Monday July 3rd 1978.
Lilys Pov-
The first order meeting was exactly what Lily expected it to be, painful.
A meeting full of simply watching as Dumbledore sat at the conference table in silence, whilst he let Moody explain all the calls, and plans and missions for the coming 2weeks, almost passing the responsibility onto the other man, passing the inevitable blame.
Ever since Lily had decided she no longer trusts Dumbledore, the amount of odd behaviour she has witnessed, observed or realised in relation to the man has kept stacking up and up and up.
He's leading the order, but distancing himself from missions, he's recruiting fresh adults, but not fighting himself, he's raising an army within Hogwarts, whilst raising Voldemort’s army too within the same very walls.
He is a mess of hypocrisy and it makes Lilys blood boil.
She doesn’t even want to be here, but she knows someone has to, and she doesn’t want to put any of her other friends in Dumbledore's line of fire, Dumbledore's line of people to send off into the fight.
Especially Remus.
Being in a third side of the war, it has a lot of advantages.
There are only 12 people on their side.
Only 8 of which know there are/or are spies in the death eaters.
And only 5 of which know everything, including the horcruxes.
Their miniscule numbers mean there is less of a chance of betrayal, less of a chance of secrets or plots being overheard. Less people who could become kidnapped- prisoners of war, tortured for information.
So all in all, the third side of the war had a lot more advantages than Lily had originally planned for.
However, being in the third side of the war also brings its disadvantages, they have less people to provide them with information, less access to secure places, intel only Dumbledore or the ministry workers have access to.
It also makes having back-up harder. So, not only do they need spies on the inside of the death eaters, but they need spies inside the order.
Having less people is only a disadvantage if you make it one.
So yes, Lily is sat here at a dreadful order meeting trying not to send the old man up into flames by her glare alone. Because someone has to do it, and apparently that someone is her.
“Fabian you’re going to stake out some locations of known death eaters.” He hands over a slip of paper, sliding it across the table as stealthily as he can manage, eyeing everyone up as if daring them to try grab it, prove they’re a traitor, untrustworthy. If there’s one thing that Lily has learned so far at this meeting, other than a bunch of standard intel that may or may not come in handy, it’s that Alastor Moody is a paranoid, aggressive man. “Take this address, you are only there to observe this time, there is no need to engage.”
“Frank,” and he turns this time to look towards Lilys old Gryffindor prefect and head boy, she follows his gaze, allowing herself to look at the boy opposite her too, where he is sat next to his girlfriend (the old head girl) posture perfect, attention rapt, clearly ready for war, “You are going to-“
“Hold on.” Cuts in a voice from across the table, and Lily whips her head around, back to where the twins are sat to see Gideon cutting in, or Fabian? She really isn’t sure, “Where am I going?”
“You don’t have a mission this week, you are on standby in case back up is needed.” Moody’s gruff voice cuts in before looking back to Frank, clearly wanting to go on with the conversation.
“Ok, well if I’m back up then why don’t you send me as back-up initially?” Gideons continues to protest, annoyance etching its way into his features.
“Because we don’t want back up in with the first wave of order members, it’s more practical that way.”
“It’s also more practical to send more than one person on missions at a time to ensure back up is less likely to be required.”
“This is the plan, this is how it’s-“ Moody tries to snap out, but is interrupted once more.
“Just send me with Fab.”
“No, this is the plan, heed it.”
“What happened to constant vigilance? We both know stake outs can go south real fast Moody.”
“Gentlemen, please. “cuts in the headmasters voice at last, and Lily internally rolls her eyes, shocked he remembered he could speak, "I know Moody has gone over these plans with the utmost care, and I am sure he has found only the best set of options for this current set of missions. Let us all relax so we can move on and quickly adjourn, some of these tasks need to be started sooner than later.”
Lily watches as Gideon leans back on his chair, slightly mollified, though she can still see the discontent in his features.
But Lilys stomach is already rolling at what Dumbledore just revealed in one mere sentence.
I know moody has gone over these plans- he’s already passing on the blame, the responsibility, putting the orders actions in the hands of another.
She tries to shake off the shock that ripples through her, thanks to her ever lingering shred of faith in her old headmaster, at his blatant negligence.
After recruiting people (fresh adults), under the impression he is in charge, he is already tactically distancing himself from inevitable unsaid casualties, so he can remain the guilt free front man of this entire operation, keeping his hands clean so he can recruit more children and repeat the cycle over and over again until he and he alone is satisfied with the outcome.
He's the snake in the grass, who lures people into his grasp over and over again, just for more canon fire, for more foot soldiers, using the more venomous snake as a recruitment strategy.
