january 1945
over the course of human history, there has been no question more debated than this: what happens when we die?
there have been many different interpretations of what the afterlife is. in many belief systems, it varies for good and bad people.
for those who are good, it is reincarnation as a higher being, or a utopian society, or bliss, or nothingness.
for bad people, there are many depictions of the forever punishment.
some conclude that it's hellscapes of fiery volcanos and lava and eternal burning.
but others say that hell is much more personal and much more specific. hell is an amalgamation of the specific horrors that haunted someone in their corporeal life.
so if sicaria was going to hell, the landscape would just be the headquarters of macusa.
the lobby reminded her of the muggle grand central station. it was where passengers from all over the city converged through one enormous room to get to another part of the city. each of the boroughs of the city correlated to a different department of macusa in sicaria's mind. the people who walked through the lobby always had on suits or business-formal clothing to showcase their shallow, performative self-importance. owls and paper planes flew above their heads, dropping piles of bird shit all over the floor, though it was immediately cleaned by unpaid house-elves. in the center sat a large machine that looked somewhat like a clock, showcasing different levels of threats that macusa was imminently dealing with. right now, the large hand sat at level three: high alert, as it consistently had since grindelwald's initial rise to power. everyone spared a cursory glance to it as they passed, though it always was on the same setting. aurors walked proudly through the crowd; chests puffed and shoulders back, reminding her vividly of how gryffindor and slytherin boys acted when they crossed each other in the halls of their school. secretaries, interns, and assistants skirted through the crowd trying desperately to balance the tasks that they were likely underpaid for, as well as avoiding confrontation with any of the higher-ups. the people who had their faces covered by identity charms were never spoken to, which was unsurprising due to the fact that anyone who may have recognized them wouldn't know who they were talking to. if there was one upside in sicaria's mind, it was that people rarely bothered her after she had been given clearance to be under constant identity protection.
by far some of the lowest points of her life had been giving testimony to lawyers while still high, giving mission reports as healers tended to her wounds, or being in the process of withdrawal and having to listen to people who didn't know her tell her all of her problems.
there had never been a good reason to enter this building, that much was clear to her. all of the positives stemmed from rectifying negatives. every problem that macusa solved in sicaria's life had stemmed from something that they caused. oftentimes, they didn't bother— leaving her to deal with her problems on her own.
she never had any reason to hide her drug addiction from macusa— they didn't care. the first time she had been reprimanded for it was after a situation in which she had botched a mission or some paperwork or some legal bullshit (she couldn't remember which; most of those points in her life were blurred), following which a different handler had essentially told her to do what she wanted, so long as it didn't affect her work.
she could be as high as a cloud on a mission and macusa wouldn't care as long as she was the executioner they wanted her to be.
sicaria couldn't help but feel dumbledore seemed to be slightly too invested in that portion of her life. it was none of his business, after all, and it didn't affect her work in the slightest, so why the hell did he care so much?
the list of questions about dumbledore only continued to lengthen.
"how did i know i'd be seeing you?" eileen vota said, looking up from her paperwork for only a slight second when sicaria pushed open her office door without asking.
"perhaps because you know that you've screwed me over and i am coming to prevent that from happening again," sicaria responded, leaning against the now-closed door.
vota gave sicaria a wry smile before pointedly looking down at her watch. "i have a meeting in fifteen minutes so if you could shorten your reprimand of me to that much time—"
sicaria scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes, far too exhausted to deal with her handler's passive-aggressiveness. eileen seemed to have given up on trying to recruit sicaria, as sicaria knew she eventually would. so far, she couldn't decide if she preferred groveling, brown-nosing vota or annoyed, domineering vota. the honesty was refreshing, but sicaria would miss the phony kindness. "it may have escaped your notice, but i also have things to do now, vota. i am only coming to ask for something."
eileen narrowed her eyes before putting on a show of making an amused expression. "prompt: dallas."
