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If you draw a circle of people with an ounce of logic, and a circle of people who are wizards, the two circles won’t intersect by much. And, as all Aurors are by definition wizards, the following conclusion can be gleaned: most Aurors don’t have an ounce of logic.

Alex Danvers isn’t like most wizards, and she certainly isn’t like most Aurors.

When a slew of curious cases spring up, of magical creatures struck dead all over the country, the Aurors and lawkeepers employed by the Ministry of Magic do what they do best. They catalogue each individual incident, use spells to suss out the last curses used on the beasts, and employ tracking charms to see if they can hound down whoever had been last in the vicinity of the deaths.

While they efficiently come up with dead end after dead end, Alex sends out owls to the rest of Europe, tracking down the frequency of occurences of similar incidents over time and place. Whatever pattern she finds in the course of her research, causes her to send out a series of mysterious communications to the United States, through something that she tells her mystified magical colleagues is “e-mail”.

Such a course of action will seem unusual for a witch to follow, unless one remembers that Alex had been born to Muggleborn parents, who had emphasized the importance of a Muggle education concurrently with her schooling at Hogwarts. This anomaly of an upbringing had produced a witch who could discuss the tenets of frequentist probability as adroitly as she could discuss the five principal exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, and come up with mathematical proof of the square root of two being irrational as easily as she could cast a charm of middling difficulty.

In any case, both Alex and her methods are odd, and her colleagues are used to that. As a result, none of them find it very odd that, whatever reply Alex gets back from America for the messages she had sent out, causes her to suddenly request a vacation and disappear off the face of the earth, only to resurface a continent away a few days later, stepping off an airplane at the JFK Airport in New York City.

---

By law, wizards arriving into New York City from international destinations are required to check in with the wand permit office of the Magical Congress of the United States (MACUSA). By long-standing tradition, high ranking Ministry employees like Aurors are also supposed to check in with their counterparts at MACUSA afterward, to apprise them on the purpose of their visit.

A 9am sharp, Alex strides into MACUSA headquarters, and checks in with the rather harried clerk manning the wand permit office. Ten minutes later, she walks back out, permit tucked away safely in the pocket of her coat. A further five minutes later, James Olsen - vice-head of New York State’s Auror Department - rushes into the office to greet his newly arrived colleague from England, only to find Alex already gone, utterly heedless of quaint things like tradition.

While he sets about checking the Floo Network, and tracing broom flight patterns, to track her down, Alex Danvers is busy braving the traffic of New York City and hailing a cab. She takes the cab, then a train, and then quite a long journey by feet after that, to end up at the edge of an unkempt field, by the middle of the afternoon.

Alex walks around the perimeter of the field, inspecting the area and finding it as she had suspected: thoroughly hidden from Muggle eyes by a plethora of magical charms. As she walks into the containment field, making her way past long rows of unkempt grass, what had simply looked like more field from a distance resolves itself into a somewhat overrun graveyard. Beyond the graveyard is simply forest, with the trees so thick and tall that little sunlight could penetrate through.

Alex smiles. Whatever she had been searching for, it’s clear that she has found it.

As had been established before, Alex Danvers isn’t like most other wizards. Someone else would have exercised caution, before exploring further on such strange territory. Alex, on the other hand, hesitates mere moments before striding straight into the graveyard, her gaze intent on what lies beyond it.

Or, more accurately, she attempts to stride in, only to be blown back by some unseen forcefield, that repels her as soon as she puts one foot over the threshold. When Alex recovers and begins to pick herself up from the ground, she finds herself greeted by the silhouette of someone standing above her, the facial features obscured by the sun shining right above them.

All in all, it's not the best of ways to meet the love of your life.

---

There are certain events in Maggie Sawyer’s life that had been undeniable turning points. Being kicked out of her parents’ house, and taken in by her aunt, had been one of them. Turning in her Auror application had been another.

She doesn’t expect being interrupted at lunch by one of her trespasser alert charms going off, and walking over to the window to see yet another intruder trying to break into the graveyard, to be one of them.

Intruders, by themselves, are nothing new. Which is why this time shouldn’t have been any different. But this is different, Maggie can tell, as soon as she nears the intruder. Usually, she would find herself immediately met with blustering arguments, or threats. This interloper though, picks herself off the ground with an expressionless face, and has her wand out before Maggie has even begun to open her mouth. By the time Maggie goes for her own, there is already a Stupefy being aimed at her, with unerring precision.

Fuck, she’s good, is Maggie’s first thought, as she shoves the curse away with a flick of her wand, and aims an Impedimenta back. That’s the only coherent thought she has for a while, as they face off. The intruder fights both physically and with her wand, actually jumping out of the way of Maggie’s curses instead of merely deflecting them. She aims only stunners and minor hexes at Maggie, but does so with a quickness that has Maggie constantly on the defense, throwing up shield charms one after another. She’s good at them - Protego had been one of the first spells her aunt had ever taught her - but there is no denying that her opponent is powerful, with a mix of dexterity and cunning that Maggie had never experienced when fighting anyone else who had sought to break the peace here.

“Who are you?” she calls out finally, in between dodging a Confringo and hitting back with an Expelliarmus.

“None of your business.” comes back the clipped reply, before another blasting charm has Maggie stumbling back, almost dissolving her shield charm with the force of it.

The accent is noticeably English, though a bit removed from the received pronunciation that Maggie is most familiar with. Probably a foreigner, then, which makes this even more unusual.

“You’re on my property, trying to attack me.” she replies, as she dodges a limb-locking curse. “That’s the literal definition of making it my business.”

In response, the other woman merely raises her wand and casts another hex. Maggie retaliates, and their fight begins again, just as fast-paced and evenly-matched as before.

“We can do this all night, or we can talk.” Maggie says, as the grass around them begins to spark with the residue of blocked curses. “Your call.”

There is another thwarted attempt at a Stupefy, followed by a frustrated growl, and then the sparks around them as doused with a fountain spell.

“Fine.” the intruder says, striding forward to come face to face with Maggie, tucking her wand away into her oversized coat as she does so. “Alex Danvers. Auror, Ministry of Magic. Step aside, before I have you arrested for obstruction of Ministry affairs.”

That has Maggie reconsidering her initial impression of this woman, before putting her own wand away and raising her hands up leisurely. She half expects to be hexed with an incapacitation spell as she does so, and from the calculating look on Danvers’ face, she certainly seems to be considering something of the sort. Then, Danvers’ eyes widen, as she looks at something beyond Maggie.

Maggie looks back, following her gaze. Far in the distance, at the other end of the graveyard, just ahead of the tree line, a beast has advanced from the forest into the graveyard, watching the proceedings with obvious interest. Maggie studies the winged horse, with its skeletal body and its reptilian snout that is currently pointed curiously in their direction, before looking back at Alex, who is staring at the animal with an eagerness and satisfaction that’s setting off all kind of alarm bells in Maggie’s head.

“You can see it.” she says. “The Thestral.”

“Most Aurors can, wouldn’t you expect?” comes Danvers’ brief reply. “We've all seen death, in some form or another. Now, get out of my way.”

Maggie does the opposite, and steps in front of her, feeling all the more protective now that she had spotted that avaricious gaze.

“Where’s your warrant for searching my property?”

Alex Danvers blinks, and then the momentary uncertainty is gone from her gaze.

“What?”

“You’re on my family’s land.” Maggie says, smiling. “You’re obviously not from around here, but by the laws of this state, Aurors aren’t allowed to just barge in without due cause. You can lose your wand permit for that, around here.”

Alex Danvers looks like she’s re-considering that incapacitation hex after all.

“I’m following up on a case.” she insists. “I need access.”

“What case?” Maggie asks.

Though her voice remains unmoved, she can’t help but sense some foreboding, as she takes another look back at the graveyard behind her, at what Danvers could possibly mean. The graveyard has been no stranger to trespassers and attackers and curious onlookers over the years, but no Auror has ever shown interest in it before.

“That’s classified.” comes the ready reply.

“You get that reply out a can?” Maggie shoots back. “I’ve known green recruits come up with better pretext on the fly.”

That hint seems to fly by Danvers, who zeroes in on her refusal instead.

“Why are you being so stubborn about this?” she asks frustratedly. “Get. Out. Of the way.”

“Warrant, or you’re going to have to explain why you killed an ex-Auror while trespassing on her property.” Maggie says flatly. “Because, stepping over my cold, dead body is the only way you’re getting past me, without one.”

That stops the advancing Danvers.

“Ex-” Danvers starts, a questioning lilt to her voice.

“Uh-huh.” Maggie cuts in. “Maggie Sawyer, New York State Auror Department, License X13271Y. Look it up.”

There’s a moment as the two size each other up, Maggie smiling up into a pale and furious face.

“Fine.” Danvers finally hisses, with no abundance of grace. “But, I’ll be back.”

She gives one more stare at the Thestral that’s still watching them, before glaring at Maggie and stalking away, her black coat flaring behind her as majestically as a cloak. Maggie watches her leave, and instead of feeling satisfaction, she only feels an odd sense of disquiet, as if she had misjudged something, somewhere.

---

When Alex returns to the Auror headquarters in the city, she doesn’t expect to see her sister there, seated in the office of a man that Alex immediately recognizes from headshots as James Olsen, the very Auror that she had skipped out of meeting with that morning.

“Look who’s here.” Kara announces, as Alex walks in, regarding the two of them cautiously. “Got lost on the way to the Ministry, sis, and ended up on a whole different continent?”

“Kara.” Alex mutters, trying to act nonchalant and not guilty at all. “I was just, uh-”

“Don’t even bother.” Kara says grumpily. “I know you’re married to your work, but this is ridiculous. Imagine me, going to my sister’s office last weekend as usual, bringing her lunch because I know she forgets to eat, only to find out she’s gone gallivanting off to another country without warning!”

The good thing about having a sister who’s the star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies? Alex gets tickets anytime she wants. The bad thing? There’s a whole off-season where Kara makes it her personal duty to follow Alex around, and make sure she doesn’t get hurt in her line of work.

“There’s a case.” Alex interjects defensively. “I had some following up to do on some leads, and-”

“And then I fly all the way over here,” Kara continues, steamrolling right over her objections, and counting off on her fingers with emphasis, “Only to find out that she’s given the New York Auror Department the slip too, and struck out on her own. Imagine that, Alex!”

“Ok, I get it. I’m sorry.” Alex grumps. “You know how I get on a case.”

Before Kara can retort to that, Alex moves over to look inquiringly at the man who had been watching this exchange between them with some amusement.

“James Olsen.” James Olsen says, getting up to shake her hand. “As you already know, I’m sure.”

“Right.” Alex mutters, looking around the office, her gaze stopping longingly on the open window. She wonders at her chances of a safe landing, if she factors in a levitation charm.

“Mind telling us where you went?” he asks mildly.

“I had a lead from a case that we’ve got ongoing in England.” Alex says. “I went to follow up on it.”

Again, she feels that sureness inside her, the feeling when an intuition just rings true. That Thestral appearing all of a sudden like that, out of that well-protected forest, had only strengthened that feeling. Alex is sure that she’s on the right path, and that she’d be a hell of a lot closer, if Maggie Sawyer hadn’t stood in her way. She can’t help but exhale a frustrated sigh at the remembrance of their meeting, as she takes a seat in front of Olsen.

“I know you’re not required to share your case details with us.” he says, still pleasantly. “But, we could help you out, you know. We occasionally do more than eating doughnuts, around here.”

“What?” Alex asks, blinking.

“Nevermind, No-Maj joke.” Olsen says, waving it away. “The point is, if your case is frustrating you, maybe I can help.”

“Yeah, dummy.” Kara puts in. “What happened? You look tired and grumpy. More than usual, I mean.”

“Thank you, Kara.” Alex replies, before turning back to Olsen. “Actually, can you run a wand permit number through for me?”

She rattles off the license number that Sawyer had given her, and realizes by the way Olsen’s eyes narrow and his face goes tight, that he doesn’t need to run it through the system to recognize it.

“Maggie Sawyer.” he says quietly. “So, that’s where you went.”

“What?” Kara asks, looking between them. “Who? Where did she go?”

“Where I tried to go.” Alex corrects. “So Sawyer was telling the truth, then? About being an ex-Auror?”

“She was one of our best.” James Olsen says plainly. “On the fast track for promotion to Department head. Then, her aunt died a few years ago, and she just... well.”

He shrugs and peters off, before looking up at Alex again, the puzzled expression returning to his face.

“I’m guessing she didn’t let you in.”

“You’d be guessing right.” Alex replies, frustration edging into her tone again.

“That’s Maggie, alright.” Olsen says, his small smile giving away that he understands the source of her pique very well. “She’s pretty protective of that place, but with good reason.”

“She’s obstructing justice.” Alex says, with quiet determination. “I’m getting access to that forest, one way or another.”

“Why?” James asks her. “That’s just an enchanted forest, a sanctuary for magical creatures. No wizard lives there. What are you hoping to find?”

“A lead.” Alex answers, evasively.

Her hunch is right. She’s sure of it.

“I’m getting in there.” she repeats, remembering that Thestral again.

---

Maggie hadn’t actually expected Alex Danvers to give up after one failed attempt. However, she doesn’t expect the woman to show up on her doorstep the very next day with James Olsen, of all people, either.

