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SIYE Time:5:36 on 29th March 2024
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Hollow Ash
By FloreatCastellum

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Category: Post-Hogwarts
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Other
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 131
Summary: When a mysterious woman comes to the Auror office claiming to be the victim of a terrible crime, Theia and Harry want to do everything they can to help her. The problem is, she has no memory of what has happened. As they piece together the sinister events, their own troubles and traumas rise to the surface, causing them to question who they really are. Sequel to The Aurors.
Hitcount: Story Total: 41495; Chapter Total: 2285
Awards: View Trophy Room






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Ginny came with a stack of puzzle books and a tin of her mother’s homemade shortbread biscuits. She had tried to make lemon drizzle cake herself, but it turned out somehow both weirdly wet and dry at the same time, and completely collapsed in the middle, so she had just grabbed the first appropriate thing she had seen in the larder.

‘Morning,’ she said briskly as she entered. The woman in the bed by the window looked up, a bemused yet vacant expression on her face. ‘You must be Marcy. I’ve been bored stiff at home so I thought I’d come and visit you. I believe you know my husband, Harry.’

‘The man with the glasses?’

‘That’s one.’

‘He’s famous, isn’t he?’

Ginny gave the woman a thoughtful smile, and placed the tin of biscuits on Marcy’s bedside table. ‘He is, rather. Do you know what for?’

‘He was meant to die, but he didn’t,’ said Marcy. ‘I find him a bit scary.’

‘No need to find him scary,’ said Ginny brightly, perching on the end of the bed. ‘He’s a big softie really. Do you know, he brings me pastries in bed at the weekends. Gets up early to get them for me and everything.’

Marcy didn’t look convinced. Her expression was downturned and grumpy, and she reached for the biscuit tin without asking Ginny.

‘My name is Ginny,’ Ginny prompted, but still Marcy paid her little attention. ‘You know our friend Theia, too, don’t you?’

‘The girl that was with him?’ Marcy asked, seeming to brighten up. ‘Yes, I liked her.’

Ginny smiled at her. ‘The pair of them have gone to the Loney to see your house. They might talk to your neighbours too.’

Marcy crunched on a biscuit and barely glanced at Ginny. ‘Why?’

‘Well, they want to find out where you live and if anyone is around to look after you. They’d like you to be able to go home, but they want to make sure that nothing bad happened to you.’

‘Something bad did happen to me,’ said Marcy indignantly.

‘Yes, that’s why they’re going to talk to your neighbours. To see if they can find out what happened, to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

‘Well I don’t want that man doing it,’ said Marcy abruptly. ‘He’s supposed to be dead.’

‘Why do you say that, Marcy?’

‘It’s not natural, is it? Against Mother Nature. Creepy.’

‘So you don’t want him talking to your neighbours?’

Marcy looked confused. ‘Neighbours?’

Ginny tried to explain again, but Marcy reached for the puzzle books, and opened one onto a crossword. She seemed to squint and blink at it several times, gingerly rubbing her right eye.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Can’t see out this eye,’ said Marcy sadly. ‘It goes all blurry and I get all sorts of floaty bits.’

‘Do you wear glasses?’

‘No, haven’t had it for long, duck. Don’t think they’d help anyway.’

She focused on her crossword, so didn’t see the look of concern on Ginny’s face. ‘Would you like to go home, Marcy?’ Ginny asked kindly. ‘Would you feel safe going home, if there was someone there to look after you?’

‘Well I will have to,’ said Marcy casually. ‘They need me at home.’

‘Who does? What for?’

‘To stay alive,’ said Marcy.

‘Are you talking about your baby?’

‘Oh, no,’ said Marcy, and Ginny thought she sounded almost amused. She looked at Ginny, more carefully than she had before.

‘You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’ she asked.

Ginny nodded and patted her stomach. ‘That’s right. A few more months to go though.’

‘Be very careful,’ warned Marcy. ‘You might love it more than you realise.’

