Truth and Lies
For 274 seconds, Kahlen stood frozen next to Remus’s hospital bed.
In her dazed state, it took her 1083 seconds to call her friends and surviving members of the Order and instruct them to meet at Potter Manor.
1619 seconds later, Kahlen paced across her drawing room, eyes flickering to the Floo as she waited for everyone to arrive. Her feet were sore, her chest aching from her uneven breaths as she scratched the back of her hand until it felt raw. It was a habit she’d picked up years ago, running her nails across the scarred words when she became too anxious, trying to pull her attention back to the present. Her mind kept going in circles, trying to solve a puzzle without any pieces.
How could the Death Eaters be back? It didn’t make any sense. She thought they’d captured all of them and sent them all to Azkaban. There were the odd few, like the Bulstrodes, who had claimed they were Imperioused and gotten away. As soon as she thought that, Kahlen scoffed. No, the Bulstrodes and others like them were all too cowardly to lead a revolution. So the question remained: who are these new Death Eaters, and who is their leader?
The skin on the back of her hand was ruby red by the time everyone arrived. She breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione came through first, throwing herself into her best friend’s open arm. Hermione held her and gently stroked her hair as the others followed, allowing Kahlen to calm down enough to hold a decent discussion without passing out.
Everyone settled into the numerous couches and chairs decorating the vast space. Despite its size, the room was designed to feel homey. The windows let in plenty of light through the ivy growing up the stone walls, kept in check by Kahlen’s bossy house elf, Ditty. The fireplace that connected to the Floo Network was lit, a gentle blaze crackling under the portrait of Lily and James Potter that Kahlen had placed when she first moved in. The furniture was a mix of reds and browns, leather and linen and velvet that came together to create a space as chaotic and comfortable as the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. Kahlen had often wondered which had been designed first, but it was impossible to know. The Potters were always sorted into Gryffindor, so it seemed likely that the house influenced the design, and vice versa.
Though there was space to sit, Kahlen remained standing as she faced her friends. Hermione and Ron, who were aware of the Lupin's attack, watched her with worry from a loveseat. Kingsley was also informed of the attack but his attention was elsewhere, scanning the room from his seat and avoiding eye contact. Kahlen might have found it odd if she hadn’t been distracted by Luna’s strange headdress, which had also caught the attention of Ginny, Neville, and George who sat with the blonde witch. The rest of the Weasley clan was spread across two couches, with Fleur and Bill holding hands and leaning into one another. The sight made her smile, but it also filled her with a sense of longing she couldn’t explain. Instead of thinking about it too long, Kahlen forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand.
Draco –sitting alone and pointedly ignoring George trying to cast a wrinkling charm on his pristine robes– seemed to have the same thought.
“Potter,” he drawled, “could you please tell us why you’ve called us here? Preferably before I have to hex Weasley for messing with clothes that cost more than him.” He turned to find George looking anywhere but at him, innocently whistling as though his life depended on it.
A bit of tension released from Kahlen’s shoulders as she huffed out a laugh before turning serious again.
“The Lupins were attacked.” She said it quickly, then closed her eyes against the shocked and worried faces of her friends. Those who hadn’t known asked questions all at once, talking over one another until Bill demanded they allow Kahlen to explain.
After being attacked by Greyback in the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, Remus had taken the man under his wing. Though Greyback was not transformed at the time, protecting Bill from turning into a full werewolf, the wounds he’d suffered had some wolf-like side effects that Remus was able to ease. Hearing that his mentor had been attacked made Bill appear the perfect mixture of nausea and anger.
Looking back at the group, Kahlen did her best to explain that Remus, Tonks and Teddy had been attacked in muggle London, but that Teddy and Tonks were unharmed and Remus would be out of the hospital in a few days, once the healers were sure he’d recovered.
Molly seemed to realize she’d left out an important detail, asking, “But who attacked them, Kalhen?”
She took a deep breath, already anticipating the uproar her answer would cause.
“They were attacked by Death Eaters.”
Silence.
Then her intuition proved true. Every one of them stood, outraged at the fact that their enemies seemed to have returned, despite their total defeat months prior. They spoke to each other, trying to come to terms with this new information while Kahlen watched, rubbing her forehead in an attempt to stave off her imminent headache. Finally, she took a seat, the others following her lead over the next few minutes as they slightly calmed. Silence blanketed them for several minutes, broken by George, his eyes boring into the floor.
“Are you sure?” He asked. If it were anyone else Kahlen might have been offended. Of course she was sure! She wouldn’t go around telling people that Death Eaters were back without good reason, and anyone who knew her should surely understand that!
But the way George asked made it clear he believed her. He was resigned to the fact that it was true, that the people who had stolen his twin were back and hurting more people he cared about. He needed to hear her confirm, but even so she hated to be the one to turn him into the broken, grieving man he became when he thought too hard about the war and what it had cost him.
“I’m sure,” she finally responded, blinking away tears as she watched him fold into himself, withdrawing from this harsh new reality she’d brought into his life.
“It’s true,” Kingsley confirmed. As the Minister for Magic, he often spoke with importance and seriousness when addressing the public, but with those he considered friends, his words carried underlying sadness. “This…” he hesitated, grimacing slightly before continuing. “This is the third attack in as many weeks. Fortunately there have been no casualties, but images taken during the attacks confirmed the attackers wore Death Eater’s robes. The Ministry is keeping a lid on it for now in order to keep the public from panicking, but—”
“WHAT?!” Kahlen exploded, standing again as her sudden rage propelled her. “You’re telling me that there have been three separate attacks in the last three weeks and you’re covering it up?”