He’s never cared, and he certainly won’t now.
In a way she understands, you have to be brutal in war, tactical, but this? This man, he's too far.
There are several tactics he could’ve moved to before this.
And he chose this?
He was never backed into a corner by the throes of war forced to make awful decisions due to dwindling numbers and loss, no, he has plenty of adults in his clutches, and still, he turns to the children.
If he so desperately needs a werewolf to infiltrate packs, he should turn himself, if he is running out of foot soldiers, he should go on the front line. After all his skill is worth at least three fighters. And yet he never does, he gets others to fight battles for him.
He acts as if he needs to be here at the end of the war to be the one to take down Voldemort, acts as if he is the only one who can, the only one strong enough.
If that is so true, he can handle a measly stake out.
How do you expect to kill an immortal man if you can't survive a raid.
He has made himself a figure head, made himself irreplaceable in the eyes of the followers he had recruited by melding young impressionable minds.
He has made it so that no one questions him hiding out in an office at Hogwarts.
No one questions him lingering in comfort and safety.
No one asks why they are dying instead.
But still, time and time again, he chooses the more catastrophic option, willingly and completely planned out.
It makes her reevaluate her last three years at school.
Reevaluate every speech he ever gave.
How much of it was propaganda?
How much was preprepared plans?
How much of it was just as James said in front of the entire hall, how much of it is him watching 11yr olds be sorted just to start 7yr long plans with each and every one of them?
It makes Lily feel sick, she reminds herself that this isn’t what it’s all going to be, that she is working on another side to this war, Dumbledore isn’t all there is.
But it sickens her that he is the main threat, a focal point, a glimmer of hope in this war.
It says a lot of bad things for where the war is at.
“Frank, you are going to take over the next shift on the Lestrange house, Alice you’re on the Black house, Emmeline-“
“The Black estate?” Lily cuts in, her brow furrowing, why are they watching Regulus?
Well, she knows, but they can't seriously think they are going to get anything out of this? Walburga and Orion are many things, but they aren’t dumb. They have so many people in their pocket.
“Yes Miss Evans,” comes Moody snarky voice to her right, oh she’s Miss Evans now is she? Because She’s questioning his methods? Typical. “,these are people known to associate or have close ties to the death eaters, but in order to put out actual warrants on their name we need proof that they’re involved, not just well credited theories.”
Well credited? Such a stupid thought, she doesn’t know entirely why she’s defending these people, these people Sirius and Regulus have told her about, she knows they’re bad, knows it would be better to keep an eye on them. But she can’t get Regulus out of her mind, how so many people will view him as one of those people.
How many will view James and Sirius as one of them too, it’s all too much.
“Not very well credited if you don’t have any proof?” she snaps her mouth shut, trying to lodge her protests back down her throat even if it means she chokes on them.
She needs these people to trust her if she is going to keep her part of the war safe.
“Their families are all the proof we need.” He snaps back, and she looks down at the table.
“You’re right, sorry.” She keeps her eyes down, trying to resist the urge to roll them.
These people, these leaders, are such prejudiced idiots she doesn’t know how they are ruling the ‘good’ side of the war.
Their families are all the proof we need, such bullshit. Such prejudiced bullshit.
“As I was saying, Emmeline, you stake out Malfoy manor, and Evans,” he turns back to her, apparently they’re stuck on surnames now, suits her, “why don’t you join her?”
“Thought you only needed one person per stakeout?” Gideons joins in here, fighting with her, for her? She’s not sure.
“I am well aware who needs to go where, dismissed.” He adds with one final grunt around the room, as if daring them to fight with him again.
“Miss Evans,” a pair of twinkling blue eyes that unsettled her stomach called over to her and she quickly made her way over to him, Emmeline waiting for her off to the side, “a word?”
“Dumbledore.” She greets, eyeing him up as he stays sat in his chair, waiting for her to come to him.
Cocky bastard.
“Sorry to keep you Miss Evans, I know you have somewhere to be-“ his twinkly eyes dart in Emmelies direction who is stood by the door waiting for Lily.
“It’s fine.” She responds curtly, allowing some semblance of respect to make its way through, keep the old man at bay.
“I was merely… curious,” his eyes twinkle again that infuriating twinkle that never seems to go away, “as to where your friends are?”
“My friends, sir?”
“Mr Lupin, Pettigrew, Miss Meadows, McKinnon and McDonald.”
“Ah, yeah they aren’t coming.”
“I figured as such, care to tell me why?”
“They don’t want to be involved in your war anymore, changed their minds.”
“And you didn’t?”