‘I hope I do love it,’ said Ginny, and nervous, confused laughter blurred her words.

Marcy looked oddly dubious. ‘You say that now.’ She glanced down. ‘Pent up I become bungling. Inept.’

‘Sorry?’

Marcy tapped her crossword. ‘Seven across. Inept.’

‘Right,’ said Ginny, disconcerted. ‘Yes. Very clever.’ She did not get any further conversation out of Marcy that wasn’t to do with the crossword.

…………….

Nothing happened when Harry knocked. They stared at the chipped paint for nearly a minute, occasionally craning their necks to try and peer through the windows, but they were misted over.

‘Maybe no one’s in,’ said Theia.

‘There’s smoke from the chimney,’ said Harry, jerking his head to the roof. The strong wind was whisking the smoke away quickly, but it was still there, leaving the faint scent of coal. He frowned, and in his pocket he rolled his wand through his fingers as the temptation to simply break in rose.

‘What’re you doing?’ came a gruff voice.

They turned to see a tall brute of a man, with a scratchy grey beard and broad shoulders. One large, hairy-knuckled hand rested on a roughly hewn walking stick, but what disconcerted Harry the most was that it was hard to tell if he was a wizard or a Muggle. His long, grubby brown leather coat could easily be the outfit of a weather hardened farmer as much as it could be over robes.

‘Good morning,’ said Harry cheerfully. ‘This is my colleague Theia Higglesworth and I’m-’

‘I know who you are,’ said the man abruptly. ‘Everyone knows who you are, Potter.’

‘Ah, so you are a wizard then, Mr…?’

‘Osman. What are you doing here?’

‘Were you watching us, Mr Osman?’ challenged Theia. ‘Earlier, when we were in the house further up the hill?’

He stared at her, and Harry couldn’t read his hard expression. His grimace seemed almost hateful, but the furrow of his eyebrows seemed to betray a confusion. Osman looked away from Theia, now glaring at Harry.

‘What are you doing here?’ he repeated.

‘We were hoping to talk to the Swindlehurst family about their neighbour, Marcia Staindrop. Do you know her?’ asked Harry.

‘Marcy, aye.’

‘She’s currently in St Mungos and we’re trying to find out more about her. Would you mind-?’

‘Don’t know her that well,’ Osman said brusquely. ‘You’ll want to stay away from the Swindlehursts. And Marcy. The whole lot of ‘em.’

‘Why’s that, Mr Osman?’

Osman didn’t answer. He simply shook his head and grumbled something under his breath, turning on his heel and limping away. Harry watched him go.

‘Mr Osman!’ Theia called. ‘Mr Osman!’

‘Let him go,’ Harry said in a low voice. ‘We’ll talk to him later.’ He had recognised the glint of fear in Mr Osman’s eye, and thought that he might be more open somewhere he felt safer.

‘People are usually a bit more excited to meet you,’ replied Theia. ‘The ones with nothing to hide, anyway.’

Mr Osman’s flatcap disappeared over the arc of the hill, and Harry turned back to the door, thumping it with a little more force.

‘Someone is moving in there, I think,’ said Theia, squinting at the misted window. ‘A woman.’

For a reason he couldn’t explain, Harry was surprised that it wasn’t Bathilda Bagshot that opened the door. He had no idea why the reanimated corpse of the little old lady had entered his mind, nor could he explain why his heart thudded as he remembered Nagini’s muscles squeezing the breath out of him, but he kept his face still and calm as the door opened to reveal a perfectly ordinary looking woman.

‘Mrs Swindlehurst?’

‘Yes?’ she answered. Her dark blonde hair was in an unbrushed bob that reached just past her chin, and though her face was wide and friendly, it was weather beaten and wrinkled. ‘Has something happened to Marcy?’

‘May we come in?’ Harry asked gently. ‘We’re from the Auror department.’