Danvers is looking a little wide-eyed as she sees Maggie exiting the front door of her house, and Maggie immediately surmises why. To Alex, it must have seemed like she had appeared out of thin air.

“Standard concealment charm.” she tells Alex. “You’ve got to be allowed to know its location, before you can see it. Hang on.”

She looks at James, getting an encouraging nod back, before including Alex into the hiding charm.

“Oh.” Alex says, when the house suddenly becomes visible to her. “I see.”

She sounds grudgingly impressed, but Maggie is uncaring of that, more concerned with the reason for their visit.

“What are the two of you doing here?” she asks, pointedly not inviting them in.

“Maggie.” James says, his usual easy smile tinged with sadness and uncertainty, as he greets her. “Long time no see. I think you’ve met Auror Danvers already.”

“Met is one word for it.” Maggie says dryly, shooting a look at Danvers, who raises her eyebrows and shoots a smug smile back.

“She’s working on a case.” James says, before Danvers can get a retort in. “She would really appreciate it if you could work with her on it. She needs access to the forest.”

“But, I’m lead.” Danvers puts in. “No argument on that.”

Maggie stares at her, before turning back to James.

“Is this why she was here trying to knock the place down last week?”

“Yes?” he ventures, before looking at her pleadingly. “Look, I know I’m not your colleague anymore, but I’d really appreciate it if you do this favour for me. As a friend.”

Maggie looks back at Danvers, the expression on whose face has shifted from smug to considering.

“Fine.” Maggie says after a while. “I trust you, James. If you want me to help her, fine.”

James nods with obvious relief.

“Now, I have to go give a rundown to President Grant, on how we’re following up the Marsdin incident.” he says. “Play nice while I’m gone, you two.”

Maggie rolls her eyes at that last line, and gestures at Danvers to come inside, as James takes out his wand and prepares to disapparate.

“Oh, Maggie.” he turns around, as if he had just remembered. “Thanks for that tip you wired in about Sinclair, by the way. We rounded up her entire gang last month, as I’m sure you saw in the papers.”

Maggie nods, and turns away from his vanishing form, to see Danvers watching her with the barest hint of curiosity in her expression.

“Old habits die hard.” she says, by way of explanation, and then amusement overtakes her usual rectitude, at how Danvers visibly squares herself up when they’re alone, as if to reassure herself, or intimidate the hell out of Maggie, or both. “Wow, you really don’t give up easily, huh?”

The seems to deflate Danvers, and Maggie takes advantage of that momentary uncertainty to lead her to a seat.

“So, you really are here just to look at the forest.” she says, musingly.

“Why else would I be here?” Danvers asks, giving her an odd look.

“Why is the forest so interesting to you?” Maggie shoots back, because two can play at that game.

“Like I said before, that’s classified.”

“You’re sticking with that, I see.” Maggie says, a little irritated. She doesn’t know whether she had hoped Danvers to be more forthcoming after seeing her with James, but that certainly doesn’t seem to be the case. “Fine, I did promise James I’d help.”

“Right.” Danvers says, clearly done with this conversation. “And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get started.”

She heads back out of the house, in the direction of the graveyard and the forest beyond it, but Maggie stalls her again.

“On one condition.” she states, falling into step with her. “I’m going in with you.”

“Fine.” Alex breathes out, after seeming to war with herself between annoyance and uncertainty. “Let’s go.”

As Maggie carefully takes her through the graveyard, pointing her away from the graves, marked and unmarked, to the cleared paths that had been grown over with weeds, Danvers simply stalks at her side silently.

“Look,” Maggie says finally, trying to get on less choppy ground with the woman. “I’m sorry about attacking you out of the blue like that, when you first got here.”

For the first time since their meeting, Danvers looks surprised as she turns to face Maggie, and at a complete loss for what to say.

“I thought you were trying to vandalize the graveyard.” Maggie says. “That’s why I didn’t want to let you in.”

For all her irreverence, Danvers looks shocked at the idea.

“Why would I-” she starts, then regroups. “Why would anyone want to vandalize a cemetery?”

Maggie considers the question, asking herself if she really wants to explain the whole story, to this Auror who’s clearly bent on other business anyway.

“Because of the people who’re buried here.” she replies, eventually, and leaves it at that. “Look, there’s the treeline.”

As she had hoped, the inquisitive glint that had come into Danvers’ eyes at her answer vanishes, as her focus returns again to the forest. As they near the treeline, a few Thestrals come through into the clearing, gazing at them with curious eyes. Maggie nods at them, but passes by silently. At her side, Danvers looks back and studies the beasts as they retreat, her expression one of mingled awe and evaluation.

“They seem to be alright.” she says in a low voice, almost as if she’s talking to herself, as they head deeper into the forest. “No injuries. And they wouldn’t be so trusting, if they sensed danger.”

Maggie looks sideways at her.

“What do you mean danger?” she asks, feeling her own body tense.

“I don’t know.” Danvers says. “That’s why I’m here, to find out.”

She looks around in some frustration at the darkness enveloping them now, before taking her wand out and casting a Lumos charm. Light flares out from the end of her wand, and flickers for a few moments, before dying out completely.

“Too many centuries of protective spells in this place.” Maggie tells her, as Danvers makes an annoyed noise. “That kind of weak lighting charm wouldn’t work in here.”

“Then what do you use?”

In answer, Maggie unclips the flashlight she had strapped to her belt, and turns it on, the high-range beam penetrating easily through the gloom of the forest.

“Heavy duty No-Maj tactical flashlight.” she explains, with a crooked smile. “I don’t really come in here all that often, but this works just fine for me, when I do.”

Danvers snorts at her in disbelief, then flicks her wand again.

“ Expecto Patronum! ” she says, with a snottiness that’s more amusing than annoying, and a silvery light light flows out of one end of the wand, resolving itself into a beast that seems to be half-lion and half-eagle.

“Is that a griffin?” Maggie asks with astonishment, as the animal flies and leaps ahead of then, lightning the way brilliantly.

Danvers actually looks fond, as she watches the animal leaping ahead of them, acting absurdly playful for all its majesticness. It kind of reminds Maggie of a puppy, the way it gambols around, and it is entirely unlike the grave and prickly woman at her side.

“Better than a torch, wouldn’t you say?” Alex Danvers asks, turning to smile at Maggie.

Maggie blinks in surprise at the unexpected warmth of that smile, which is probably just a reflection of Danvers’ fondness for her Patronus, but keeps the flashlight on anyway, out of sheer stubbornness.

As they head into the forest, though, Danvers genuinely seems to loosen up, asking Maggie questions about the beasts and birds they spot through the trees, and offering some commentary of her own. On the subject of magical beasts, especially, she seems to be quite well-read. As they head further through the trees, the conversation takes an unexpected direction that Maggie hadn’t anticipated.

“It wasn’t because of being an Auror.” Alex says suddenly, in the middle of their discussion on the origins of a Thestrals’ invisibility.

When Maggie turns to her in question, Alex seems surprised at her own words, as if unsure of her decision to voice them.

“What wasn’t?” Maggie prompts.

“The Thestrals.” Alex says, jaw working, “The reason I can see them... it’s not from being an Auror. It was my dad. He died in the third War, when I was still a student, and well... I’ve been able to see them since then. They drive the Hogwarts carts, you know.”

Maggie nods, and turns away, not sure how to respond.

“I’m sorry.” she says finally, aware that it’s painfully inadequate.

Alex brushes that away impatiently.

“What about you?” she asks.

Maggie is surprised that she’d even ask that question. From everything she knows about her, Alex doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to do small talk, which means she really must be looking for an answer.

“My aunt.” Maggie murmurs. “She died a few years ago; she wasn’t really the type to take life easy.”

She can feel herself slowing down, as she remembers her aunt gasping, the light of red stunning spells still flying in sparks around her chest. Remembers her grasping hands clasping around Maggie’s hands, her mouth fighting to get out words. Remembers her own tears falling down into their joined hands, blurring Maggie’s vision just as her aunt’s eyes had gone blank.

Maggie shakes her head and speeds up again to keep up with Alex’s stride, turning away to evade the look thrown at her.

“What exactly are you looking for?” she asks, as a distraction.

She expects another gruff dismissal to this question. Instead, there is a long silence, with Alex’s face closed off in thought.

“I don’t know.” Alex sighs out finally. “Some disturbance, maybe. Some sign that I’m on the right track.”

“Track of what?” Maggie asks, but Alex just shakes her head, looking uncertain.

“Do you see anything out of place?” she asks back.

Maggie looks around warily, hearing the tell-tale click of giant spider legs somewhere in the distance, more closeby hisses, and flashes of swift animals moving through the thicket. There is noise coming from above them, too, of trees whose branches wave without wind to move them. Nothing about all this is unusual, though, for such a magical forest.

She’s about to tell Alex just that, when a loud vibrating sound makes Maggie start. As she jumps, Alex pulls a phone out of her pocket with a frustrated exhale. She spares it a quick glance, before looking back at Maggie and rolling her eyes.

“It’s my sister.” she says. “She needs me back in the city by the afternoon.”

“Something wrong?” Maggie asks.

“No.” Alex rolls her eyes again. “Kara just thinks I’m legally bound to enjoy the sights of the city, while I’m here.”

Maggie laughs, but can’t help but stare at the phone, as Alex puts it away. She uses one herself, but she’s aware that she’s an anomaly in many, many ways.

“What?” Alex asks, looking self-conscious when Maggie stares for just a little too long.

“Your cellphone.” Maggie says. “It’s still rare to see that on wizards, around here.”

Alex stares at her for a moment, before the confusion disappears.

“Right.” She says. “The old segregation laws.”

“Some habits die hard, I guess.” Maggie shrugs, leading the way back. “Even half a century later.”

“Most wizards don’t use Muggle technology back home, either.” Alex says, helping her push the branches back, as they turn around. “Although, I think that’s mostly just because of snootiness.”

Maggie snorts.

“You know, you’re not at all what I expected a Slytherin to be.” she says, looking back, and catching a slight flush entering Alex’s face.

“How did you-” Alex starts.

“The ring.” Maggie says, nodding at the emerald serpent in a silver setting, coiled around Alex’s finger.

“Oh, right.” Alex says quietly. “Yeah, it was my dad’s.”

“Right.” Maggie says, suddenly feeling awkward.

She feels like she’s put her foot in it again, not something she’s used to feeling. As she leads Alex out of the forest, and through the graveyard, Maggie feels a little unsettled by that fact. How odd that this woman should draw such awkwardness and uncertainty out of her, when Maggie has spent half her life working to cull out exactly that.

When they reach her house, and Maggie prepares to see her off, Alex turns back to her abruptly, seeming to be on the verge of saying something. When Maggie leans in closer to listen, though, hesitation flickers across her and she seems to change her mind. She reaches into her coat instead, scribbling something on the notepad that she pulls out.

“Here.” Alex says, tearing off the piece of paper and handing it over to her. “My number.”

Maggie raises her eyebrows.

“I mean.” Alex face flames red. “If something comes up with the forest, I mean.”

And then, watching her flush and stammer, an odd word comes to Maggie’s mind, to describe this clearly dangerous and very standoffish Auror in front of her. Adorable.

She blinks, tucking the word away into a corner of her mind to puzzle over later, and curves her lips into a smile instead.

“Relax, Danvers.” she says. “I know what you meant. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

As she watches Alex leave, Maggie feels that odd sense of disquiet return. She turns away from the door and drifts over without thought to the picture of her aunt that perpetually suns on the window sill. Maggie brushes dried flower petals away from the frame and watches the blinking face in the photo, frowning as she tries to piece together the reason behind her disturbance.

During all her years first as a lawkeeper and then as an Auror, she had learnt to trust her instincts. If she feels something is wrong, there’s a likelihood that her brain had picked up on something. Maggie sifts through her thoughts, trying to identify what it was, and finally comes upon the likely source. It is that, despite all of Alex’s initial standoffishness and opaqueness, there is a definite air of competence to her. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman who would go on a wild goose chase across an ocean for no reason.

And if Alex is worried that something is wrong, Maggie surmises, something must be very wrong indeed, and that something is striking at the very place that Maggie had sworn to protect.

---

“Found anything in the forest?” Kara asks idly, as Alex enters the apartment that she had rented out, shrugging off her coat with moody frustration.

“Get out.” Alex says. “You have your own place.”

“Nah, don’t want to.” Kara says, after pretending to consider her request for a moment. “Soooo?”

“I got nothing.” Alex exhales. “I think it’s going to be a waiting game for a while, at least until my contacts get back to me with something good.”

“Good.” her sister states. “Because this evening is you-and-me time, and I’m not having some case bother us.”

“Ugh.” Alex says, only half-seriously. “What have you gotten into your head now?”

“They have this new exhibit at that art museum I was looking up yesterday.” Kara says excitedly. “By that artist that I was telling you about?”

“Oh right, her. Your new crush of the month.” Alex says with a snort. “I remember.”

“Alex!” Kara protests, her face flushing. “That’s not- I just - her art is very beautiful! And ok, she said she watches my games, sometimes, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Alex interrupts amusedly. “I thought you were into James now?”

Kara, if possible, flushes further.