“No, we are different people after all.” She bites out, a little harsher than originally intended.
“Indeed,” he smiles once more, a deceptively kind smile, “I guess I simply assumed them to have closer beliefs to your own.”
“Yeah well, you know what they say about your assumptions, they’re just well credited theories,” a pause, “besides, I think they’re being who they always were.”
“Well you would know better than I.”
“Yes,” she eyes him up slowly, surely he wanted more than this, he could’ve assumed they weren’t coming by their absence alone, why did he want to talk to her too? “I would.”
They stand there in silence for a moment, and when it seems her old headmaster has nothing left to say, she stalks off towards the door, Emmeline following after her to reach the apparition point and head to Malfoy Manor.
Once they feel the rush of magic fall over them, leaving them behind, they turn to each other, Emmeline- who has the co-ordinates written on paper in her hand- places her other hand gently on Lilys forearm before a tug pulls behind her navel and she feels herself being whisked away through the darkness.
When she falls out of the turning sensation, Emmeline still at her side, she stumbles forward slightly, before an arm darts out to grab her and hold her steady.
Lily, still getting used to apparition, supposes it makes sense, given the fact she is just out of school, and therefore only ever really has had time to practice her apparition the summer and Christmas holidays of last year, is a bit rusty.
Emmeline on the other hand, who Lily remembers leaving Hogwarts last year, seems to be well acquainted with apparition, landing gracefully on the grass, even managing to hold up another person after the sickening twists and turns of wizard travel.
“Careful,” the other girl laughs, her eyes a soft green that dance with humour at Lilys stumble before her, finally letting go once she seems to have deemed Lily to have adequately stabilised herself, moving her hand instead to brush a lock of long brown hair out of her face.
“Still not quite used to apparating, feels dizzy like a roller coaster.” Lily admits, smiling back at the other girl, a soft laugh of her own falling out, to her memory Emmeline was a Ravenclaw, so Lily didn’t know her very well, Pandora might, she’d have to ask her what she was like.
“Does it?” Emmeline asks, turning around to look at where they landed, before glancing back at Lily to finish her statement, “I wouldn't know.”
“Oh, are you a pureblood? I thought-“
“No,” the other girl laughed, dropping her head slightly, “no I’m a half-blood, and I have been to theme parks, just never on a rollercoaster.”
“How?” Lily yells in a soft whisper, still trying to remain quiet, conscious of where they were meant to have landed, but so shocked by the news she can’t help but leave her eyes on the other girls face, stopping herself from assessing what’s going on around them.
“Just never particularly fancied it.”
“Lies, everyone fancies rollercoasters.”
“Not me, though I will admit I’m curious.”
“Well now I definitely have to get you on a rollercoaster.” Lily laughed, slightly louder than she intended.
“Shh,” the dark haired girl chastised quickly, though there was no real venom in her tone, “we’ll see.” She added as an afterthought, almost to appease Lily.
At that conclusion, Lily finally took it as a moment to look around, spinning slightly until her gaze landed where Emmeline’s gaze had landed before, and well- it’s pretty hard to miss, even with how far away they are
The Malfoy Manor is a huge building, towering and tall making anyone nearby, even those at such a distance away as Emmeline and Lily, feel like ants beside it.
It has a new/old quality to it, almost how Lily imagined a modern version of the house of Black would be- despite the boys’ stories to the contrary- except it was all white.
She turned back to Emmeline, who's gaze had also been locked on the great manor in front of them, a questioning look in her eye.
"So what exactly are we mean to be doing here?"
"Oh yeah," the other girl laughed slightly, "You're new, you haven't don't stake outs before have you?"
"Not unless you call staking out my sisters room when she had friends over a stakeout." she tries joking, but felt her eyes go dim at the mention of her sister, any happiness Emmeline had given her back since her conversation with Dumbledore gone in mere seconds.
"I mean... Technically, you did stake out, so yeah, I'll give it to you." she can hear the girls joking tone, knows she's trying to lighten her mood, probably senses Lily's soul dying inside her as they speak.
"Great, in that case Emmeline," she turned her body to fully look at the other girl, "I am fully prepared to stake out this stake out with you."
Emmeline’s eyebrows furrowed quickly, "That would mean we're staking out ourselves?"
"Oh."
"Hey, I don't mind, I'm sure we're very interesting," she pauses for a moment considering, "or I am at least."
Another laugh, "I'm sure you are."
"So," lily drags out the word before continuing, "stakeout?"
"Right," Emmeline claps her hands, a loud sound reverberating out around them causing them both to wince, flinching at the sudden sound and cringing inwards, "it's really rather simply, we watch and take notes of those who go in, out-"
"Shake it all about?"