"response: philadelphia." sicaria leaned forward off of the wall. "i want a comprehensive list of everyone who knows my status as an agent as well as a photo. of those people, i want to know who knows i am at hogwarts. i also do not want anyone to know i asked for this."
vota spun her pen between her fingers while thinking, meeting sicaria's eye contact dead on. her hair was pulled back so tightly that sicaria could practically see the veins protruding just beneath the skin of her face. "for what purpose?"
merlin.
"why do you think?" she said, hiding her irritation under a monotonous tone. "i'd like to ensure that all of my future encounters are with people who don't know who i really am. i also need to piece together my own understanding of certain events since you refuse to tell me anything."
vota sat in silence as she absorbed sicaria's words and the implication behind them.
"a reasonable request," she admitted. slowly, she pulled a piece of paper from beneath her desk and wrote out a memo, instructing her personal secretary to complete the task in the next three days. she sent it off with a flourish of her wand and looked back toward sicaria, as if she was expecting a thank you.
sicaria only gave her a faint nod and stood from the chair. "have a lovely afternoon, eileen."
i'll thank this woman when she thanks me for giving her her goddamn career.
another idea suddenly struck sicaria. "do i need to go back immediately? i have business to attend to here."
"do you?" eileen eyed her warily, not bothering to hide her suspicion of sicaria. "will anyone notice your absence?"
she didn't allow herself to think about the true answer before she rushed out a response.
"it's the middle of the night there. everyone will be asleep when i get back either way."
"you talk like them now, have you noticed?" sicaria turned back and looked at vota, who was sitting a bit too relaxed. her hands were clasped together and she rested her forearms on the desk, showcasing a new, long scar that started at her wrist and disappeared up her sleeve. sicaria hadn't even known she was still in the field— or perhaps she wasn't. "the way you talk— i wonder just how much that school has changed you."
sicaria raised an eyebrow. "are you accusing me of something, eileen?"
vota smiled sanguinary— a threatening smile; one that sicaria recognized well. people only smiled like that when they knew something that they shouldn't, or when they had something up their sleeve. the only problem is that sicaria had no idea what it was. "never. i think you have far too much to lose to betray me."
don't forget yourself, sicaria scolded herself. she had been so wrapped up in her situation with dumbledore that she had nearly forgotten. vota is across the atlantic, but she is still the most potential threat. bad things happen when you don't control yourself.
"betraying you, hm?" sicaria chuckled dryly. "what happened to 'magical brethren' and 'the good of wizardkind'? forget yourself that quickly?"
"goodnight sicaria," eileen sang jovially, pulling a stack of memo's toward the center of her desk. "get some rest, dear. you'll need it."
sicaria closed the door behind her before she could get sucked into the conversation that vota obviously was trying to lure her into.
sicaria hastily put her identity charms back on before making the obscenely long trek to the presidents office.
on her way out of the department of magical law enforcement, the flash of cameras was nearly blinding as reporters shoved quick-quotes-quills into the faces of anyone who entered and exited. almost everyone knew better than to let even a word slip to the journalists, especially after an announcement as important as the one that had just come yesterday. reporters were just itching for a story to feed to the isolationists or interventionists— whichever one they could profit most off of.
"madam president has no impromptu appointments available today. please leave your name and reason for visit on the guest registry. have a magical day."
"agent 1231 to see president picquery." sicaria's voice came out as something she did not recognize.
the secretary blinked before jolting herself and looking through a list of names and agent numbers printed on a small sticker at the far corner of her desk. sicaria's was at the very bottom of the list of eight identities, among the names of world leaders, department heads, and aurors she had only seen in newspapers. agent 1231 was added in gold lettering, the newest addition to the list of people who could see president picquery on a moment's notice.
the secretary shot to her feet and scrambled around the desk. "my apologies, agent. right this way."
she hobbled down to the end of the hallway, heels clicking against the linoleum flooring to the large doors with the president's name engraved on them. the secretary knocked three times as sicaria jogged to catch up with the woman, who had surprisingly long strides. "agent 1231 to see you, madam president."
the door swung open and the secretary practically shoved sicaria in before closing it just as her body crossed the threshold.