“That’s not - he’s practically your coworker! I was just, I mean, ok yes he’s very handsome-”

“Alright, I believe you.” Alex says, taking pity on her. “Now, what about this exhibit?”

“I’m taking you to see it today.” Kara says decisively. “Your seriously need to get out more.”

“Kara, I just got home.” Alex - quite reasonably, she thinks -  points out.

“I mean, outside of work.” Kara amends. “Alex, we’re in a whole new city! When are you going to get this chance again?”

“I’m here to work.” Alex says, toe-ing off her shoes and turning to face her sister. “You know that, right?”

Kara sighs, and her face takes on a more serious set.

“Look, I know we didn’t always have the best times together when we were growing up.” she says. “I know there wasn’t always... space, for you, after I came to live with you. But, I’m trying now, ok? I’m not going to just let you throw yourself into your work, and pretend that it’s ok.”

“I am ok with that.” Alex argues. “Kara, I like what I do.”

Sometimes, she remembers what she had been before J’onn recruited her into the Ministry. Directionless, close to failing her NEWTs, bound by a grief that she only seemed to find solace from at the bottom of a wine glass.

Whatever she is now, Alex knows, is better than that, no matter how skeptically or sadly Kara may look at her.

“Fine.” Kara concedes. “That’s fine, you’re here to work, I get it. That doesn’t mean you can’t come to the museum with me today, alright? Is a couple of hours really going to throw you off your game?”

“No.” Alex admits, after a moment of stubborn silence.

“Good.” Kara says, before adding on blithely. “Because I also booked us a trip to the planetarium after that. And then a ferry ride to go see the statue of Liberty up close.”

“Ugh.” Alex pronounces again, fully aware that she brought the camel into the tent to begin with, and now deserves any pushing out that she gets. “Tell me again why you’re here badgering me, and not back home doing your job, Chaser?”

“Because my aunt is the team coach and she lets me do whatever I want in the off-season, basically?”

“Nepotism still going strong in the wizarding world, I see.” Alex mutters, schlepping back into her outside shoes, never one to accept defeat graciously.

“Says J’onn’s teacher’s pet whom he hired right out graduation.” Kara quips back, chivvying her towards the door. “Now, hurry up, or we’ll miss the reception.”

As they grab their coats and head out the door, though, Kara’s expression turns somber again, fleetingly.

“It’s ok to live a little, Alex.” she murmurs, and her hand comes up to rest against Alex’s back, as she locks up the door. “The world isn’t going to end if you do, alright? People will pick up the slack for you, I promise.”

Alex murmurs back something meaningless in assent, just to get Kara off her case. At the last moment, though, Maggie Sawyer’s face flashes into her mind, head tilted up in that quizzical smile.

---

When Alex goes to visit Maggie for the third time, she chooses to simply Apparate there, foregoing the precautions she had previously taken, now that she’s more familiar with the area. She Apparates into the thicket of overgrown grass a short ways from Maggie’s house, for good measure. As it happens, this puts her in the perfect position to witness the shocking battle that greets her eyes as she walks towards the house, a fight that arouses a kind of fury that Alex rarely feels.

There is Maggie’s small figure standing in front of the graveyard, with wide-planted feet, hurling spells lightning fast at three wizards advancing on her, who are throwing every spell they’ve got at her. It’s not like the fight that taken place between Alex and her, where they had been more or less evenly matched. Instead, in this match of three against one, even though Maggie looks to have been holding her own so far, a fool could see that she couldn’t last for much longer. Even as Alex watches, she deflects a disarming curse from one of the interlopers, only to take a blasting curse to the shoulder from another, and a glancing blow from a stunner aimed by the third.

She stumbles back from that, evidently winded, and suddenly Alex is seeing red. Before her mind has even walked through the maze of curses she’s about to unleash, Alex is running towards the three wizards, wand out and spinning in her hand. Her Sectumsempra takes out the closest assailant from the back, ripping a gash into his skin in a gruesome font of blood. Before the other two turn around, she takes full of advantage of her position to aim another hex at them, getting another of the three, before the third finally manages to get a curse in at her.

From there, it’s not much of a fight, with Maggie and Alex linchpinning the three intruders between them. A series of effectively aimed blasters and stunners from the duo, and all three go down, groaning as they wands fly out of their hands.

The surprise doesn’t last long, with one of them jumping up and scrabbling for his wand.

“There’s two of you, now?” he sneers. “You think you can keep people out for long?”

Alex doesn’t know what the hell he means, but she does know that his tone of voice is seriously setting her off right now. She grits her teeth, and raises her wand again, and maybe it’s something he sees in her eyes, but he backs off. He stumbles back, away from the graveyard, and his two friends follow, until all three are running away as fast as their injuries would allow, casting fearful glances back at Alex and Maggie.

Alex keeps her wand outstretched in their wake, until they fade into the distance, before turning back to Maggie.

“Not very fair, striking from the back.” Maggie comments, when their gazes meet. “Isn’t that banned, in wizarding duels?”

“I wasn’t duelling.” Alex says, as she lets out her held breath in a long exhale. “And I’m pretty sure I just saved your life. What the hell was that?”

“I told you.” Maggie says. “We get a lot of people here trying to vandalize the graves. I have my hands full with them, especially in the summer.”

“No.” Alex says, shaking her head. “See, when you said that, I thought maybe you meant graffiti, or some idiots sneaking in there at night and drinking their common sense away. I’m not blind, Maggie. That wasn’t vandalism; it was an attack.”

Suddenly, she’s realizing why Maggie had been so quick on the offensive, when Alex had trespassed during her first visit here, but realizing that only leaves her with further questions.

“Let me ask again.” she says, moving close to Maggie. “What. The Hell. Was that?”

“Stupid kids.” Maggie answers finally. “And stupid adults, too. Wanting to erase pieces of history that they don’t like, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t really let them say much, before I kick them out.”

That’s not much of answer, but Alex looks around her, and the rows of graves, marked and unmarked ones, hidden away in this enchanted field, and things start to fit into place.

“Maggie-” she begins slowly, remembering her words from their last minute. “Who is buried here?”

“Lawbreakers.” Maggie says, without inflection.

And then, of course, it’s blindingly obvious, like a circuit board where all the parts had been installed all along, but suddenly electricity is coursing through it, setting the whole rig to work.

“Rapaport’s Law.” Alex states. “The segregation of Wizards and Muggles.. I mean, No-Majs.”

“Right.”

“So, these were the people that-” Alex stops, fumbling for the words. “Who went against that. Who broke the law, and intermarried.”

Maggie just shrugs again, frowning a little at Alex’s choice of words.

“And now, you know why this place gets attacked regularly.” she says. “People didn’t like wizards and No-Majs intermarrying then, and they don’t like it now, and they especially don’t like reminders of it.”

She’s running her wand over her wounds as she speaks, the bleeding tapering off wherever the wand passes.

“This place has been in my mother’s side of the family for generations. It used to be a church... one of the few places where such families were allowed to attend service, and be laid to rest. It passed on to my aunt, and I guess she kind of passed it on to me.”

Alex squints at the graveyard and the overgrown fields around it, trying to imagine the outlines of whatever grand church building must have been there once. Only Maggie’s diminutive house meets the survey of her eyes, though, dwarfed from this distance by everything around it.

“So, this is what you gave up being an Auror for?” she asks, turning back to Maggie.

“James told you that, huh?” Maggie asks, smiling ruefully.

“I can’t imagine making that choice.” Alex admits, studying their surroundings again, and taking in just how isolated the place is.

“It wasn’t much of a choice.” Maggie says. “My aunt died. Someone had to take her place.”

“It didn’t have to be you.”

“Of course it did.” Maggie says. “And not to be corny, Danvers, but my aunt didn’t think anyone should be punished for whom they choose to love, and I guess when it comes down to it, neither do I.”

She’s still looking down and studying her wounds, as she speaks, which is a good thing for Alex, because she’s pretty sure that her face had caved in right then, at hearing those words so unexpectedly. Maggie didn’t mean it that way, of course not, Maggie can’t have meant it that way, but Alex hears it that way anyway.

“Plus, I’m gay.” Maggie adds, finally looking up. “I know it’s not the same thing. But, in a way, I guess I do take it kind of personally.”

Oh. Maybe Maggie had meant it, then. She had-

Alex cuts off that dangerous line of thought. As she stands transfixed, Maggie starts muttering a spell under her breath, that stops the bleeding, but doesn’t close the wounds up. They gape through the shreds of her shirt, red and gruesome, stoking anger in Alex at first, quickly followed by concern.

“Let me.” she murmurs.

Maggie tenses up when she reaches for her, but Alex extends only the barest touch, free hand ghosting over the torn shirt.

“Just... trust me.”

She trails a hovering thumb over the outlines of the wounds, feeling the texture of the fabric skimming against her skin, as she plans out in her mind the lattice of spellwork that she’d have to cast.

“Alex, it’s fine-” Maggie begins.

She stops abruptly as Alex starts murmuring the first spell, in the array that she would need to cast, in order to properly clean up and close off deep wounds like this. It’s been a while since she’s practiced healing charms, but they flow out of her wand easily even now, instinctive in a way that no other branch of spellwork has been.

“Wow.” Maggie breathes out, as the wounds close up in the wake of Alex’s wand. “That’s really advanced healing magic, for an Auror to know.”

She looks questioningly at Alex, who waits until the last of the spells is set, before removing her wand and replying.

“I wanted to be a healer at St. Mungo’s.” she says, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Before, well, before the War and my dad and-”

She shrugs, voice tapering off, but Maggie just nods.

“You’ve got a knack for it.” she says, running wondering hands over the now-smooth skin revealed through the tattered flaps of clothing.

Alex stares just a little too long. Long enough that Maggie looks back up, catches her watching, and tilts her head, her expression unchanging.

Alex swallows.

“It’ll take a while to properly heal.” she says, voice rough. “Don’t exert yourself too much.”

“I know, Danvers.” Maggie says, with a small smile. “This isn’t my first time at the rodeo.”

Alex studies her, and the red stains still marking her shirt, and something else that had been niggling at the back of her mind makes itself known.

“Died.” she states.

“What?” Maggie asks.

“You said your aunt died.” Alex says. “Most people just say ‘passed on’.”

Maggie’s mouth twists a couple of times, visibly, before she replies.

“Yeah.” she says. “I guess they do.”

“Why do you put up with this?” Alex asks, suddenly angry.  How dare Maggie go through this, and all alone too, out of her own will?

“You wanted to be a Healer.” Maggie shoots back, whip-fast. “Why are you an Auror, instead?”

Alex thinks about it.

“Ok.” she says after a while. ”Fine. Fair enough.”

When Maggie silently nods, and heads back into her house, Alex shoots out a hand to stay her.

“The case I’m working.” she says, when Maggie turns back inquiringly. “Do you want to hear about it?”

---

“Magical animals turning up dead, all over your continent?” Maggie asks, immediately troubled at Alex’s revelation. “Why hasn’t our Auror Department heard about this before now?”

“Because everyone else seems to be under the impression that these are one-off attacks.” Alex says. “The deaths are spaced out just far enough that you wouldn’t notice, unless you really went digging into the dates and established the pattern. The other Aurors back home are still treating these as individual cases, but I think there’s something bigger going on here. There are some curious similarities that I’ve found, in each case.”

“Ok.” Maggie says, mulling that over. “But, even if you’re right, there are magical creatures all around the world.”

She looks back at Alex, her disturbed thoughts giving way to curiosity, as she comes back to the central mystery of what Alex had revealed to her.

“Alex, you’re here .” she continues. “There are magical beasts all around the world, but you sure packed up and got over here in a hurry. Why?”

“I had a hunch.” Alex says evasively. “I thought I might find something here, anything that could lead me onto the right track.”

Maggie studies her. When Alex isn’t more forthcoming, she stands up abruptly, trying to ignore the twinges of pain shooting up her chest and arms, from her still healing wounds.

“Fine.” she says. “If you’re so so worried about what’s going in the forest, why don’t we go find out right now?”

“You’re injured.” Alex protests. “We can recon another time.”

“I don’t mean recon.” Maggie interrupts, sweeping right past the concern. “I mean that I know someone who can maybe shed some light on this.”

“Who?” Alex asks, eyes narrowed.

“Come on.” Maggie says, grabbing her trusty flashlight, and guiding Alex out the door. “Since you’re so obsessed with the forest, I guess it’s time that you met some of the things that live there.”

“Mysterious.” Alex murmurs, as she follows Maggie out. “I haven’t annoyed you enough that you’re going to feed me to a man-eating spider, right?”

“Not yet, but the day is still young.” Maggie digs back.

She smiles at Alex’s snort, and when they reach the forest, takes her down a different track from the one they had taken before.

“I don’t know if you know, but we’ve actually got a herd of centaurs living here.” she says. “This is one of the few forests in North America that’s still protected enough for them to have a safe habitat.”

“It’s not going to be safe anymore, unless we find out what’s going on.” Alex says. “These centaurs, you think they can help us?”

“Well,” Maggie hedges, “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I think one of them might be willing to talk.”

She doesn’t explain further until she leads Alex deeper into the forest. As she had expected, once they’re deep enough into the thicket of trees, there begins to come a new sound from her side, the source of it hidden by the foliage. It’s like rustling, but louder, and when Alex goes for her wand upon hearing it, Maggie grabs her hand to stop her.