A laugh, "precisely."
"And how long is our shift?"
"8hrs, but you can leave whenever, it's only meant to be one person at a time but Moody clearly had some issues with you, wanted to assert dominance and all that shit. That's the reason you're here. "
"You don't say."
"He just doesn't like to be questioned," as Lily opened her mouth to protest, explain exactly why that is so fucked up, Emmeline quickly raised a hand to pre-emptively cut her off so she could keep speaking, "I know, I know, it's shit. But in this war you take what you can get and this is the only opposition that you can get to death eaters, the ministry too but they're corrupt and so not really... Dependable." she added mock jazz hands on the last word, as if disappointed by the truth even if she is the one who had to say it.
"It could be better."
"Maybe, if you find a way, let me know." she smiled weakly.
Huh.
And then she turned away, missing the way Lily had opened her mouth to speak, missing the way she closed it again, taking the chance to back out of the offer she had for Emmeline on the tip of her tongue.
She'd have to keep an eye on this.
Remus’ Pov-
Waiting all night for your friend to return home from a meeting with a man all of your friends have turned on due to a lack of trust, well that is peak stress.
Remus has endured full moons every month for 13 years. He has faced NEWTS and Owls, he has watched his friend- now boyfriend- betray him to an enemy. He has watched his friends join the death eaters.
Remus’ entire life has been pain recurring, and for some stupid reason because of that he didn’t think the war would be as much of a shock to the system as it was, fuck, his friends were already joining the death eaters whilst still on the school grounds, and somehow that little bit of space, that distance in the war between himself and it, Hogwarts walls? Even with people being recruited inside it was a buffer he didn’t realise he had.
That is until Lily went to an order meeting without any friends, any back-up. And it’s not that he thinks Dumbledore is a threat threat. Not in the way Voldemort it, but it’s been just over 9 hours since she left and she hasn’t come back.
And to say he’s a little tense, well that’s a bit of an understatement. His irritation levels are nearing the level they usually are a week before the moon. Fuck, even his own breathing is getting too loud. But he can’t help it, he’s pissed, he breathes loud, he gets more pissed off. He wants to punch a wall.
It’s a viscous, viscous cycle that Remus fears will only stop at Lilys arrival.
Thankfully at that exact moment, just as Remus is really considering giving up and beating up the wall in front of him, the front door opens.
“Hey moons.” Comes Peter's voice, cheerful as ever, as if they’re not in the middle of a fucking war, it only causes Remus to seethe more.
He doesn’t reply, choosing instead to take in another deep breath, hoping it’ll be one that doesn’t make him want to break something, murder someone, destroy everything.
“Remus,” the other boy tried again, slightly quieter this time, and Remus can hear him slowly edging towards him, “you ok?”
“Mhmm.” He forces out, trying to get a response out was like cutting wood with a needle.
“Where’s Lily?” he hears Peters question for what it is, trying to divert the topic, but it hit a nail Remus didn’t know was hanging in front of his face right through his skull, a piercing pain and he clenches on the coffee mug he was holding, the ceramic smashing under his wolf grip, the cup full of cold coffee pooling over his hands, seeping over the side and falling onto the floor.
“Shit,” and Peter is running before Remus can stop him, sinking to the floor to pick up broken coffee cup shards, “is she still not back?”
“No.” Remus bites out, of course, of course Peter has noticed her absence too, they all live together. Ever since they dropped out of school, before they even decided to ditch Dumbledore, back when everyone still had faith in James and Sirius, the 8 of them decided to move in together.
Joining the war is a risk, a big one, and staying at home, living with all of their families, some of which don’t want them in the war, some of which are muggles- clueless to the war going on thanks to their kids keeping their lips sealed, well it wasn't a very practical plan.
So they all came to the conclusion that it would be safest to keep their families out of it, leaving them behind, sticking together, kind of like a frat house from all those muggle movies Remus watched with his mum as a kid, but instead of beer and kegs, it's fighting and death.
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon?” Peter tries, the lack of confidence in his voice worrying, nothing has happened to any of them yet, there has been no attacks when they leave the house, no deaths of people close to them, and it was only Lilys first order meeting so she has had nothing for them to go to as back-up so far, and the boys have no inside reports from the death eaters, and yet, they’re all already on edge from this whole situation, just waiting for something to go wrong.
For someone to not come home.
“Yeah, m’ sure she will Pete.”
They settled into a soft silence, Peter wrapping up the shards he collected from the floor before casting a quick scourgify over the floor to clean up the lingering coffee.