"i thought i'd be seeing you soon." picquery said, placing concealment charms over everything that was sitting on her desk. "remove the identity charms, sicaria. i prefer looking at the people i speak to."
why does everyone keep saying that? i cannot possibly be that predictable.
"no need, i won't be here long." sicaria did not even sit in the chair that picquery offered her. she wanted to make it clear that she was not intending to stay. she only removed the charm that masked her voice. "i'm cashing in on one of the favors you said you owed me."
"so soon?" she said jokingly, but sicaria was on a mission today— one that could afford no distractions.
"i want a list," sicaria said. "a comprehensive list of every person who knows my status as an agent on this particular mission. every name with a photo as well. i also do not want anyone on that list to know i asked for this."
picquery eyed her for a second before nodding slowly— eerily reminiscent of vota's mannerisms.
"i also want executive access to the archives. the one only you can grant me, yeah?"
the woman hesitated for a moment, placing a cool, diplomatic façade over herself. "looking for anything in particular? the archives can be a bit overwhelming to navigate alone, and i'd be glad to accompany you if you'd be willing to wait until—" she glanced at the calendar on the wall that was filled with her tasks and meetings for the upcoming week. "—tomorrow afternoon."
sicaria's lip quirked in amusement. "isn't the point of executive access not to have anyone know what i am looking at? it would defeat the purpose to have you spying on me while you suspect i'm spying on you."
picquery flashed sicaria an unexpectedly warm smile, a glint in her eye that sicaria couldn't place. in that moment, she looked younger than sicaria had ever seen her, whether in person or in photos. "i forget how brilliant you are sometimes. very well, i shall not interfere in whatever you're searching for."
she raised an eyebrow. "who said i was searching for something? perhaps i need an original source for a history of magic assignment."
picquery did not conceal her laugh this time at sicaria's semi-joke semi-lie. her statement was the equivalent of saying none of your business.
"you really are something special. you hate politics, i can tell, but you're excellent at deconstructing political statements. the way you twist things— you'd make a great politician."
sicaria shifted her weight slightly— this was not the compliment picquery seemed to think it was. she cleared her throat before changing the subject off of the awkward beat it had been left on.
"if you plan on having an auror follow me through the archives," sicaria said conversationally, placing her hand on the doorknob. "i'd first like you to consider how much i could do to him and face no repercussions. just how much could i get away with, i wonder?"
the light amusement dissipated from the room faster than a candle submerged underwater. picquery's coolness was replaced with calculation as she tried to riddle out whether sicaria was bluffing or not.
sicaria was an unlosable asset now, and she was testing the waters of how much she could get away with. how much could she get away with?
sicaria stood perfectly still and silent as she waited several seconds for picquery to give a short, yet deliberate response.
"i'll keep that in mind."
sicaria smiled, though picquery couldn't see it, and extended a hand which picquery shook. "always a pleasure, madam president. pity i didn't vote for you."
"you voted for johnson over me?" she asked before she could stop herself, but realized her slip before she even finished the sentence. her face was almost embarrassed by the horror of her mistake. sicaria didn't hide her laugh. "damn—"
"i was underage the last election year, remember, madam president?" sicaria said, opening the door. "forgive me. i can never leave the room without leaving everyone with a conscience feeling immensely guilty. i'll see you soon, more than likely."
sicaria took a bit of pride in how she had handled today. she had asked vota and picquery for the same things, neither of which being privy to the other. if both were being entirely truthful, she should receive two nearly identical lists. of course she'd have to account for variation based on level of classification of certain names and identities, but outside of that, she'd just be able to tell who was lying to her. how much information were each of the women withholding from her, and why? with this list, she'd receive many of the missing pieces she was searching for.
who actually held the power?
sicaria was not planning on going to the archives today. she had too much politics swirling around in her mind to do any more research. besides, albus dumbledore seemed to be inhabiting the very back of her mind now, and he did not seem to want to go away.
digging through the archives right now would only pile more and more stress on to the workload of things her brain was fighting through right now. she needed to take some time to sort out her information before she added on to that pile.
the only thing that could change her mind was—
"barry!"
he turned around and furrowed his brow at the person who called his name. his expression softened as her wand waved over her, removing the identity charms from her.
the hallway that they were in was empty, and the fact that this coincidence had happened seemed to have astronomical odds.
