickly materialized at her back, grabbing a hold of her arms in order to keep her from charging her fellow Director. 

“We need to go to Paris!” Travers barked at his company, all but storming out of the room.

Not waiting around for any of them to follow.

Tara ripped her arms out of Theseus’ grasp. And it was only as she did so, and her attention briefly turned towards the doorway of the classroom again, that she noticed Leta was no longer there with them. Cursing out loud, she quickly sprinted out into the hallways herself.

Tara wandered the halls of Hogwarts for nearly ten minutes without any sight of her friend. She had just made her way down the fifth hallway of her search, when her eyes landed on a bright stream of sunlight pouring out the windows of a distant classroom space. 

And as she walked even closer, she finally heard the sound of two familiar voices.

“Leta, I know how painful the rumors about your brother Corvus must be for you.”

“No you don’t. Not unless you had a brother that died too.”

Tara was quick to increase her pace.

“In my case it was my sister.”

A silence fell between the two wizards just as Tara appeared in the doorway, her hand bracing up against the stone column to her right.

“Did you love her?” Leta asked in a broken whisper.

“Not as well as I should have done.” Dumbledore admitted quietly. “It’s never too late to free yourself. Confession is a relief, I’m told. A great weight lifted.”

Leta just stared back at him silently.

“Regret is my constant companion…don’t let it become yours.”

“Leta-” Tara finally called out, drawing attention to her position in the entranceway. “We’re leaving.”

Leta glanced back at Dumbledore one last time before quickly padding over to her friend.

Tara gently grabbed her shoulder as the smaller witch was about to pass her by.

“Are you alright?” she asked in a whisper.

Leta opened her mouth as if she wanted to answer, but no words seemed able to leave her throat.

“Go.” Tara said with an understanding shake of her head. “Find Theseus. They should be on the bridge by now.”

The shorter witch immediately took off down the corridor, the clicks of her heels bouncing eerily off the stone of the castle walls.

Tara had taken a single step forward to follow her, when something in her chest pulled her attention back into the classroom. Back to the professor that was still standing alone amongst the rows of empty desks.

In the silence that followed, for the second time that day, Tara felt wholly embarrassed to be standing within the walls of her old school.

“It’s good to see you, Tara.” Dumbledore ventured kindly.

She felt something crack within her soul, as a wave of sadness cascaded over her entire body.

“Is it?” she asked, tears already beginning to appear at the corners of her eyes.

The professor offered her a warm smile.

“It is. You haven’t changed a bit.”

Tara scoffed bitterly at that.

“Have I not?” she said. “Throwing in my lot with those I had declared my enemy.”

“That’s not what I see.” Dumbledore said confidently, walking over towards the doorway with a purpose.

Tara suddenly found herself patiently awaiting his wisdom. As if she was a fifteen-year-old witch again, who desperately needed her professor to provide her the kind of guidance she was searching for.

“I still see one of the strongest, most steadfast witches to ever walk these halls. Who is still doing everything in her power to protect her friends.”

Her lips began to tremble as his words fell heavily on top of her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Dumbledore.”

The professor just shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry…for everything you’ve had to endure.”

Tara remained silent, but the sound of a few disembodied voices echoing down the hallway quickly knocked her out of her daze. She took an immediate step back out into the hallway.

Dumbledore had reached out a hand towards her, but stopped upon catching a glimpse of the metal admonitors around his wrist. With a new, more resolute expression he caught the witches eyeline for one last time.

“Whatever you do…don’t ever let them send you somewhere you believe you shouldn’t go.”

Tara gulped, managing a faint nod before turning and disappearing down the hallway.

She emerged onto the stone bridge a few minutes later, jogging over to the cluster of people waiting at the end of it. 

Travers had shot her a pointed, angry look upon her arrival but ultimately said nothing. While Leta was still staring wistfully back at the castle they had just left.

“Are you alright?” a low voice came from above her.

Tara didn’t answer Theseus. Didn’t even turn to look at him. Instead, she covertly brushed away a tear from her cheek as the group finally apperated away from Hogwarts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ｡☆ﾟ.･ ───