“I’m going to make you a new pot.”
“Oh, you don’t need-“
“Remus, you barely touched the first one, the coffee made a lake on the floor, I’m going to make you another one.”
“OK.” And for some reason that calmed him, just Peter lingering around, being here. One of his friends with him, it was, simply put, a comforting presence. And Remus found himself breathing peacefully.
In and out, in and out, in, out, in, out.
And his breathing finally wasn’t grating at his ears.
He could just breathe.
A little while later he finally lifted his head back off of the table, apparently having dozed off, to the sound of a door slamming open.
He jerked his heads around to the side at the same time Marlenes voice (who had apparently come in at some point and was now stood next to Peter), filled his ear.
“Hey Lils.”
“Lily?” he heard his voice break slightly, before he coughed, covering it up as he quickly got out of his chair, making space next to him on the table for Lily to sit down with him, ignoring the fact that there were plenty other chairs around him.
His mind was fuzzy, cloudy from the sleep that unconsciously took him and he was just too glad to see Lily back and safe within arm’s reach.
“Hey, how is everyone?” the redhead asked, smiling around at the group despite the obvious lingering tiredness on her eyes, she let her eyes linger a second longer on Remus, her hand brushing his arm, rubbing it slightly before hovering there a while longer, a comforting touch she seemed to notice he needed.
“Fine, what took you so long?”
“Stake out business with the order, I had to leave straight from the meeting so I didn’t have time to warn you, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, couldn’t you have sent a patronus?”
“Not unless I wanted Dumbledore to freak on me for telling people order business, he’s already pissed enough that you guys left.” She fills in slowly, lifting the cup Peter just poured her to her lips, sipping from the cup and visibly sagging in relief at the caffeine hit after her supposedly long night.
“What?” Marlene yelled out slightly, frustration radiating out of her voice.
“Oh its’s fine, just means I can’t tell you where I’m going at the drop of a hat.” She lets a forceful smile fill her face as she sip on some more of her coffee, before dropping the cup down, apparently having downed it all in mere seconds, before she turns around, looking to Remus, “Rem?”
“Yeah?” he asks, confused, furrowing his brow as he watches her get up, twisting around in the seat to grab his arm and stalk off into the basement they had installed when they bought the house- magic is really helpful, “Where are you going?”
“Potions lab, Dumbledore needs some potions for the order.”
“I thought you liked to brew alone?” comes Marlenes questioning voice from where she is still leaning next to the stove.
“I do, but I’m exhausted, and I need someone to make sure I don’t fall asleep at the cauldron, or mix up cinnamon with wormwood or something.” A nonchalant shrug.
“Sure,” Remus scrambled quickly after her, “yeah lets go.”
As they make their way to the cellar, Lily holds open the door for him to walk past, following him down the steps, he turns around to watch as she quickly locked the door behind them, casting a quick muffliato around the room, before sinking into the chair behind a cauldron.
Once seated he overhears her muttering a subtle aguamenti, watches the water flood out of her wand in the steady stream, before she flicks it once more-cutting of the water supply- and turns on the flames, slumping onto the table, twisting her head to look at him as she waits for the cauldron to bubble.
“So what potions do you need to make?”
“Hmm?” Lily responds, half muffled by her own arm, apparently on the verge of drifting off.
“For Dumbledore? What potions does he need you to make?”
“Oh,” lily looked up finally, her eyes half shut, “he doesn’t need potions.”
“But you just said-“
“Yeah, because I needed to talk to you.”
“But, you’re.. boiling the pot?”
“Yeah, you’ve got to make your lies believable moony, your bad lies are the reason I know about the moons.”
“Wait-“
“Besides, we’re entering a war, it’s always good to have potions on hand.”
“You need to sleep.” Remus tried to protest slowly, moving towards her, now that he knew the potions weren't urgent all he could really focus on was the way her eyes seemed like magnets, the lids constantly trying to fall down, close towards her cheeks, keep her eyes shut away so she can rest.
“No, I don’t,” she responds quickly, finally getting up now that the cauldron had boiled and starting to mix ingredients into it, “Besides I want to talk before I forget.”
“Talk?”
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
“What I heard at the meeting, we need to record everything, in case it’s useful one day, in case Regulus can use it.”
“Ok, ok so what do you-“
“I’m going to brew and talk, then you are going to write, then we are going to make sure there is no information from that meeting that will reveal our plans with the boys, there shouldn’t be, but you can never be too careful.” she rattles off the plan like a drill sergeant, and Remus is reminded once more why it is her he chose to follow into this war.
“Ok,” Remus nodded, “Ok, ok yeah talk.”