"sicaria! is something wrong?"
she shook her head, quickly working up a story. "are you busy? i'd just like to have tea."
he grinned at her, shaking her hand.
"i can tell you've been in britain. no one from here asks for tea over coffee." he glanced down to his watch. "i suppose i could spare an hour."
and merlin— fate was working in her favor today.
barry gave her information she could have never even begged for. she did not regret taking this opportunity, even if it filled her mind to the brim with so much information that it was about to combust.
"he is the one who introduced me to my fiancé. you've— heard of auror huang."
sicaria was slightly stunned. "oh, i didn't know you were— congratulations, barry."
"cheers, sicaria," he said raising his teacup. "it's only been six months but well, there's a war going on, and with both our jobs— we both know that the chances of both of us surviving are low. after she was captured, we figured that it was something we wanted to do."
there was a twisted sort of irony in barry's explanation. it was odd how he had seemed that everyone, like him, had come to terms with the impending death, but it was not so. sicaria knew that she had problems with anxiety and paranoia, but hearing that someone else knew what she knew, even absentmindedly saying it, let her know that she was not being irrational.
barry said that he or auror huang (or both) were not going to survive this war. he was so okay with death that he was forcing himself to speed up the milestones of life in order to accomplish all that he wanted before he died, something that he viewed as inevitable.
we're all going to die. everyone knows it.
she didn't let the realization show on her face, but a heavy weight settled on top of her, and once again, she was made aware of the heavy shackles on her ankles that would not allow her to run.
she'd bet anything that if she said something about believing she would die, she'd get a response like be more optimistic, sicaria or don't be so grim. we're winning.
but it would be a lie, and now she knew it.
barry and octavia were going to indulge in their happiness before fate forced them away. perhaps sicaria had something to learn from them.
but she understood what he really meant. they knew that neither of them would live long enough to know if they were compatible outside war. they would never know if they could love each other in moments that were not momentary distraction from the constant pain from around them.
for sicaria, tom was not a light at the end of her tunnel. he was more of a match in a dark room. tom riddle was a temporary luminescence, but once he burned out— she would be plunged into the shadows once more, as if he never existed in the first place.
but she'd remember him.
she would always remember him.
she'd know him from the times he burned her. she'd have a story behind every scar he left on her soul.
tom— all of them. adonis, abraxas, adrien, and thomas. she could never forget them. she should make more memories while she still could.
she wanted to leave them before she loved them, but would what would a life be without love?
would surviving through all of this mean anything if she could not feel the one thing every human deserved?
she blinked and was back to the present. it was funny how tom could take over her mind so quickly and make her incapable of focusing on anything else.
"— was after dumbledore got me this job and i owe him my career, truly. octavia speaks to him more often than i do these days, considering i rarely spend time outside of new york, and when i do, i'm only in britain for a few days at a time."
barry had worked with spies before, but he was not one. he didn't know how to lie nor did he know how to conceal small nuances in word choice.
barry seemed to only be acutely aware of the fact he was being used by dumbledore, but didn't seem to care. it was a trait that many had— this blind trust in a leader. perhaps it was the faith in dumbledore that allowed him to be so confident in his, in his opinion, unavoidable death. if he knew he was dying for a noble cause, one that he trusted dumbledore to win, his death would mean something. he seemed to be alright with balancing auror huang's life on that too.
righteousness is a cult. it's a disease.
sicaria didn't want to die. further than that, she'd sooner kill herself than let someone she loved die for an 'honorable cause'.
•••
sicaria only had two more stops to make before she could run back to the department of magical transportation in order to get back to hogwarts before macusa closed for the evening. she needed to make this quick, but as she felt the rage take over her, internal conflict floated through her mind.
"carter."
the grimy, molerat of a man whirled around, pupils blown, and grinned deliriously at sicaria. her anger began to boil over. "ah, edwards! wh-"
she cast a wandless locking and silencing charm behind her back. "i don't appreciate you lying to get me to buy more coke, and then selling me laced drugs."
he cocked his head to the side. "no idea what you're talking about, kid."