‘Youse Harry Potter, ‘ent you? I recognise you from t’paper,’ she said as she led them to a living room. It was cosy, but dark. The fireplace glowed with orange embers, the smell of the coal seemed to have seeped into the very walls, and the stone floor was covered in proggy mats in various states of wear. A small jack russell jumped down from the squashy sofa, yapping incessantly. ‘Ignore ‘im,’ Mrs Swindlehurst said, sitting heavily in the armchair and snapping her fingers at the dog. As it obediently ran and sat at her feet, Harry noticed the forked tail.

Theia introduced herself, and explained Marcy’s unusual appearance and story. Mrs Swindlehurst listened silently, her grey eyes fixed on Theia, stern and unreadable, but apparently relaxed in her armchair. While Theia spoke, Harry thought that underneath the coal dust he could smell sweet peas.

‘Aye, I’ve been worried about ‘er,’ she said finally. ‘I see ‘er most days, and she’s been gone mebbe a week now.’

‘You didn’t want to report her missing?’ asked Harry.

‘She’s a big girl,’ said Mrs Swindlehurst casually. ‘An’ anyway, I thought she mebbe wasn’t talking to me.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Oh, she’s always falling out with us for some reason or t’other. I don’t mind, she comes back eventually. She’s had a tough life, our Marcy.’

‘You’ve known her…?’

‘All ‘er life, yeah. Looked after ‘er when ‘er parents died, and a bit before that to be honest with you. They never did care for ‘er much.’

‘Is that because she’s a squib?’

‘Yeah. And a bit dim at that, bless ‘er. Clingy and immature, but I s’pose that’s no wonder. It’s only us that have shown ‘er any kindness. So she can’t remember anything at all?’ She reached into the pocket of her robes, and pulled out a clay pipe. It seemed to light as soon as it touched her lips.

‘She seems very confused,’ said Harry. ‘Mrs Swindlehurst-’

‘Call me Pauline, duck.’

‘Pauline… Does Marcy have a baby? The Healers believe she may have given birth recently.’

Pauline’s face fell, and she tapped the end of her pipe on her lip. ‘Oh, poor love. I wonder if that’s what’s done it… She wouldn’t even tell us who the father was, and then when it was born it weren’t breathing…’

‘We have no record of a midwitch visiting,’ said Theia. ‘Surely she didn’t give birth alone?’

Pauline shook her head, blowing a steady stream of smoke out of the corner of her mouth. ‘Been trying to get ‘er more settled into the Muggle world, you know, for after I’m gone. She went t’hospital in Lancaster. Some of us went wiv ‘er, but yeah… Poor soul din’t make it.’ She puffed on the pipe again.

There was a brief pause. ‘Sorry,’ said Harry slowly. ‘Who is we? You talk about Marcy as though she’s a child.’

‘Might as well be,’ mumbled Pauline through her pipe. ‘Most of t’Loney’s my family, you know. Our Ella and her bairns are over the road, Mam’s upstairs. Uncle Oeric is just down t’way, and ‘til a few year ago me Dad was knocking about too. We all took care of Marcy.’

‘There’s not many houses here,’ Theia remarked. ‘Are you all related?’

‘In some way or t’other, I suppose,’ Pauline shrugged. ‘We mingle with the muggles in t’village from time to time, not that they like us. I thought that’s where our Marcy musta gone.’ She tapped her pipe on the arm of her chair, and cloud of ash dropped onto the rug. ‘Course, there’s also old Osman.’

‘Yes, we just met him,’ said Harry. ‘He wasn’t very friendly.’

‘Odd bloke,’ said Pauline brusquely. ‘But I likes him well enough.’

‘Funny,’ said Harry slyly. ‘He didn’t seem to like you.’

Pauline gave a snort that turned into a chuckle. ‘Old codger.’

‘Did Marcy have any friends round here?’ asked Harry.

‘Not that I know of. She’s a nervous girl.’

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Theia raise an eyebrow and jot something down. If Pauline had noticed, she didn’t care.