“Right-“
“And then you sleep.”
He watches as the redhead rolled her eyes, but he doesn’t move, he holds firm, and Lily quickly concedes, “Fine.”
And so, they begin.
“Ok,” Remus tries, recapping the list in front of him towards the end where Lily's memory might be a bit fuzzy from sleep deprivation, “so was it Fabian or Gideon that was staking out the Black house?”
“Gideon.” Is the only reply he gets, her eyes still closed before they whip open, “wait no, Fabian, Gideon was the one on back-up duty.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I mean, I think so.”
“Lily.” he tries, sighing slightly.
“They’re essentially the same person, let’s just put them both down for both, I’ll remember when I’m awake.” Lily all but slurs, stirring another ingredient into a potion so easy she could make it in her sleep- which is really good considering he thinks she might have to in a minute.
“Alright,” Remus conceded slowly, choosing not to bring up the fact that Pandora and Evan are also twins and could not be more different- unless of course you suggest they're the same, in that case (from what Regulus said) they would be remarkably similar in attacking you, “Frank was at the Lestrange’s place and you and Emmeline at Malfoy Manor?”
“Uh huh, I wasn’t meant to be there but Moody apparently hates people with an opinion.”
“What?” he furrows his brow, looking over his notes as he watches Lily rub over her own.
“He’s as bad as Dumbledore.” is all she adds to her previous statement, clearly deeming that explanation enough.
“Right.”
“Remus-“
“Yes Lils?”
“I fear you aren’t taking this seriously.”
“No, I am. I just still think you should go to sleep, we can go over this in the morning.”
“It is the morning.” she protests stubbornly, in a frightening reflection of Regulus, and what he assumes other people would say he's like too.
“Lils.”
“Fine, fine. We’ll go over it later, there wasn’t much to cover anyway, they don’t like to recap old missions too much, so as a new recruit I was kind of lost in this meeting. But," and she turns to look at him at this point, the tiredness in her eyes still not enough to undercut the glare she's giving him, "I don’t think Mr sleep deprived should be advising me on my sleep schedule.”
“Haha.” He rolled his eyes, completely monotone, “I don’t have a bpyfriend around to monitor my sleep patterns anymore.”
“If Sirius was in charge of your sleep I am even more concerned than I was before.” She states drily, humour twinkling in her tired eyes.
“You love me.”
“That I do, sadly that I do.”
They both laugh at that, bending over in stitches if laughter, the sleep deprivation of a long stake out and waiting for the other to return home finally catching up with them both.
“Right,” Lily says, gathering her bearings and switching of the cauldron to let the potions settle, “bed.”
Pandoras Pov-
The books were starting to pile up, all around her like Pillars of a castle caging her in in her own living room so she can’t see 5 feet in front of her own face.
And it wasn’t just that, the extensive list of notes and page numbers and theories she’d written were left covering her legs, removing half of her body from sight as she picks up another book, starting to flick through it, hoping this one wont be as useless as the last.
All information is good information, all information will be useful one day, a fun joke, a life saving fact. But Reg wont be happy about communication necklaces and blood boiling rings when he comes by for information on horcruxes, she knows just how stressed he is, and it’s only been 4 days since they all came home, seeing him on the 2nd day, when he deposited her with all the books he did, she could see him retreating into his perfectly crafted family shell whilst trying to put on a façade of not doing so. And she wants to work quicker to get this war done with.
She sees him falling into the very thing she wanted to avoid by staying out of this war, and now she is locked up anyway trying to save him from the very fate he is trying to save her from. They are both living their own nightmares, whilst trying to save the other from what they themselves fear.
An infinite loop of pain and love.
So, she dives back in the books, taking in all the information in case any are accidentally useful, all the while skimming the supposedly ‘Reg certified’ unimportant information slightly faster.
She looks manic, she knows she does, her hair is plastered in a bun on top of her head, pieces and whisps of her hair fraying to and fro, almost as if she had set off another of her bombs, not that she had been wasting away on the couch for 2 days pouring over books.
To anyone else the sight of her would be deeply concerning, especially considering some of the exceptionally dark book titles Reg had managed to find for her, that she was using as stools and coasters for her plentiful supply of glasses and mugs, but she knew that wasn’t a problem, the house is locked up tight, courtesy once again of Regulus who seems crazily paranoid about her safety.
There are so many spells on the house, so many variations of a multitude of wards, that Pandora is surprised the magic hasn’t suffocated her, knocked her out, weighed down on her chest until she can’t move.
Not that she doesn’t appreciate the protection, but the sheer level of it, the skill of that boy, it’s just making her once again feel like she is wasting her life away in hiding, exactly what she never wanted to do.