"kid now, is it? was i not a kid when you first sold to me?" she had been running low on drugs since she returned to hogwarts, and she found herself doing it many more times than she usually did. while she had only been high maybe twice in december, that number had skyrocketed now that it was nearing the end of january.
"look, edwards. business is business. take what i give you and run along."
she practically laughed. "business. is that what you call this? you aren't a businessman, carter, you work for a businessman. you run drugs for a businessman. you're nobody and you're replaceable, just like johnny was."
he scowled at her. though he was clearly high off his ass, it didn't stop him from being just as disgusting as he always was.
"have anything that isn't laced?" she asked before he could slur together a response.
his voice was growly, like he was trying to make himself more intimidating. she laughed in his face. "none of it is laced, ditz."
i've killed people, for merlin's sake. what's breaking one more law?
she slid into his mind, seeing the lie dance in front of his eyes.
she snorted as she glanced through his memory.
apparently the "company" for which he dealt for was now in possession of some very powerful customers. lawyers, police commissioners, and politicians, who would have this entire operation locked up if even one person thought they were being wronged. carter couldn't afford to deal them anything even slightly impure, so sicaria got stuck with all the bullshit leftover.
if the district attorney overdosed in his office, the feds would have this place shut down in a matter of seconds.
she frowned. apparently there was no reward for being a loyal customer.
luckily for sicaria, she didn't much care what happened to the organization. good, she thought. if this shit gets shut down, it'll be hard to find a new dealer.
"where is it?"
"where is what?"
his words didn't matter; she saw in his mind what she needed to see.
she quickly immobilized him before searching through the room for the opening in the wall where the purer drugs were kept. there were bricks and bricks of cocaine stacked in the walls, as well as several safes, cash, and firearms.
she pulled one from the wall before casting deprehendere atomus over it, seeing only the elements she was supposed to see.
"—took too much... fucking hallucinating—" she could faintly hear carter struggling against the immobilization charm, not understanding why it was he couldn't move.
once she found what she was looking for, she separated a not insignificant amount into a smaller bag and placed it inside the inner pocket of her robes. feeling relieved but still significantly angry, she crouched down to carters face and forced his head backward, making him look into her eyes.
he was still mumbling incoherently, but she knew he could understand her.
"if there is a hell, i am certain you'll be in the lowest level, carter," she whispered. "if you sell to another 'kid' again, i'll kill tommy and i'll kill you. you ever sell me anything laced again, i'll burn this building to ashes."
she pointed her wand at his head. "obliviate."
he'd forget the magic, but he'd remember the fear.
she hit him with a sleeping spell before apparating straight out of the room and into the athenaeum that she had visited with tom.
she stumbled as she landed slightly too close to one of the bookshelves.
he's everywhere. he's inhabited every part of my life.
"madam teresia?"
"merlin, niña," the older woman said, clutching at her chest and waving her want to gather the books she had dropped in shock. sicaria reflexively had hit them with another stabilizing spell, freezing them in midair before they could hit the ground. "i could have killed you, don't sneak up on me like that!"
sicaria rolled her eyes. "fine, i'm sorry."
"sicaria? i didn't think you'd be back this soon."
"i'm not, i'm not really even supposed to be here, but i have-" she glanced at her watch. "-forty minutes until the department of transportation closes. but i needed to speak with you."
"is it..." she gestured in the air. "important."
"yes. i wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. i'd also appreciate if you kept this between us."
her tone hushed as she grabbed sicaria's arm and pulled her toward the back office. a flicker of excitement flitted between her eyes, and sicaria remembered that as much as teresia claimed to hate her former profession, she missed the excitement that came with it. "what is it?"