“No.” she murmurs. “It’s okay. It’s safe.”

Alex’s throat works, as she looks down at their joined hands and nods, but Maggie is looking ahead, where the darkness is resolving itself into a woman with a brown-skinned human torso from the waist up, and the base of an elk of similar coloring.

“That’s M’gann.” Maggie says in an undertone, when Alex follows her gaze, and her mouth falls open in surprise. “She’s one of the few centaurs that don’t mind humans coming around this place.”

“Megan?” Alex asks, looking doubtfully ahead at the harmless and youthful-looking centaur. “And you think she can help us?”

“M’gann.” Maggie corrects. “Don’t be fooled; she’s a lot older than she looks. She and my aunt used to be playmates, when they were young.”

M’gann gives them a calm nod as they near her, and while she doesn’t shy away, she does cast a worried glance at the forest around them.

“Maggie.” she says, never one to waste words on greetings. “You’ve brought a friend with you.”

“This is Alex.” Maggie says, feeling suddenly shy at introducing the woman next to her, to this centaur who had known her aunt so well.

“You’re here for something?” M’gann asks, after nodding briefly at Alex too.

“We wanted to know if you’d noticed anything unusual in the forest.” Maggie says, feeling rather foolish. “Anything out of the ordinary.”

There’s silence for a while, as M’gann considers the question, her head turning this way and that.

“It depends.” the centaur says finally. “Mars retreats in the sky, but he’s never truly gone. Venus is bright, but far away. And Jupiter looms.”

When nothing else is forthcoming after a few moments, Maggie ventures a reply.

“Anything else?” she asks. “Any disturbances, anything the herd is worried about?”

“Jupiter looms.” the centaur repeats.

Alex shifts impatiently beside Maggie, but settles down after a frown is directed at her.

“Has there been anything strange in the forest?” Maggie asks, hoping for a better answer.

“Everything in this forest is strange to your kind, Maggie.” comes the dry answer, as M’gann throws a knowing look at Alex next to her, who flushes. “But, that doesn’t mean they don’t belong here.”

“Look-” Alex begins.

But, suddenly, M’gann looks up, seeming to sense something in the air. Maggie feels Alex tense up beside her, as they both hear something else rustling in the trees, though the new arrival doesn’t make themselves known.

“I have to go.” M’gann says, looking reluctant. “Be careful, you two. Some things, you’re better off not messing with.”

She disappears into the foliage on that ominous note, and the rustling in the trees moves away with her.

“I think that’s all we’re going to get out of her.” Maggie says, when Alex turns to her inquiringly. “Like I said, the other centaurs don’t like her hanging around humans too much.”

“Alright.” Alex says, “But, that doesn’t leave us any better off.”

Maggie gives a noncommittal hum, as she leads the way back out of the forest. Alex seems to catch on to it immediately, giving Maggie a curious look.

“Do you think it was useless?”  she presses.

Maggie looks around them, and shakes her head, silently switching on her flashlight to light the way back.

“Seriously,” Alex says, following behind her. “Why do you carry that thing around? A Patronus is so much easier.”

Maggie shakes her head, feeling herself sudden stiffen.

“Can’t do one.” she hears herself say, the words sounding wooden to her own ears.

She turns away from Alex to part the branches from their path again, but not before she catches a troubled glance flit across her face.

“Okay.” Alex says, sounding rather subdued. “But, the words. What M’gann said. Do you really think there was any meaning to them? It just sounded like superstitious nonsense to me.”

Maggie waits until they’re well past the treeline, before she answers.

“Here’s the thing.” she says, turning to Alex. “I grew up around these guys, and my aunt taught me that their words always made a twisted kind of sense. You just have to see them the way the centaurs do.”

“So that thing she emphasised.” Alex persists. “About Jupiter looming... what do you make of that?”

“I don’t know.” Maggie admits. “It’s all very classic centaur doublespeak. Jupiter has so many meanings in classical mythology. I can’t pinpoint what M’gann meant. The king of the gods, killed his father, ended the world a couple of times, fucked a bunch of people... I mean, where do I even start?”

Alex gives a start midway through that half-serious recount, though.

“What is it?” Maggie asks. “You’ve obviously thought of something.”

Alex looks a little embarrassed.

“You’re going to find this stupid.” she says. “I mean, these are just some rumours I’ve been tracking down over the past few months. They could be something, or they might not be anything.”

“Tell me anyways.” Maggie says.

“It’s just, what you said about Jupiter ending the world jogged my memory.” Alex says. “It reminds me of this codename, or at least I thought it was a codename, that I’ve been hearing whispered around by my sources, when investigating this case.”

“What name?”

“Worldkiller.” Alex murmurs.

Maggie cracks up. It starts out as a smile, and then she’s full on snorting, trying to keep her body from shaking.

“I’m sorry.” she manages, after a while, when Alex looks at her indignantly. “But just ... ugh, what kind of name is that? Are we going to have another wannabe Voldemort on our hands?”

“I said you’d find it stupid.” Alex says grumpily.

“Not stupid.” Maggie assures her. “Just annoying. We had to deal with copycats of that guy for ages here in America, trying to stir up all the segregation nonsense again. I remember the first couple years or so when I was working at the Auror Department, after his defeat, we were just swamped with trying keep them and their followers down.”

She lapses into silence, her amusement dying down as those memories return.

“So, you think there might be some substance to these Worldkiller rumours, then?” she asks Alex.

“I don’t know.” is Alex’s troubled answer. “I can’t track anyone down to that moniker. No real name, no time or place. It’s just a ghost name, but one I’ve heard from too many different trustworthy sources to ignore.”

“Worldkiller.” Maggie says thoughtfully, rolling the sound of it on her tongue. “It’s something to keep in mind, anyway.”

She looks at Alex discreetly from her side as she walks.

“You know,” she ventures “You could’ve told me all this earlier. I have a feeling it would’ve made both our lives a lot easier.”

She expects argument, but doesn’t expect the bowed head, or Alex suddenly getting very interested in inspecting her fingernails.

“I’m sorry.” Alex says eventually. “I guess I’ve been thinking of this as my case to solve all along, and hoarding the information to myself. And well, this is obviously about more than that.”

Maggie is so surprised that she doesn’t speak for a while, stunned by this capitulation from Alex.

“I just-” Alex looks embarrassed, and even a little shy, as she continues. “I think we’ll both get somewhere faster if we work this together, right?”

“Right.” Maggie nods, feeling something almost uncomfortably warm travel up her body, at the shy side smile that Alex directs at her, as they walk into her house side by side.

---

Although Alex had promised to check in with her by the middle of the next week, Maggie finds herself apparating into the city that very Tuesday, and walking into MACUSA headquarters, to be met by a very surprised James.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, looking concerned, as she is ushered into his office. “Is it those guys attacking you again? Maggie, I swear-”

“No.” Maggie interrupts. “This is something a lot more important. Can you call Alex in, please?”

As she had expected, James immediately puts the call through, instead of wasting her time with useless questions. He’s barely hung up, when the door to the office bangs open, and Alex hurries in.

“Sorry.” Alex says, as she strides in and takes a seat by Maggie’s. “I know I was supposed to check in with you soon, Maggie, but I just got caught in a couple of small cases that J’onn wired me to look over, and-”

“It’s fine.” Maggie says. “But, this is important. I have something that I think you need to see, about the forest.”

“Now?” Alex asks, drawing up short, her face sinking into familiar lines of worry.

Maggie spares only a glance to stare at James looking concernedly at the two of them, before looking back at Alex and nodding.

“Ok.” Alex breathes, getting up. “Let’s go, then. Hold on.”

Maggie tenses as she nears, but Alex simply curves an arm around her waist, adjusting her grip a few times before taking her wand out.

“You good?” Alex asks, in a low rumble, looking back at her before she casts the Apparition spell.

Maggie nods, Alex twirls her around, and then they’re in the fields, in direct line of sight of the graveyard.

“Follow me.” Maggie says.

She takes Alex right to the far edge of the graveyard. The object of their visit is invisible until they’re almost on top of it, hidden by the taller stalks of grass sprouting by the treeline. Maggie can hear Alex’s breath hitch, when she first spots iit.

It’s the body of a Thestral, clearly not long dead. Alex immediately rushes to it, pulling her sleeves back, as a focused expression enters her face.

“No.” Maggie says, rushing forward and dragging her back from touching the body. “It’s dead, Alex. We can’t do anything for it.”

Alex breathing heavily, looks up at her from her kneeling position.

“When?” she asks.

“I found it on my my early morning patrol.” Maggie says. “Almost tripped over it, in the dark. All I know for sure is that it definitely wasn’t there last night. Also, look.”

Without touching the body, she motions Alex over to the rump, where a clear incision is visible right at the end where the back meets tail, congealed blood oozing at the spot.

“I saw that, and I came back when it was light outside, to check again.” she says, “Look around you.”

As she pushes through stalks of yellow and green grass in the area, the stark black lines of Thestral tail hair are lying scattered all around the dead body, in plain view.

“Someone cut that tail off,” she says, “And then just discarded it.”

She studies Alex, who looks pale, but not actually shocked.

“Thestral tail hairs. Does this mean what I think it means?” Maggie asks.

Alex bows her head over the body of the dead animal. It almost looks as if she’s praying, from Maggie’s angle.

“I was afraid of this.” she says. “I hoped I was wrong, but this is what I was afraid of.”

She casts a stasis charm around the body of the Thestral, before looking back up at Maggie.

“This is what tipped me off to the fact that there was a pattern in the murders of the magical beasts.” she says. “Aurors don’t really go in for stuff like autopsies, but when the second dragon was reported killed, I checked the body. Its heart was mutilated, Maggie. Torn inside the skin, the heartstrings pulled out, and then stitched back up by magic. And there were a couple of case I tracked down, of unicorns with their horns shaved off. I can’t even imagine how much pain they must’ve been in.”

“That’s sick.” Maggie says.

Even as she involuntarily backs away from the carcass of the Thestral, she finds herself staring at it, transfixed by its stillness.

“That’s sick.” she repeats. “That’s not how you make a wand, by getting the core by force. The creature has to give it to you freely.”

Alex doesn’t seem to be feeling much better about the whole thing.

“I think they failed.” she says. “That’s why all this carnage, all over the world. Someone is trying to make a powerful wand, the kind that they can’t just go into a shop for, and they’re killing every powerful beast they track down, until they get a core that will work for them.”

Maggie’s breath leaves her, along with all the confusion.

“Not many people even know there was ever a wand made with Thestral hair.” she says. “But, I’m guessing you do. That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it?”

Alex nods again.

“The Elder wand.” she says, finally rising up and backing away from the body of the Thestral. “The master of death. The only wand that was ever able to harness the magical properties of Thestral hair. Whoever was killing off the magical beasts, I knew it was only a matter of time before they found that out, and came after Thestrals.”

“So, someone isn’t simply trying to make a powerful wand.” Maggie murmurs. “They’re trying to remake the most powerful wand in history.”

“And they’re not going to stop until they get what they want.” Alex finishes for her.

As the two of them stare mutely at the dead body, stunned by their worst guesses being surpassed, Maggie sees other Thestrals come out of the trees, in a steady stream, until the skeletal horses ring them in a half-circle. They stare down at their dead flockmate, and Maggie can only look around at them all, unable to offer a reason or apology for their loss.

“There are very few free-range flocks of Thestrals remaining in the world.” Alex murmurs, by her side. “This is the largest I was able to track down, outside of Hogwarts.”

And now they’re in danger, Maggie completes the thought silently. One of them had died, under her watch.

One final figure emerges out of the forest as they wait. It is M’gann, lurking behind the Thestrals, her eyes focused on Maggie. She looks even more worried now, and Maggie remembers her warning to stay away.

Well, fuck that.

“We need to find them.” she says, turning to Alex. “We need to find out who did this.”

They are in danger. M’gann, the Thestrals, and every other creature who calls this forest home. Maybe Maggie might not belong with them, but her aunt had entrusted her with their protection.

“We need to save them.” she finishes.

As they stand over the dead body of the Thestral, ringed by half a hundred watchful beasts, Alex nods, looking just as determined as Maggie feels.

---

They fall into a pattern, over the days, as they work over the case. Alex gives up working from her makeshift office at MACUSA, and just moves her desk into Maggie’s house. The two of them spend hours compiling their research, discussing how to track down the formless threat that they face, and what protection charms would work best to further fortify the forest from trespassers. There is a rhythm to their work. Checking the protection and trespasser spells in the early morning. Striking out on their own to do independent research until late afternoon. Pooling their findings in the evening, discussing what next to tackle. Leisurely dinners, where they set aside work for once, and discuss all manner of inane things from fast food to the Kardashians.

It becomes easy, in a way that Alex has never felt with any other case partner. They argue, sometimes, their views on many things not always in alignment, but they are arguments that end up throwing a better light on their findings, and cause them to evaluate their results more critically. It’s addictive to Alex, finding someone who works on the same wavelength as she does, and she becomes aware with every passing day that this cannot last.

“Look at this.” Maggie says softly to get her attention, one afternoon. “There’s something odd here.”