“We’re trying to avoid mass panic,” he explained quickly. “If the public knew about this there would be an uproar.” His defence barely registered with Kahlen as she took several steps toward the man, jabbing her finger in his direction as she spoke.
“That is exactly the type of thinking that allowed Voldemort to become so powerful!” A few of her friends flinched at the name, but she soldiered on, overwhelmed by the range and intensity of emotions she’d been forced to endure today. “I warned the Ministry that he had returned and instead of preparing people for war you called me a liar for months! People died, Kingsley! Because you refused to frighten the public, even as their friends were attacked and businesses were burned to the ground. And now you’re doing the exact same thing! Have you learned nothing?” She was seething, barely feeling Hermione’s calming hands rubbing slow circles on her shoulders.
“He wasn’t in charge then, Kallie,” she said softly. “He had no say in the matter, you know that.”
She did, of course, but she was still so angry.
“But he was working there. He saw what Voldemort was doing, he knows that hiding things doesn’t help, and yet he’s doing it anyway, repeating history.” She was no longer yelling, but her anger continued to suffocate the room.
“Ms. Potter, please, let me explain.” Unable to speak for fear she would scream, Kahlen merely gave him a sharp nod. “Everyone is on edge from the war. People are grieving, rebuilding, trying to focus on a brighter future. I can’t in good conscience release this information until they become a real threat. As of right now, these new Death Eaters have not killed anyone and their motives and numbers are unknown. We will continue to investigate and try to apprehend them before they truly cause any harm, but until that moment I will not cause the entirety of the Wizarding World to think that Voldemort has returned.”
Evaluating his reasons, Kahlen could see why he made the decision he had, but she was still unable to fully separate the idea of him and Cornelius Fudge making the same mistakes. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, but she knew her trust in Kingsley had begun to waver.
“Fine,” she finally relented, trying to shake off the rest of her anger so they could focus on something more productive.
“What about these new Death Eaters?” Arthur suggested, his gentle voice returning the group’s attention to the unknowns. “Any idea who could be involved?”
Kingsley shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. All known Death Eaters are either dead or in Azkaban.”
“Are you certain?” Ginny asked, having been kept from most of the fighting and not knowing the identities of most of their rivals.
“Avery, Dolohov, the Carrow twins, and my worthless father are all rotting in Azkaban, while the Lestranges, Yaxley, Mulciber, and Crabbe and Goyle Sr. are all dead,” Draco explained. As a former Death Eater turned spy, he knew the major players of Voldemort’s organisation better than any of them.
“What about Crabbe and Goyle?” Ron’s cheeks tinted pink before he amended, “I mean, our Crabbe and Goyle.”
Draco snorted. “Those two couldn’t… What's that muggle phrase Granger? Pour milk out of a trainer with instructions on the sole?”
Hermione laughed. “It’s ‘pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel.’”
“Like I said,” Draco nodded. “They couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel, much less lead an organization. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were involved somehow. They always were bumbling fools,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“We’ve been tracking individuals who were accused of being Death Eaters during the war and were not convicted,” Kingsley explained, “but so far none have done anything suspicious enough to warrant an arrest.”
Though still avoiding eye contact with him, Kahlen responded, “I’m more worried about who’s in charge.”
“Unfortunately we’re still unsure,” Kingsley said, clearing his throat to try dispelling some of the awkwardness. “These were taken during the previous attacks,” he said while reaching into his coat to pull out several photos. Though slightly blurry, the images moved, showing the previous attacks in some detail. No faces were shown aside from the terrified ones of the victims, the Death Eaters all draped in pitch black robes and identities hidden by grotesque metal masks. As Kahlen examined the photos she had to remind herself that these people were all unharmed and safe, despite them screaming at her and pleading for their lives.
“Why are they so blurry?” Neville asked, passing one on and blanching at the burning house now in his hands.
“The first two attacks were against muggleborns. The photos were taken from muggle street cameras when we erased the evidence of the attacks from the muggle’s databases,” Kingsley explained. “We enhanced them with magic, but there is only so much that can be done.”
Swallowing back the pity and helplessness these photos brought, Kahlen examined one of the clearer ones. She’d almost passed it on to Luna when she caught it. Yanking it back to herself and stealing a few from those nearest her, she frantically searched and hoped she’d be proven wrong. Unfortunately, Kahlen never got what she wanted, because in every image, the Death Eater’s robes had a new addition on the sleeve that hadn’t been there during the war, a symbol she’d only seen once while researching Tony Stark and the Avengers.
“Hermione,” she mumbled, so quietly the girl didn’t hear her. “Hermione!” Snapping her head up in concern, Hermione followed Kahlen’s line of sight and sucked in a breath when she saw it, confirming Kahlen’s worst fears.
“That… that can’t be,” Hermione stuttered, taking the photos from Kahlen’s hands which were quickly replaced by her head.
Of course this happens to me, she thought bitterly.
“What is it?” Ginny asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Hermione looked up, grimacing at her friend’s poor fortunes. “This symbol,” she explained, pointing to the robes. “It’s a Hydra. Which means…” She trailed off, turning back to Kahlen as she finally steeled her resolve, knowing what had to be done.
“It means I know whose help we need.”