"tell me everything you know about albus dumbledore."
the light in her eyes brightened, but it was accompanied with a look of pity. "oh you've really gotten yourself mixed up, haven't you?"
teresia walked quickly around the shelves toward a door that only appeared when she pressed a hand to the wall. she tapped her wand to it twice and it swung open with a creak, dust collecting in a cloud as it opened. "i can't tell you anything that you probably don't already know. we've never worked together directly, but i've heard stories— everyone has."
sicaria hummed, though disappointed.
she peered into the room as the dust settled, eyes watering from the stuffiness of the room. teresia gestured inside. the room was narrow but long and tall. it had two shelves that ran seemingly unendingly forward. the paper was yellowed and there was a slight hum as she heard the movement of the old spells used to create moving photographs still in effect. camera spell technology had advanced since whenever these pictures had been taken. "every tribune since 1900 is stored in here. the new ones are magically added. haven't opened this since the 20's, i think. have a look."
sicaria's disappointment grew.
"i don't have enough time today to go through all of this." even with a filtering charm, this would take days to sort through. perhaps it was a good thing, considering the fact that she didn't know if her mind had the capacity to handle any more information tonight.
"it's alright," teresia mumbled, staring at the back of sicaria's head. "come back when you get a break from vacation. get some rest today though. you seem tired, sicaria."
the younger witch turned around, muting her expression and stepping out of the room and back into the brightness of the rest of the library. the door disappeared behind her, and as she felt like she could breathe again, she scourgified herself before preparing to apparate back to the department of magical transportation.
"and sicaria," teresia said gravely, nails digging harshly into sicaria's forearm. "if you've gotten yourself mixed up in problems with grindelwald, then i pity you to the highest extent. keep yourself safe, first and foremost. everything and everyone else must come second, mija."
write to me.
but sicaria knew she wouldn't.
dumbledore was not in his office when sicaria returned, which somewhat surprised sicaria. perhaps it was just meant to be a gesture of goodwill— saying that he 'trusted' her enough not to go through his things while he was not present. after all she had learned of him tonight, she felt like going through his things would overwhelm her.
besides, what kind of 'great wizard' would dumbledore be if he did not have wards in his office? why would he leave important documents or incriminating evidence in the same room as a rogue, unsupervised spy?
the phoenix flew toward her, dropping a piece of parchment (slightly singed) into her hand.
sicaria,
i have been called away to london for urgent business at the ministry of magic. i apologize that i will not be there to greet you upon your return to the castle.
if there is anything urgent you wish to tell me, simply write it on the back of this parchment and hand it to fawkes— he will know what to do.
if not, then goodnight, miss edwards. i shall return no later than wednesday.
albus
she twirled the parchment in her fingers and let her gaze sweep over the room, which was empty except for her and the bird, which seemed to be watching her curiously.
finally deciding, she sighed and put the parchment into her pocket before crossing the room and pushing the door open. the phoenix squawked at her as she closed the door behind her on her way to the slytherin common room.
tom was not surprised when sicaria entered the common room at two in the morning, well after everyone else had gone to bed. he had felt the moment she left the campus through the ring, which was equipped with several charms that let him monitor few general aspects of her wellbeing. he would wait for her to come back each time, if not only to ensure she would come back. truthfully, he had no idea what she did when she left campus, only that it was something for macusa. tom remembered the night (was it october or november?) that she once came back in the middle of the night and passed out on the floor.
he'd wait every time now. he wouldn't let her body touch the ground.
tom and a sleeping nott were the only people in the common room when she returned. he looked up from the wandless magic book she gifted him when the door creaked open. her eyes found him instantly.
he stared at her.
he stared through her.
he knew where she had been.
he didn't move, but his eyes were on her. he stayed true to his word. he would not seek her out nor would he continue to pursue her.
but she couldn't stop him from watching her— from helping her.
she froze dead in her tracks. what to do, what to do? her eyes grazed over him, ensuring that they did not meet.
she parted her lips, words on the tip of her tongue, and then-
nothing.
she shut her mouth and turned back, letting only one whispered word fall from her lips. "goodnight."
she was gone before he could respond. he was not deterred. she was getting closer and closer every day. he had learned his lesson from his time at her home.
be patient.
and so he did.
she felt his eyes follow her until she was out of his line of sight.
"soon," he said to himself, staring at her handwriting in the margins of his book. "soon."