When Alex comes over, Maggie has spread out a whole bunch of newspaper clippings over her worktable, all of them old, but some clearly more aged than others, judging by the yellowing papers.

“When you mentioned that you’d tracked down the dead animals all over Europe, I got curious as to what the local newspapers reported during that time.” Maggie says. “I’ve been trying to track down wizarding newspapers from those areas, from around the dates of the deaths, trying to see if anything jumped out at me.”

She gestures at the spread of clipping before her.

“Disappearances.” Alex says, when she reads the headings on some of the clippings, and sees the common pattern. “These are all reported disappearances of wizards. Wait, I remember this one, it actually happened just a few miles away from my old apartment in London. They never found the guy.”

“They match up eerily with the deaths of the animals that you compiled.” Maggie says. “A lot of the dates and locations are almost spot on.”

Correlation isn’t causation, Alex knows. Staring down at the clippings, though, she’s finding it very hard not to relate the two occurences herself.

“It’s an angle worth pursuing.” she allows, trying not to get too ahead of herself.

Despite her disturbed feelings, she’s also impressed at Maggie, for managing to put this all together in such a short time, and going about it methodically in a way that Alex has seen very few Aurors capable of doing.

“You must’ve been one hell of an Auror, Maggie.” she murmurs, before getting a little embarrassed at her moment of indiscretion.

“Says the woman who crossed the Atlantic on a hunch, one that’s being proved more right with every passing moment.” Maggie hits back.

“Right.” Alex says, brought back immediately to the seriousness of what they are facing.

Maggie studies her worriedly, and her face is decisive, when she speaks again.

“Look, this is getting a bit heavy. “ she says. “How about we take a break for today, and come back to it tomorrow? I need to get down to the farmer’s market in the city before it gets dark, and I think you’d really like the homemade garlic bread they sell in one of the stalls there, if you want to tag along.”

Alex does end up loving the garlic bread, and even takes home a couple of loaves for Kara. In the back of her mind, though, Maggie and the case run through in constant pursuit of her attention, keeping her up all night.

When she Apparates over the next day, however, eager and raring to take a closer look through their findings, Maggie is waiting in front of her house with a crooked and rather amused smile on her face.

“I’m afraid the case has to wait.” she says. “I was given a very important mission this morning.”

“What?” Alex asks, smiling automatically in response to Maggie’s mysterious amusement, and finding her own curiosity piqued. “What are you up to now?”

“Sometimes, folk living around here like me to do the odd job for them.” Maggie says. “The local milk-lady asked me to find something, today.”

“What is it?” Alex asks, a little impatiently.

“Her cat.” Maggie answers, with a straight face.

“Her cat?” Alex echoes.

“Disappeared into the forest.” Maggie says, shaking her head with mild exasperation. “You’d think people would learn to be more careful with their pets when they’re living in a place like this. Maybe put a deterrent charm on them, or something.”

“I don’t know.” Alex says. “Cats can be pretty impervious, when it comes to charms. My sister’s Streaky can give anything the slip. She used to have a hell of a time containing him, back when we were students.”

“Well, I hope this one is easier to find that your sister’s” Maggie says, shaking her head. “Or else I’m going to need to find someone else who’s willing to deliver me milk and eggs, all the way out here.”

“How do we get start?” Alex says, pushing back her sleeves, and tugging her wand out.

“We?” Maggie echoes, looking up at her with some surprise. “You’re coming along?”

Alex shrugs.

“You did say it was very important.” she says, straight-faced. “Let’s go find not-Streaky.”

It’s more difficult than Alex had anticipated, to find the escaped cat. It takes them hours just to track him down, especially as Maggie proves unwilling to veer away from her usual travel paths through the wood. After long minutes of walking up and down these paths, casting every summoning charm in their arsenal, the cat finally appears, caterwauling at them from up a tree, but refusing to come any closer. Then, when Alex - the taller one - climbs up to grab at him, she gets scratches all over her face for her trouble.

“Ugh.” she says, finally managing to scale back down the tree with him, and handing him over with considerable relief to Maggie. “That is one bad-tempered cat.”

“Perfect fit for you, then?” Maggie asks, and of course Alex has to shove her arm for that.

Maggie just laughs, and then her wands comes up, to tap gently against Alex’s cheek. Alex blinks, there’s a feel like gentle water running over her face, and then the cuts are gone.

Oh.” she says, feeling very warm all of a sudden.

When Maggie takes her wand away, her thumb grazes Alex’s cheek, leaving a trail of heat all the way down its path.

“I’ve been practising.” she says with a crooked smile. “Can’t let you be the only fancypants healer around here.”

“Right.” Alex says stupidly. “Thanks.”

She tries not to think about how those fingers had felt against her skin, but it’s getting harder to ignore that, every day.

“So the book I was talking about, the one detailing the history of the forest.” Maggie says, as she hefts the cat and leads the way out of the forest. “It should be coming in this evening, and we can see if there’s something in there that can give us a hint as to what’s going on, or how we can be better prepared, in case of some magical invasion.”

“Okay.” Alex says, not fully paying attention.

She trails behind Maggie, giving desultory replies to the discussion, her mind unable to remove itself from the unexpected touch.

The damn case. Alex knows they’re making so much headway with it, but she can’t deny that it’s making feelings she had long buried easier to resurface, and it gets worse the more she gets to know Maggie.

And Alex knows a lot of things about Maggie now, that she didn’t know before.

She knows that Maggie has like fifteen different laughs and smiles, for different occasions. Alex knows this because she had painstakingly catalogued each one away in her head. She knows how she takes her tea, and also that Maggie finds her own way of taking it abhorrent. She knows that Maggie had initially wanted to be an Auror because of her father, but had persisted in the career choice even after he had kicked her out, because she had been too stubborn to let him ruin her ambitions. And oh yes, she knows just how stubborn Maggie can be, stubborn in a way that gets Alex’s back up sometimes, but also keeps her on her toes.

She knows a fair bit about Maggie by now, and as she trails a finger down her cheek, where the warmth from her touch still lingers, Alex thinks perhaps that might be dangerous.

---

“Did you read Eliza’s last letter?” Kara asks Alex, as she sets the frying pan away from the stove. “She’s getting a bit worried about us being out here for so long.”

Alex looks up at the question, but doesn’t bother with a reply, too immersed in the book that she’s reading her way through. It’s one of many research books she needs to get through, a substantial load even after her and Maggie had split the lot between them.

“This garlic bread is amazing.” Kara murmurs, as she slices up some to stack up against the eggs and ham she had cooked up. “You are so taking me to this market, the next time you and Maggie go there.”

Alex gives some indistinct reply back, but her attention is still on the book, until her sister comes over with the plates, and pokes her nose in between the leaves, totally ignoring Alex’s annoyed hiss.

“Dark Wandlore? ” Kara asks, reading a few sentences and then pulling back to squint at the title. “Where do you even get these books? No way they allowed you to check this out at the Congress library.”

“Lucy mailed it over.” Alex says. “Her family still has a Dark Arts library, dating back from the good ol’ Death Eater days.”

“You Slytherins.” Kara sounds bemused and fond all at once, as she tucks into her breakfast with an air of delighted anticipation. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

Alex doesn’t reply, too interested in the section dissecting the lore behind the susceptibility of dragonstring cores to the Dark Arts.

“When are you going to be heading back to England, though?” Kara continues, unheeding of Alex’s absorption in the text, as she spears herself a piece of ham. “Forget Eliza, I think even J’onn is ready to come and drag you back himself.”

“Not until this case is closed.” Alex says. “And I’m using my vacation days. J’onn can’t complain. It’s not like I’ve ever used them before.”

“Alex, the point of vacation days is that you’re supposed to use them on vacation.” Kara explains patiently.

“Uh-huh.” Alex says, swiping at her cheek absentmindedly, as she flips another page in her book.

“Eat!” Kara groans. “Why are you reading at the breakfast table?”

She slaps some bread on Alex’s plate, and forks over some ham and eggs from her own plate. That gets Alex’s attention, as she stares down at the utter miracle of Kara offering food to someone else.

“Your work can wait half an hour.” Kara tells her sternly. “I don’t think Maggie wants you to be reading yourself to death.”

Alex suddenly chokes on the piece of ham that she had just shoved into her mouth, and goes into a coughing fit.

“Careful, dummy!”

Alex gulps down a glasses of water until the coughing subsides, then goes back to shovelling eggs down her throat with one hand, and flipping pages of her book with the other, praying for Kara to drop the subject. Kara being Kara, of course, does not.

“You know, this Maggie.” she begins, her tone taking a studied casual tone. “You’ve been around her place a lot.”

“So what?” Alex says, instantly feeling defensive for some reason. “She’s working the case with me. Of course I have to go check in with her.”

“Right.” Kara says, around a mouthful of eggs. “It’s just, James says you’ve barely checked in at headquarters for the past two weeks.”

“It’s alone at Maggie’s.” Alex argues. “It’s peaceful. I don’t have to keep listening to the idiots at the Magical Congress whine on.”

“James isn’t an idiot.” Kara puts in. “You were just saying the other day about how helpful he was in checking over your work on the protective charms that you were casting around the forest.”

“Ok, fine, he’s the rare exception.” Alex allows. “But, I just don’t want to be bothered with the whole lot of them. This is my case.”

“Right.” Kara says, turning back to her eggs, seemingly fully absorbed in gobbling them up.

A little while later, though, she speaks again.

“Alex?”

“What now?” Alex sighs.

“You know it’s alright if you’re at hers just because you like being there, right?” Kara asks, still focused on spooning eggs onto her fork. “You know that?”

Alex stares at her, feeling very much like a deer in headlights.

“Right?” her sister prompts.

Alex swipes at her cheek again, something that’s become a bit of a habit, and realizes this time that it’s at the same spot where Maggie’s thumb had grazed.

“Yeah.” she mumbles, swallowing and turning back to her book.

---

“I know about the reason behind the disappearances.” Alex says into silence one afternoon, shattering Maggie’s absorption as she reads her way through yet another outdated newspaper.

Maggie stares at her, before putting down the five-year old copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Or well, I think I know.” Alex amends, looking too serious under her scrutiny for Maggie to suspect her of a joke.

Maggie looks over the small lake, on whose shore they are sitting by. It’s peaceful here, a secret place that she’s found while adventuring over the fields. Her and Alex have made it their impromptu meeting spot, for when they get too stifled sitting in the house for hours on end. As she looks at the bright summer sky above, and the birds skimming over the water of the lake, Maggie considers the strong likelihood that whatever Alex has to tell her is going to ruin the serenity of it all.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I’ve been doing some research,” Alex says, “into the kind of books that you can’t really find in common circulation.”

She hesitates, looking at Maggie uncertainly.

“It’s horrible.” she says, her voice small.

What could be so horrible that Alex can’t even figure out how to articulate it?

“Alex.” Maggie says gently. “Just tell me.”

“Do you know what a Horcrux is?” Alex asks.

The name strikes something in Maggie’s mind. A whispered word, something she’d heard bandied about by her seniors in the Auror Department, back when they had been chasing down all those imitation Dark Lords that had sprung up in the wake of Voldemort. Try as she might, though, Maggie can’t put an association to the word, so she just shakes her head.

“But you know, at least, that in England, there are some books that were destroyed out of circulation because the Ministry felt they were too dangerous.” Alex persists.

Maggie nods. It’s an argument that she and Alex have had previously, on the merits of censorship versus freedom to knowledge.

“This is one of those books.” Alex admits, taking a small and clearly old book out of her coat. “My friend’s copy.”

“And you think you’ve found your answer in there?” Maggie asks, watching Alex’s worried face for clues as to what could possibly be lying in those pages.

Alex flips through until she gets to what she’s looking for, before passing the book over to Maggie.

“Can you read those three pages?”

There’s silence, as maggie reads the text, her normally placid face twisting with revulsion as she delves deeper into the subject. When she finishes, Maggie hands the book back to her, lips bitten to hold back her initial reaction.

“You think this is what happened to them? All the disappeared wizards?”

Alex nods.

“Splitting your soul apart, by committing a murder and desecrating the body.” Maggie muses, feeling her stomach turn.

The feeling grows worse, as she does the math, counting back all the unexplained disappearances throughout the years, that they’ve managed to track down.

“Alex, those were a lot of people. Almost fifty. And that’s just the ones we were able to track down.”

“I know.” Alex says quietly.

“Killing endangered animals, murdering people.” Maggie says. “What kind of person would be drive to such a thing? What could possibly be worth all that?”

“I don’t know.” Alex draws a confused breath out. “I mean, would such a person even be human, anymore? How many times can you split a soul, before if forgets who it was?”

Maggie, entirely out of place with such an existential questions, shifts uncomfortably

“You’re right.” Alex murmurs, catching her reaction. “None of that matters. We just have to catch them, before they hurt more people.”

She looks haunted, like the weight of the entire world is pressing down on her shoulders, so Maggie reaches out and cups her face, tracing the dark shadows hollowing out her eyes.

“You doing ok?” she asks. “You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping well.”

It’s when Alex’s eyes flick to her hand, and back to her face, that Maggie realizes how wildly inappropriate that was. She makes to draw back, as if burned, but there is Alex’s own hand shooting out lightning fast, holding her wrist in a vice-like grip so that that it doesn’t shift the slightest.