She is going about this war exactly how she always planned to, on neither side, researching and helping none the less. She just didn’t want to do it all from hiding.
It was merely her promise to Reg that kept her within these walls.
So she works harder, she delves deeper.
She told Lily she wouldn’t be too cynical, that she would keep up hope, and as nice as this house is, as much as she has made it her own, painting the walls with flowers, and fingerpainting’s, artistic brush strokes reflecting galaxies, it is still her prison, and she doesn’t want to be a complete cynic.
She wants to enjoy life, make bombs with Barty, experiment with Reg, fight with Evan, gossip and plot with Dorcas, quiz with the other Ravenclaws.
She wants the hope she is fighting for, and so, aiming in the complete opposite way, she delves back into studying, into the theories.
After 2 days, she find something.
Something a bit more concrete.
Something to back up her theories, she would say it was too soon, too quick for something so crucial in this war, but these are all books Regulus has already gone through once before, ones he deems relevant.
Her looking through them is simply another set of eyes.
Simply looking for evidence to back up her theories.
Horcruxes
Horcruxes are one of the darkest pieces of magic currently discovered.
Many wizards have spent years investigating their magic and researching numerous different ways to gain immortality, achieving such deemed by many the ‘Peak of Wizardry’ however, other than the Philosophers Stone, it is proven that the only way to loose ones mortality is through forms of dark magic, including splitting the soul.
There are not many documented cases of Horcruxes being created. With very few Wizards and witches alike managing to successfully complete the deeply complex process.
One recorded case, and the first one of public knowledge, came from Thomas Richardson in the early 1600’s, who managed to succeed in creating a singular horcrux, thus splitting his soul in half.
2 other people successfully followed in Richardsons steps within the following 2 centuries. And only one tried to go beyond splitting the soul twice.
Elizabeth Crowton born. 1846 decided to experiment creating a secondary horcrux after the first, and thus succeeded in being the first recorded case of splitting your soul more than once.
And oh, oh that’s interesting.
Pandora leafed through the previous notes she’d written, all scattered over her lap in no form of organisation, she can picture Regulus squirming at the mess and laughs slightly, and after a couple minutes she finds one of the first notes she took and places it up and next to the book.
Yes, her original theory was that Voldemort had indeed made multiple horcruxes.
When Regulus first suggested Voldemort had made multiple, of course she had asked for his reasoning, creating many horcruxes is a great feat and not one to be taken lightly, yet apparently this theory had all stemmed from Kreacher, Regulus’ house elf.
House elves naturally have a lot more power than people like to acknowledge, they can break through wards, track people intrinsically, all of this magic is immediately diluted when they are born into servitude, their free will being stripped, leaving their ‘owners’ in charge of how much power they can truly have.
And owners of house elves don’t often use the elves to their full advantage, because it would mean admitting they are more powerful beings than the Wizards, and if there’s one things most Witches and Wizards agree on, it’s a need for feeling powerful, above.
So, the raw power house elves have, along with the fact that people so rarely care for their elves, lead Voldemort to greatly underestimate Kreacher, and therefore Regulus.
Voldemort didn’t expect a follower of his to order house elves back, to nurse them back to health when they are on the brink of death.
Didn’t expect them to care.
But Regulus cared, and that’s how he got so much power in this war.
Because knowledge is power, at least to Pandora.
So accumulating the power Kreacher has, along with the fact that Regulus cares about him and therefore kept him protected from, well death, meant gaining a lot more insight into Voldemort than he had probably prepared for.
After Kreacher came back from the cave and had recuperated, he apparently told Regulus about the whole experience in detail.
Apparently the locket (the horcrux), had felt like Voldemort to Kreacher.
All magical people have traces on their magic (hence the trace being so easy to create for minor Wizards and Witches) and the older they get the weaker the trace on them becomes. However the trace isn’t simply a tracker of magic, it is created by a distinct set of magical DNA, of personality, each intertwined into ones own personal brand of magic.
Which means powerful beings such as house elves (When allowed), can recognise other beings simply by the trace of their magic.
And Kreacher did so on the locket, he felt the darkness surrounding it, the chilling feeling that any person with magical blood would be able to feel, but he felt beyond that, he felt the exact trace, the exact magical signature of Voldemort on the locket.
So, using this information, knowing the locket is connected to Voldemort, a part of him, his magical core, his soul, he realised they were horcruxes.
And not only did he find that out, but the fact that a horcrux is a soul split in half means , in theory, the locket should emit just as strong a sense of Voldemort’s magical signature as the man himself.