“I’m fine.” Alex says.

Maggie feels the muscles of her face shift under her fingers, as she speaks. She’s staring at Maggie with her mouth slightly parted, and her tired eyes are so intense that Maggie is the one to look away first.

“This is worse than anything I imagined.” Maggie says, feeling the iron grip slack, as she turns away. She pulls herself away together, and turns back to face Alex. “Even if you’re right about your suspicions, how can we stop a person like that?”

“I don’t know. We have to try, somehow.”

Maggie falls silent, wondering what new difficulties they’ve gotten themselves into. Perhaps M’gann was right, perhaps there are some things that they cannot fight.

“Your aunt died fighting them, didn’t she?” Alex asks, into the disturbed silence.

Maggie looks back at her, startled.

“The people who came around trying to destroy the graveyard.” Alex says. “Your aunt died fighting people like them, right?”

Maggie recalibrates at the unexpected change of subject and looks down, nodding.

“She faced down four.” she says, feeling her voice quieten. “It was the middle of night; she wasn’t even really prepared for them. They were shooting stunning spell after stunning spell at her, trying to get her down. The four of them hexing her at once... she never had a chance, at her age.”

She hadn’t been there. Maggie only remembers Apparating to the scene near the end of the fight, the red after-halo of the stunners still curling around in the night air. She remembers holding her aunt in her arms, listening to her gasp for words, while screaming at James to go get help, unwilling to accept that it was too late.

Alex’s arm grips her hand again, stopping Maggie’s fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Someone should have done something.” Alex says fiercely. “They should have paid for that.”

“They got a few months in jail.” Maggie says, shrugging. “They just used stunning spells, no Unforgivables.”

“But, she died.”  

“The defense argued it was a weak heart.” Maggie says. “We could never prove otherwise.”

Alex doesn’t raise any more protests.

“She was everything I had.” Maggie says, quietly, and she feels a hand come to splay around her back, warm and solid and comforting.

Her aunt had been full of fire, of defiance, right to the very end. She had protected the graveyard with a violent defiance of convention. Sometimes, Maggie suspects it was the same spirit that had urged her to take Maggie in, rather than nobler principles like love or loyalty.

Maggie had never been able to quite muster that sort of feeling. She’d taken to guarding the graveyard because there was no one left after her aunt to do it. Her parents certainly didn’t care.

Now, she thinks of something in the forest hurting innocent people and endangered animals, for power, and she feels that fire, that anger within, and she knows that this is probably what her aunt had felt, too.

“You’re right.” she looks back at Alex, sees her own determination mirrored in those liquid brown eyes. “We may not know how to stop this... this Worldkiller, but we have to try.”

---

“Why do you keep smiling at your phone?” Kara asks Alex abruptly one day, as they walk down yet another crowded street of New York’s underground magical market, on yet another harebrained excursion of hers. “Is a case following up on dead magical animals really that amusing?”

“Shut up.” Alex says half-heartedly, immediately putting the phone.

“Or, is it just Maggie that’s making you smile like that?” Kara guesses.

“You don’t even know if that was her I was texting.”

“Of course it’s Maggie.” Kara says matter-of-factly. “You only get that goofy smile when you’re talking about her, or to her.”

“Call me goofy again, and I’ll turn you into the actual dog.” Alex promises.

When she turns to Kara again, her sister is studying her with an evaluating look.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Kara asks abruptly.

Alex’s jaw works. All of a sudden, she remembers how good that bootleg Firewhisky had looked, in the stall that they had passed a few blocks back.

“It’s not like that.” she says, pushing that treacherous thought away.

“So what is it like?” Kara asks.

“Why won’t you just let it go?” Alex asks, frustratedly. “Why do you keep bringing this up?”

“Because that’s what’s been wrong this - with us - all along.” Kara says, pointing between them as she walks. “You push yourself inside, and tell me to let things go, and I do that, without actually listening to you or really taking into account how you feel. I’m trying to change that. It’d nice, if you could play along.”

She looks very serious all of a sudden, not at all the dorky and somewhat oblivious younger sister that Alex is used to seeing her as. Alex lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t know.” she admits, sidestepping to let a family pass by them. “I don’t know what it’s like.”

All she knows is that, the past few weeks working side by side with Maggie, have been some of the best weeks of her life. She likes the days by their secret lake, and the afternoons in Maggie’s house, and the nights just walking through the fields or the farmer’s market. She likes Maggie too, the way the light catches her hair, and the way her cheeks almost disappear under her dimples when she’s really laughing, and she really likes how damn sharp she is.

And what she really doesn’t like is how temporary all of it feels, like snatches stolen out of someone else’s life.

“Look, if this case ended tomorrow,” Kara says, reflecting her own thoughts, “And you had to leave, wouldn’t you regret not making a move?”

Alex exhales again, unwilling to admit that such a worry has been consuming a large part of her thoughts for the past week.

“You know, I’ve been so confused about this.” Kara says, as she steers them towards an art stall. “When I came out, I thought that would have made it easier for you, and that’s why I’ve been so confused. But, maybe that just sidelined you and made you clam up even more.”

“Kara!” Alex says, horrified. “It’s not like that; you know it’s not!”

“Is it not?” Kara looks entirely unconvinced. “Look, alright. How about this?”

“How about what?” Alex asks warily.

“I’ll let the Maggie thing go.” Kara concedes. “But, how about someone else, in the future-”

“No!” Alex is surprised by how forcefully the words come out. She stares at the stall ahead of them, shocked by her own vehemence, and unable to meet Kara’s gaze, which has turned evaluating again.

But, that exclamation forces Alex to face the one thing she can’t run away from.

“I don’t think this is just about me being gay.” she admits, finally. “It’s about Maggie, too.”

That’s why she can’t run this time, she realizes. Maggie had taken the general, which Alex had been able to push away, and made it very, very personal. Alex, for the first time, can’t escape. Nor, she realizes, does she want to.

“Ok.” Kara’s voice is soft, without a hint of I-told-u-so to it.

Alex resists the urge to massage her forehead, unable to fully articulate what she’s feeling. All she knows is that she had been alright before Maggie, she had been surviving. She would survive after Maggie too, if need be, but there would always be something missing. Something that only Maggie had awoken, in the part of Alex that hadn’t know what a warmth against her cheek, or a solid body pressed beside hers, could truly feel like. And Alex might be a champion at running from things, but she knows herself well enough to know that it’s going to be a long time before she’ll find another woman with whom it clicks like that.

“What do I do?” she mumbles. “There should be a fucking manual.”

“I don’t know.” Kara says, from her side, sounding a little rueful. “But, Alex, I think maybe that talking to Maggie is the first step.”

---

Talking to Maggie, of course, turns out to be easier said than done. Whenever they’re alone, there’s so much research to get through on the case, that Alex never seems to get Maggie onto the subject that’s really running through her mind. Maybe part of it is her own fear of failure, too, she admits to herself, after their fourth meeting when she had failed to bring it up.

By the fifth, Alex knows that things can’t go on as they have been. Something has to be done, to stop her from running through her feelings obsessively in her head, unable to stray far from them except when she’s buried in her work.

“I’ve been thinking about this case.” Maggie says, now, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she is sitting next to a tense bundle of sheer nerves. “What happens to it, if something happens to both of us?”

“What do you mean?” Alex asks, barely listening.

“I mean that it’s time we submitted our findings to the Auror Department.” Maggie replies. “At the least, we should send them a copy of all our research files, as a backup in case something goes wrong.”

“Yes.” Alex murmurs. “Alright, that makes sense.”

“Ok, I’ll call James up tomorrow.” Maggie says, after a slight pause and a glance askance at her.

She continues talking, but Alex’s mind just can’t seem to focus at the moment, not on their research or on the case. Instead, it’s Kara words - just talk to her! - that are knocking around in her mind, endlessly, like electrons bouncing around in the world’s smallest particle accelerator.

“Right?” Maggie finishes, clearly looking to Alex for confirmation of something she had just said.

Aex simply shakes her head, unable to focus on anything other than Maggie, feeling not even the professional curiosity that their discussions usually engender in her. Instead, her attention seem to be drawn to all the wrong things. The way Maggie’s back curves against her seat, her cavernous dimples, the way her hair tumbles in soft waves over the diminutive slice of her shoulders. Her hands, with the fingers stark-veined and long and perfect .

“You okay?” Maggie asks, her smile turning puzzled in Alex’s continued silence.

Alex reaches out and traces her fingers down Maggie’s cheek, feeling her breath hitch. Her heart is galloping fit to break out of her ribs, and she can foresee a hundred ways this could go wrong, but she keeps her gaze focused on Maggie’s.

“I wasn’t listening.” she confesses. “Sorry.”

Maggie just shakes her head, eyes open wide, as Alex moves closer, close enough to feel the warmth of their bodies in proximity.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Alex murmurs, fingers moving down to curl around her jawline. “For weeks now, actually.”

Maggie watches her silently, her steady breathing unfurling over Alex’s face, but she doesn’t answer.

“Am I wrong, in thinking that you might have been, too?” Alex prompts, her voice lowering, but unable to hide the ring of uncertainty even at the lower range. “If I’m wrong, just tell me, and I can just- I’ll be fine.”

Before she can continue that impossible lie, because she would never be fine, there are hands rising towards her face, drawing her closer, impossibly close. It’s Maggie who closes the last inch of distance between them, who chases Alex’s lips, who frames steady hands around Alex’s face to align their mouths against each other. It’s Maggie who takes Alex’s bottom lips between her teeth, grazing at it in a way that has Alex releasing a sigh, who licks at Alex’s mouth until she opens, ready and waiting for Maggie to take what she wants. Who licks against the roof of Alex’s mouth, and slides against her tongue, again and again, until Alex is utterly lost in the sensation, able to communication only in keening and inarticulate sounds.

But, it’s also Maggie who pushes back suddenly, as if the touch burns, as if this one moment of indiscretion had been too much. Alex blinks, trying to break out of it, but still utterly lost in the sensation of that one perfect kiss.

“Do you feel that?” Maggie asks.

“Yes.” Alex murmurs, eyes still closed, savouring the memory of that fleeting press of lips.

“No.” Maggie’s voice is insistent. “Alex, the ground! Do you feel that?”

Even as Alex pulls back, and opens her eyes, she realizes exactly what Maggie is talking about. The very ground beneath them seems to be trembling. She’s heard of earth-shaking kisses, but this is a bit much.

“We never have earthquakes here.” Maggie says, getting up. “Something is wrong.”

As she speaks, there is a cacophony of noise from outside, that grows louder with each passing moment, just as the vibrations grow more pronounced.

“It’s coming out of the forest.” Alex says, stalking out to the door, and turning in the direction of the sound.

She doesn’t get much further, before Maggie hurriedly pulls her back into the house.

“Watch out!”

Alex finds herself pulled back in just as a herd of moose thunder past them, having appeared out of the darkness all of a sudden, without warning. They would have flattened her, if she were still standing where she had been, but they flow around the house, diverted by the protection charms all around it.

The moose are not the only event of the night. Alex and Maggie flatten themselves against the window of the house, watching as herds of centaurs and fiery salmanders and skittering giant spiders stream by, moving as fast as they can.

“They’re running away from the forest.” Alex yells at Maggie, over the noise.

“They’re going to get past the magical boundaries soon, at this rate.” Maggie shouts back, watching anxiously out the window. “The No-Majs will see them, and then we’ll have a nightmare of a cover-up job on our hands!”

“Only one way to stop them, then.” Alex says, grabbing Maggie’s hand and tugging her out, casting a shielding charm around the two of them, before running in the direction of the forest. “We need to find out what the hell is going on in there.”

---

Maggie wastes no time in casting a finding charm to take her to M’gann, as soon as she as Alex enter the forest at a dead run. It takes her a few tries to get it right, impeded by all the protective enchantments around the forest, but eventually the spell leads her into the path of the centaur, who seems to be quite busy right then, with herding all the fleeing beasts into some semblance of order.

“M’gann!” Maggie calls out for her attention, as the two of them rush over. “What is going on?”

Despite all the ruckus around them, the centaur turns to face them in a stately manner.

“The end of worlds is loose in the forest.” M’gann informs them, voice as calm as ever. “They plan to destroy everything in here, every living and magical being, to fuel their lifeblood.”

Alex and Maggie look at each other, before a determined look comes onto Alex’s face and she forges forward in the direction everything else is fleeing from. M’gann immediately steps in front of her.

“Did you not hear me?” the centaur demands. “Run away, you two. Save yourselves!”

Maggie suddenly understands all the animals streaming past them, out of the forest.

“No.” she says. “We have to stop them. We have to do something.”

“What you have to do is run.” M’gann insists. “Live to fight another day. The stars prove there is no winning against the destroyer of worlds. They are too powerful.”

“And what about the animals who can’t run fast enough to escape?” Alex interrupts coldly.

“We’re doing our best to get everyone out.” M’gann says. “You two putting yourselves in danger is not helping anyone.”

Maggie intervenes before the two can argue further.

“None of us can outrun the Worldkiller forever.” she says, “M’gann, we have to stop them. It’s the only way.”

M’gann shakes her head in frustration, as she looks between their determined faces.

“I suppose there is no convincing either of you.” she says.

As one, they shake their head. M’gann only sighs, and then lays a hand on each of their heads.

“Farewell, then.”

She casts a final regretful look at them, before returning to her task of herding the confused animals together, and pointing them out in the right direction to leave the forest.

Alex and Maggie look at each other, and strike out in the exact opposite direction.

---

To Alex, it seems like they run through the forest for hours. As they head in deeper, the stream of animals rushing past them trickles down, until there is only the two of them left. The forest becomes silent then, quiet as the grave, and still Maggie and Alex forge forward, intent on their target.

“Do we even know if this is the right way?” Alex asks in some frustration, as they push through yet another cove of trees. “We could be walking in circles, for all we know.”

As she continues to shove aside branches to clear a path, Maggie suddenly grabs her arms, silently motioning for quiet.

“Listen.”

The eerie silence of the forest that had persisted in the absences of the animas, is now replaced by a distant rumble like thunder, like hundred of feet pounding the ground in unison.

“Those are not the runaways returning, I’m guessing.” Alex says, as the rhythmic thumping grows stronger.

“No.” Maggie says slowly. “It’s not.”

They stand transfixed, unable to tell where exactly the sound is coming from, until the source is quite closeby.

“There!” Alex says, point at what’s coming through the thicket behind them.

Their pursuers look humanoid, but are stooped over and pale grey, like all the colour had been leeched out of human skin. The way they walk, too, is a parody of human motion: ambling forward, hunched and undulating, on two legs.

“Those are Inferi.” Maggie says shakily. “The Worldkiller has reanimated corpses from graveyard to come after us. Bright side? We’re probably on the right path.”

“That’s not a bright side.” Alex murmurs back absent-mindedly, staring in horror at the horde coming for them.

She looks back behind her, and comes to a split-second decision.

“Let me fight them.” she tells Maggie. “I’ll hold them off. You know the forest best. Go. Find the Worldkiller, and stop them.”

“There are too many of them, Alex.” Maggie says, watching the encroaching group of Inferi and shaking her head. “I’m fighting with you.”

“Every moment we waste, the Worldkiller will be busy draining the life of everything that lives here.” Alex argues. “Maggie, please go. Find them.”

Maggie looks lost, staring up into her eyes.

“I can’t lose you.” she says, voice trembling. “I can’t let you do this.”

Without second guessing herself, Alex steps forward, pulls Maggie up by twining her hands behind her neck, and presses their mouths together. She kisses her with reckless abandon, unwilling to let reason - or the threat of their impending doom - invade. Teeth and noses get in the way of eagerness, but she muddles her way through, finding a rhythm against Maggie’s lips that is both soothing and demanding, and matched with equal fervour by maggie. She kisses Maggie like she’s already hers, and from the way Maggie sighs into her mouth, the way her tongues slides against hers easily, Alex realizes that probably goes both ways.

She pulls back, not for want of air, but in defiance of the mournful tone of that last sigh.

“Don’t do that.” She demands, eyes burning into Maggie’s. “Don’t kiss me like it’s goodbye. You’re coming back to me, alright? We’re going to get through this.”

“Alex-” Maggie murmurs, eyes darker than her usual brown.

“No.” Alex shakes her head vehemently, before cradling Maggie’s face between her hands. “I’ve waited over thirty years of my life for you, Maggie Sawyer, and I’m not letting go of you now. Have you got that?”

Her voice breaks by the last part, and Maggie’s eyes are overbright, too, but she nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

And then the Inferi are on them, and Alex is drawing her wand out, and Maggie is disappearing into the thicket behind her.

---

As Maggie steps deeper into the forest, away from Alex, it becomes clear that something is very, very wrong. Whereas before she had been fighting her way through brambles and branches in pitch dark, now she finds herself emerging into a clearing, the night chill of the forest giving way to a sharper winter nip. Maggie realizes that she is not in the forest anymore. Instead, she is standing on paved sidewalk in a frosty Nebraskan winter, hesitating outside a familiar doorstep.

Maggie freezes as soon as she realizes this, but the door to the house is already opening. The warm light from inside pours out, as a stout woman rushes out and fusses over Maggie, brushing away snow from the collar of her coat. (Since when had she been wearing a coat? It’s midsummer in New York).

“Mags? Oh goodness, look at you, you’re frozen.”

Maggie blinks. Mags? No one calls her that. At least, no one has called her that in years.

“Honey, was the traffic that bad?” her mother asks, as she flutters around Maggie anxiously, leading her inside, helping her take off her coat, and lay her bag aside in the hallway. “Or was your department head keeping you late again? You should let your father talk to him. He shouldn’t be keeping a newly married girl late every night like that, working like a dog.”

“What?” Maggie stammers out, hesitating in the hallway.

“Well, go in.” Her mother gestures her through to the dining room with some impatience. “The dinner is getting cold, and we’ve been waiting for you. You’re lucky you married someone so patient. Wouldn’t let us eat until you got back, you know.”

Mags.

Maggie shakes her head. Of course her mother had called her that. She always has. And her father calls her that sometimes too, when she drops by his office at work, on her way to her own cubicle.

Maggie enters the dining room, and there’s her father at the end of the table as usual, reading his newspaper. He puts it aside as she enters, smiling that crinkly-eyed reserved smile that he only uses for her.

“Ah, Margherita.” he says. “We’ve been waiting for you, as I’m sure you mother’s already said.”

He smiles at her mother, and her mother smiles back, before they beam at Maggie in unison. Maggie finds herself smiling back, because this is the precious sight that she’s come back to for the past five years, ever since she’d graduated and her father had brought her into his squad at the Auror Department, as a junior trainee, and she had worked her way up to Auror, right by his side.

She finds her way to her usual place at the table, that’s always set empty for her, until she gets there. Just as she’s sitting down, a new voice calls out to her.

“Maggie?”

All the smiles around the table freeze, and her mother is trying to catch her gaze, but Maggie is already looking back, towards the hallway, where her aunt is standing, snow blowing through the open door with her.

“I’m sure it’s very warm in there.” her aunt says, smiling. “But, won’t you take a walk with me outside? I think we’ve got a lot of things to catch up on.”

Maggie looks hesitantly around the table.

“Margherita, you must be hungry.” her father says. “Eat, and then go. Your aunt can wait.”

The food spread around the table reaches Maggie’s nose now. Good food, the fancy kind she’s never been able to make herself. She’s always been a middling cook, and her aunt not much better. It was her mother that had got that talent in the family, her aunt had always told her.

“Maggie.” her aunt insists from the doorway. “I need to talk to you. Now, please.”

“Mags, we waited so long for you to return, love.” her mother pleads. “Please stay.”

It’s so cold outside. Maggie can feel the chill slicing into her back, coming in through the open door. A memory pierces through the fog clouding her mind, then, sharper than any of the hazy remembrances that she’s conjured up so far. It’s the same bitter cold as the day she had waited outside at fourteen years old, waiting for her aunt to pick her up after her parents had kicked her out.

The same aunt who’s waiting for her at the door now.

“I’ll be just a minute.” Maggie mumbles, taking another look at her parents - her gaze is blurry, she’s crying, why is she crying? - before scraping her chair back, and heading for the hallway.

When she reaches the door, her aunt takes her hand and does not release it, leading her out into the street, where the snow is swirling in bitter cold, and indistinct figures are rushing by them. Maggie realizes that she had left her coat behind, but it doesn’t seem to bother her aunt, who only smiles up at her serenely.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it, to dream of happier times, once in a while?” she asks.

“I missed you.” Maggie whispers. “ Zia , I missed you so much.”

She gets a sad smile back.

“Of course I missed you.” her aunt says. “But, Maggie, the time for dreaming is over.”

“No.” Maggie shakes her head vehemently. “Not so soon. Please.”

“It’s time to go home now, Maggie.” her aunt says, shaking her head indomitably, although her expression is still kind. “I think some part of you already knew that. You were always too much of a realist, to be taken in by this sort of thing.”

“But, I love you.” Maggie whimpers. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You already have.” her aunt says ruefully. “There are other people in your world, though.”

“Maybe. “Maggie says. “But, it won’t have you.”

“No, not me.” her aunt shakes her head. “I love you very much, darling girl, but I’m gone. There are others though, who will miss your light in this world, don’t you know?”

“No.” Maggie shakes her head. “They might need me, but they don’t love me.”

“Don’t be so sure.” her aunt cautions her. “And even if they only needed you, I know your heart. You would go become what they need.”

Maggie falls silent. After all, what use is it to argue with yourself?

“You know, I read something read in a book once.” her aunt says, and quotes, “It does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live.”

Maggie finds herself smiling through her tears, which just won’t stop.

“You always were a bookworm.” she accuses, in between sniffles.

“And I passed that on to you.” her aunt says proudly. “And now, it’s time for me to pass you onto someone else.”

There’s people rushing by them in the streets, indistinct faces and figures that Maggie can’t get a solid hold on. She thinks she catches James walking by with a briefcase, or that she sees M’gann’s figure through the bright window of a bar, but her aunt is looking ahead at a figure under a streetlight. It’s hard to make it out in the darkness and snow swirling around them, but Maggie sees the tall and proud bearing, and the dark hair chopped off at the shoulders.

That’s when her aunt chooses to let go of her hand, and looks up at Maggie with a watery smile.

“Don’t forget to live, darling girl.”

And even as Maggie walks forward alone towards that street light, she is back in the forest, stepping through the dark trees into a faintly lit clearing, where a tall figure all in black is waiting for her.

“You made it through the barrier charm.” the Worldkiller says, tilting their head, as if considering her. “Unexpected, but well done, Maggie Sawyer.”

---

Maggie has her wand out immediately, but some part of her already knows that she is too weak to put up any real fight against this wizard. As she waits in anticipation, though, no attack seems forthcoming. The Worldkiller simply studies her, the tilt of her head considering.

“You know who I am.” they say finally.

“And how do you know that I know that?” Maggie shoots back.

“That’s how that barrier charm works.” they reply. “They let me look into your heart, and use your very mind against you.”

They flick a hand back behind Maggie, as if pointing at some invisible fence, and utter two words that escape Maggie.

“We don’t take Latin here.” she says. “You’re going to have to translate, because I’ve never heard of that curse before.”

There’s a pause, before the reply comes.

“The Black Mercy curse.” The Worldkiller translates. “Of course you wouldn’t have heard of it. It was purged from the spellbooks centuries ago. Knowledge passes on, though.”

“So you trapped me.” Maggie surmises, feeling grimy tracks of dried tears shift on her cheeks, as she speaks. “In some kind of mind prison!”

“In your perfect fantasy world.” the Worldkiller corrects her. “I merely looked into your heart, and gave you what you wanted. A person could get lost in there, in their own mind, consumed by their heart’s deepest wish, until they gave up on life. I just wonder how you managed to break out of the curse.”

“I’ve had some experience climbing myself out of pits.” Maggie says. “I can’t say the same for you, Worldkiller.”

“Oh yes, that’s what they call me isn’t it?” they reply, amused. “It has a ring to it.”

“You got another name, then?” Maggie asks, with bravado she doesn’t quite feel. “A real one?”

For a moment, her adversary seems thrown off kilter, and pauses as if they are seriously considering her question.

“Sometimes, I seem to remember that I did.” they say, musingly. “Was it Sam? Julia? No, I don’t think it was either of those. It was something else, but it’s so hard to remember, these days-”

Maggie remembers the question Alex had posed all those weeks ago, when she had first suggested the possibility of Horcruxes. How many times could someone kill, and split their soul, before the soul forgot who it was?

“What have you done to yourself?” Maggie asks, horrified as those implications hit home. “How many innocent people did you kill? And for what? To live forever, while forgetting yourself?”

“You think immortality was my end goal?” the Worldkiller asks, in amused disbelief. “Silly child, it was only a means to achieve my ends.”

She pauses and stalks towards Maggie, seeming to loom taller with every step.

“This word needs cleansing. It can’t be done in a year, or a decade, or even two. Perhaps not even in a century. It needs to be broken down to its core, and rebuilt-”

She seems about to continue, but Maggie puts up a hand.

“The world sucks, you want to change it, I get it.” Maggie summarizes. “Spare me. I’m an Auror. I’ve heard that spiel a hundred times before, and it doesn’t sound anymore impressive coming from you, just because you’re dressed in figure-hugging black.”

She doesn’t see the hex coming, because the Worldkiller doesn’t raise a wand.  There’s just a snap of fingers, the flash of a red light, and Maggie is stumbling back, intense pain shooting up her arm from where the curse had hit. She can feel blood seeping out, but grits her teeth and ignores it.

“Is that impressive, then?” the Worldkiller asks idly.

“I see you’ve learned wandless magic.” Maggie says, unable to keep a slight hint of awe out of her voice. No one in living memory she knows of had mastered that, not beyond the simplest charms.

“I’ve wasted all this time trying to recreate the Elder Wand.” the Worldkiller says, seeming to shrug. “I decided to try... another approach.”

Another curse. This time Maggie is watching for the telltale flash of light, and manages to get out of the way of a stunning spell just in time, stumbling back to take cover between the trees.