And according to Kreacher it didn’t, it was stronger.
Meaning there had to be more than one horcrux created, and it was Pandoras job to figure out just how many.
With historical records proving that one could indeed make more than one horcrux, and Kreacher’s sensing of the magic, many people would conclude Voldemort must have also made two.
However, Pandora understands power hungry men, heard Regulus explaining just how strong this mans ego was, and being average, meeting a standard already set, well that was most likely deemed below him.
So 3, but then that is a mere one horcrux above the previous ‘winner’, that wouldn’t be enough for someone with an ego complex as large as Voldemort himself.
So she looked into the meaning of different numbers- excluding the first three- a man who is so obsessed with blood purity and the magic within the world would care about magical meaning within numbers, a view of a chance towards additional protection.
4, is about calmness and solidity, ripping ones soul in half isn’t very solid, it would feel counterintuitive, a risk to stop at 4.
5, is about adventure and freedom, he wants control, he wants structure, order, all created by himself. Freedom is exactly what he is trying to strip from himself, couldn’t be 4.
6, is connected to intuition and equality, that’s almost a laughable suggestion.
But 7, 7 is about luck and perfection. 7 is everywhere, it’s in the days of the weeks, the continents, it’s connected to spiritual awakening, it grounds you into the earth where the magic is sourced form, it could be viewed as a source of strength.
So 7, 7 will do.
But then comes the debate of how he uses 7, does he split his soul into 7, does he want 7 objects?.
Is it 7 pieces of a soul and 6 objects?
Or is it 7 objects and 8 pieces of the soul?
Voldemort is using the locket of The Salazar Slytherin, to imbed his soul into, an important artifact of history, an important part of what he most likely deems his history.
He is probably looking for objects of sentimental or powerful value, objects he can deem to have a connection to himself.
Instead off putting your soul into a coin and throwing it into the sea, impossible to find, impossible to seek, he is only using beautiful, respected pieces of history ( or at least that is what Pandora assumes will be the trend, meaning his priority is his soul.
He wants the magic to be a part of him, more than these objects, if it was 7 pieces, 7 items, the power of 7 would not reach his soul it would be cut off at 8.
So 7 soul pieces, in 6 objects.
It’s a lot to get through, but it’s a number, it’s a start.
She wraps up her reading, content that the books wouldn’t provide her with information on what Voldemort would put his soul into.
Although there is minimum research into the topic at hand, there is nothing to suggest that there are objects off limits, and even if it was, Voldemort would probably just view it as more of a chance to prove himself.
So these books are no longer necessary, she complies them slowly, one by one, carrying them off to the library to re-stack the shelves placed there, all a mahogany wood, it stretches long, covering the walls of the room.
She wants to fill them with literature, book nooks, hidden tunnels.
She wants this place to be one of her own creation, she wants to experiment and live, even hidden away.
She is sure she could snatch this house off Regulus when this is all over, have it as a nice place to herself.
She’s on her third lap of bringing books into the library- the muggle way, while harder feels more natural and kind during this war, with all the dark magic she is imbuing her mind with- when she starts pondering over the theories she’s created once more.
7 splits of the soul.
50/50
50/25/25
50/25/12.5/12.5
50/25/12.5/6.25/6.25
50/25/12.5/6.25/3.125/3.125
50/25/12.5/6.25/3.125/1.5625/1.5625
If he split his soul more than 7 times, the soul piece left in his body would be less than 1%.
And although he would still be immortal, although another split should theoretically not be able to kill him, it could destroy him.
Destroying and killing are two very different things.
One could play under the illusion of another, lull people into a false sense of security, cloaks and daggers, until the threat returns in full throttle.
He wouldn’t do 8, he wouldn’t do 7 horcruxes it’s too much of a risk.
Admittedly the whole thing is very interesting to Pandora, a series of poorly made decisions with interesting magic.
And she can’t help thinking she could do it better, you could split your soul into a lot more pieces if you figured out how to do it all in one go.
It would be 7 equal pieces instead of the soul left in your body getting weaker each time.
7 pieces at 14.285714 recurring.
You could make more than 7 pieces, you could, for example, make 8.
Beat him at his own game.
And you’d be in less danger than he ever was.
She keeps packing up the books, clearing up the living room and tidying away her mind, happy with her findings that she kept in a little notebook in her living room, cluttered with defensive spells- Regulus’ paranoia hitting her slightly despite the once again, extensive wards that she did indeed add too.
And she heads off to the kitchen, settling down with a cup of tea to poor over her own book, fantasy this time, she needs a break, even if her head is constantly filled with fantasies of her own.