“You’re not going to run, are you?” The Worldkiller asks, as another red light zaps through the trees, and Maggie stumbles out of the way again.

Maggie raises her own wand, fully aware that this is a hopeless, futile battle. What can she do against this being that had swallowed half a hundred souls, and lost itself in the process?

Still.

You would become what they need.

Maggie thinks of the beasts fleeing the forest in terror, and knows that they will never escape, not when the Worldkiller is loose, no matter how far they run.

“I’m not running.” she says, stepping back out into the clearing, wand hand outstretched. “Take your best shot, Worldkiller.”

---

Alex fights for what seems like an endless time, against the sea of Inferi swarming in her direction. When she blasts one back, two seem to take its place, coming in wave after wave, until Alex is near collapse from both mental and physical exhaustion. Her tenure as an Auror has taken her to situations that had tested her physical fortitude, but never this far. Despite her will to push through this situation, Alex finds herself morally conflicted, knowing that this is the disturbed dead that she’s fighting, people who had not chosen to do this to her, the same people whose graves that Maggie had sought to protect.

“I’m sorry.” she grits out, as she blasts yet another one back, watching the reanimated body explode into pieces. “You don’t deserve this. I’m sorry.”

Her apology is cut short by other Inferi approaching her. Alex grits her teeth, and prepares to throw another curse, knowing that if she fails, so many people - perhaps the whole world - would be in danger. After all, this was what she had become an Auror for, to protect people, just as much as Healers did. Somewhere along the way, Alex realizes, she had forgotten that.

It comes back clearly to her now, as she raises her wand again, her entire arm trembling with the exertion of it.

“I won’t fail, Maggie.” she murmurs, casting another curse.

As she fights and curses and hexes, though, even Alex has to come with the terms that she is, at the end of all things, human. Her wands sweeps out slower and slower, she stumbles, her legs start trembling from the effort of standing up for so long, and the wave of Inferi that she’s up against never seems to die down.

“I won’t-” Alex huffs out, trying to remember the words she had been repeating to herself for the past few hours, to keep herself going.

Fail.  She thinks the single world, as her entire body sways, and she teeters back, even as pale and clammy hands reach for her throat. Sorry, Maggie.

And then, there’s light blasting through the trees, evaporating the Inferi in its wake, and flattening Alex back against a tree trunk. Even as the Inferi disappear, grey and wispy mists rise into the air, floating their way slowly back through the trees, headed in the direction of the graveyard.

She did it, Alex thinks, faintly.

---

Maggie had known she would be no match for the Worldkiller in a duel. As she stumbles back from yet another curse that she hadn’t seen coming fast enough to block, though, she realizes that she hadn’t thought of just how badly hurt she could be, over the course of such a duel.She’s tried to deflect with the best of her ability, and attack during the rare times when a chance presents itself, but the Worldkiller is just too strong, and their tells too subtle, for Maggie to make much headway.

Her head swims as she picks herself up from the ground again, and her entire body seems to be a mass of bruises. She knows the Worldkiller could end her with a single killing curse, but they seem to want to play with their food instead, plying her with painful hex after hex, rather than delivering a killing blow.

“Why do you bother?” the Worldkiller asks now, when she stumbles to her feet again. “Who are you fighting for?”

Maggie spits out blood, and raises her wand again.

“Stupefy.” she croaks out, ignoring the question in favour of saving her breath for spellwork.

The red light of her spell is deflected by the Worldkiller like someone else would swat away an insect, but there isn’t a retaliatory curse, this time.

“This world has never been kind to you, wizards or otherwise.” the Worldkiller presses. “The No-Majs hunted down your powers as something to revile. Your own family turned you out for whom you loved, and other wizards stole the life of the woman who took you in. And yet, here you are, protecting the world that stole your happiness from you.”

They force Maggie down to her knees, but kneel down themselves, face to face, and Maggie finally gets a hint of features through the black mast. There are eyes behind there, human eyes of an indistinct color, watching her thoughtfully.

“Why would you protect these people? What have they done to deserve it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Maggie grits out, summoning the last vestiges of her strength. “You’re going to kill me anyway. I don’t have to explain myself to you, and you don’t have to waste your time explaining yourself to me, because we are never going to see each other’s side. You can give that up, right now.”

“Very well.” the Worldkiller pronounces the words like a final judgment.

They raise their hand again. It is a green light that sparks around the fingertips, now.

And Maggie knows that, as the Worldkiller rises and looms above her, it is the final judgment, at least for her. That doesn’t mean she has to go out without a fight.

So, she gets her wand out, and she throws out the first spell her aunt had ever taught her, when Maggie had first come to live with her. As she casts it, Maggie thinks not of herself, but of Alex fighting for her life in the forest, and M’gann, the Thestrals, of everyone who calls this forest home.

“ Protego!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

The green curse meets the red shield. There’s a outpouring of sound, like a hundred voices finding release all at once, and then Maggie is blasted back by a force wave.

---

Alex stays flattened against the tree trunk as the force wave passes by her, confused at what to expected. Had Maggie really won, or this is actually a sign of the Worldkiller’s triumph? She looks madly around the clearing, hoping for some sign of where to go, but there is only darkness all around her, and she feels too spent to cast even the simplest lighting spell.

After fighting her way through trees and thickets, repeatedly calling out Maggie’s name, Alex stumbles right back to where she had started from, almost in tears from frustration. Maggie is out there somewhere, maybe dying, maybe fighting for her life, and Alex can’t find her. Can’t find the one person who had reminded her that life was about more than solving cases and coming out on top. Can’t find the person who had made her feel that her cheek existed to be caressed, her lips to be kissed, her body to be cradled lovingly, as if she were something precious, and not a fighting machine.

“I can’t.” Alex says, to herself, hiccuping in the middle of the sentence, as she looks around, and then she firms her tone. “I won’t.”

She grits her teeth, and prepares to forge forward into the forest once again, when suddenly, a silver light through the trees makes her blink.

---

When the force wave breaks, Maggie collapses to the ground. There is no Worldkiller, she can see that much, when she lifts her head and surveys the clearing. There is just the black cloak, which flutters in the wind for some moments, before falling slack onto the forest floor. As she lies there on the ground beside it, ducking in and out of consciousness, Maggie sees more and more grey wisps disappears into the forest, voices leaving with them. Some are womens’ voices, some male, some indistinct, and some are mere children’s.

Maggie takes a gurgling breath and studies the meagre stars she can spot through the thick lattice of tree branches above. She wonders if Alex will find her in time, or if she’s going to die here. It won’t be too bad if it pans out that way, Maggie thinks. The forest is safe, now.

As she studies the stars, and watches their silver light streaming down, a strange hope overtakes her. Her aunt’s face swims in her memory, telling her not to forget to live. There is Alex, too, telling her how she had waited thirty years for her.

Maggie remembers how she had never been able to cast a Patronus after her aunt died. All her happy memories been tainted by then, with either estrangement or death. There had been nothing there, no unruined memory, that she could harness for the charm.

“Fuck.” Maggie gets out, and scrabbles against the ground, until her fingers grip her wand.

Shakily, she holds it up and remembers all those happy memories that she had repressed. Maggie remembers them now, not as the precursors to loss, but as something to be loved and cherished during their time, before giving way to other things. Perhaps better things.

To Alex . Maggie thinks of that shy smile, the proud tilt of head, the determined tuck of chin, and she whispers out the words of the spell she had not been able to cast in almost five years.

---

Alex holds her breath, as the silvery light approaches her through the trees.

It flies into her sight of view quite swiftly, a silvery eagle that swoops through air, before slowing down and circling around her. Alex extends a trembling hand out, and the silvery bird lands as softly as a feather, unlike the painful clutch of a real bird that would have torn her flesh apart.

“Take me there.” Alex requests of Maggie’s Patronus.” Lead me to her, please.”

---

Maggie is almost about to pass out from the pain, when there is the sound of rushing feet. She smiles as Alex skips to a stop above her, already murmuring healing spells without bothering to stop, or cry, or even say a greeting.

“Knew... you’d... come” Maggie gets out between laboured breaths.

“Shut up.” Alex’s voice commands her, in-between spells. “Shut up, you idiot.”

She’s still muttering spells, when Maggie reaches up to stroke the strands of short hair falling down into her face. That’s when Alex starts crying, big tears that fall on Maggie’s face, making her squint.

“Kiss me.” Maggie says, between laboured breaths. “Alex, please.”

Alex makes her wait until she’s finished every last healing spell, before trembling fingers frame Maggie’s face, and lips meet her own, soft and featherlight, as if afraid of breaking her. Maggie sighs in satisfaction into her mouth, urging her down closer, wanting to lose her pain in the feel of Alex.

They’re still kissing when M’gann thunders into the clearing, followed closely by Kara and James, rushing in to save them.

---

But, all that was three years ago.

Nowadays, the graveyard is still untouched, guarded as ferociously as ever by the woman who had taken that duty on. There’s been no new additions to it, and the grass grows freely over it now. One day, perhaps it will grow tall enough to obstruct the graves it protects from both human eyes and memory.

Even though there have been no new additions to the graveyard, if you walk very deep into center of the forest, you’ll eventually come to a clearing. There are rows upon rows of headstones there. A lot of them have names. One doesn’t. There are almost fifty graves, comprising all the people that Alex and Maggie have managed to track down as victims of the Worldkiller. Maybe, if you stuck around long enough, you might even hear voices whispering their stories into the wind. Or, maybe that’s a just myth, started by some kids who got drunk and went out exploring into the forest.

But, such things are burdens heavier than two people alone to bear, so let’s move on to happier places instead. Like that house a few ways from the graveyard, which is twice as big now, from all the additions that the two women living there have made to it. Even now, one of those women is making her way to the house, jogging. There is a large German Shepherd trotting happily next to her.

“Next time, you’re going to be the one walking Gertrude.” Alex pants out, as she enters the house and takes off her running shoes. “That dog is just way too energetic.”

Even as she voices the complaint, she walks into the kitchen, and tucks her face from behind into the shoulder of Maggie, who’s charming tomatoes to dice themselves.

Maggie merely hums in response, and points at the halved onions on the cutting board, so Alex sets about charming them into self-chopping too.

“Hey, you’re the one who picked her.” Maggie says, now. “I wanted a corgi, but heaven forbid.”

“The day we’re getting a corgi is the day you’re laying me to rest in that graveyard of yours.” Alex states, before leaning over to press a kiss against Maggie’s cheeks, delighting in the way that still gets a instinctive smile out of her, even after three years together. “How was the patrol?”

“Good.” Maggie says, “The baby centaurs followed me around on my rounds, today. I think they’re getting used to me.”

“Look at you, goodwill ambassador.” Alex murmurs fondly, adroitly dodging the dishrag aimed at her.

“And how was your day at work, Ms. Deputy Head Auror?” Maggie asks, turning to face her. “Any idiots at the Congress ruin your day today?”

Alex smiles. Even after three years since her transfer from the Ministry of Magic to MACUSA, she has still not grasped an innate understanding of the workings of the Magical Congress. She wouldn’t give any of it up, though, even on the most hair-tearing days, when she had gotten to stay with Maggie in return.

“They were a lot less idiotic today.” she responds. “Then again, after three years, maybe I’m just getting used to their particular brand of idiocy.”

Maggie snorts, and goes back to sorting out the vegetables.

“Oh!” Alex says, remembering suddenly. “I had a call from J’onn today. He’s going to be tagging along with Mom, when she visits next month.”

“We have to prepare the guest bedrooms, then.” Maggie says, a focused look immediately entering her face. “Good thing we had that extension built in time.”

“It’s fine.” Alex waves it away. “They’re going to be staying in the city at Kara’s place. We’ll only have to put them up for a couple nights, most likely.”

She steps closer, as Maggie continues to look slightly anxious at the prospect of the visit.

“They aren’t going to start suddenly disliking you after three years of regular visits.” she says, fondly. “Relax, ok?”

“Mm-hmm.” Maggie reaches up to peck at her cheeks. “Why don’t you go take a nap before we head out to the market tonight? You look like you’re falling on your feet.”

“I’m fine.” Alex insists.

“No, you’re not.” Maggie says. “Sleep. Now.”

“Only if you’re joining me.” Alex says, pulling her backwards.”Come on, the veggies can wait.”

When they do tumble into bed, Alex just stares down at Maggie’s body below her, suddenly blindsided by the beauty looking up at her, as she sometimes gets.

“I do love you, you know.” she murmurs.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Maggie murmurs back, but she’s smiling.

“No, just you and Gertrude.” Alex informs her, depositing a kiss on her forehead.

“Sap.” Maggie says, but she’s smiling wide, her dimples as deep as caverns.

“Only for you.” Alex whispers, leaning down and capturing her lips.

They get in one kiss, before Gertrude trots into the room, placidly climbing up into the bed and hanging all over both of them, blissfully unaware of such concepts as “alone time” and “making-out-without-your-dog slobbering-all-over-you”.

“Ugh.” Alex says, but she directs the the dog off the bed only half-heartedly, before pressing a quick kiss to Maggie’s cheek. She drifts off to sleep by her side, actually fully content with the situation.

After all, they’ve already shared three years worth of kisses and love between them. What’s one lost opportunity, when they’ve got a whole lifetime of chances ahead of them?