The stairs creaked, and an ancient looking woman was hobbling slowly down them, hunched over with trembling hands against the wall for support.

‘All reet mam?’ Pauline called loudly.

The old woman mumbled something about the laundry, and headed to the back door. Pauline called after her, but soon shook her head and rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll fetch her in a moment, she won’t listen. Mostly deaf, cataracts, the whole lot, but she still thinks she has to do everything.’

Theia gave a small smile. ‘My gran was always like that. Did she look after Marcy too?’

‘Oh, yeah, Marcy knows her as nan. It was me and her what persuaded her folks to let us look after her.’

‘You mean before they died?’ said Harry, surprised.

‘Yeah, I told you. They didn’t much care for her, being a squib an’ all.’

‘That must have been awful for her.’

Pauline made a noise that sounded like agreement, and tilted her head. ‘Better for everyone in the long run.’

Harry wasn’t sure. He found it deeply unsettling, and he felt an urge to shout. ‘We’ll be talking to everyone in the Loney,’ he said. ‘Including your daughter.’

‘Why?’ she said sharply. ‘You’ve found her, can’t you just send her home so we can look after her?’

‘We just need to make sure she’s safe,’ he said placatingly. ‘I’m sure you can understand.’ His eyes flicked down to Pauline’s dog. ‘I assume you have a licence for that crup?’

She stiffened. ‘No need, he never sees Muggles.’

He winked at her. ‘We didn’t see him then. I’ll probably be back over the next few days, is that all right? The quicker we make the welfare checks, the quicker Marcy can come home.’

‘It’s usually Healers that do stuff like that, int it?’ Pauline said, looking puzzled.

‘What can I say?’ said Harry, rising from his seat. ‘I’ve run out of dark wizards. Lovely meeting you, Pauline.’

***

‘She didn’t seem that concerned about her, did she?’ he said to Theia as soon as they were out of earshot of the cottage.

‘I thought that too,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You’d think she would treat her like a daughter, but she didn’t seem bothered at all.’

‘Well, let’s meet the actual daughter,’ said Harry, pointing to the next cottage. It was on the other side of the dirt road, just slightly further down the valley. ‘The notes Susan gave me say that they’re a similar age, so perhaps they were close.’

The woman who answered the door gave a wicked grin as soon as her eyes rested on Harry. ‘I know who you are,’ she said, her voice low and sultry. She was a unique looking woman, Harry thought. Not necessarily in a bad way, but certainly distinctive. Perhaps even beautiful. Across her nose and cheeks was a thick band of brown freckles, a few shades darker than the wild curls that reached her elbows. Though slender, on her large hips she had perched a toddler, one arm slung around him comfortably.

‘You must be Ornella,’ said Harry politely. ‘Mrs Swindlehurst’s daughter.’

‘Ella is fine,’ she said. Her eyes flicked to Theia, who introduced herself quickly. ‘Charmed,’ Ornella said, ignoring the toddler babbling lightly. ‘Come in, please.’

The followed her in, and she set the toddler into a high chair at a sturdy looking wooden table. ‘You look just like your father,’ she said to Harry, as she strapped the little boy in.

‘You knew him?’

She threw him another wicked grin. ‘Knew him? I was his first girlfriend. I thought he was bloody gorgeous.’

Immediately uncomfortable, Harry ignored Ornella’s glinting eyes and Theia’s poor attempt at hiding her amused smile, and said, ‘we’re here about Marcy.’

‘Yes, I thought you might be.’ It occurred to Harry that Ornella’s voice had only the twinge of the Lancashire accent that he had heard from everyone else in the Loney. ‘I haven’t seen her in a while and Mum did say she was getting worried. She’s all right, I hope?’

‘She seems to have lost her memory, and we think she may have experienced some kind of trauma.’

‘Well of course she has,’ said Ornella casually. ‘That poor girl hasn’t had it easy. Where did you find her?’

‘She came to us,’ said Theia.

Ornella shrugged in mild surprise. ‘Well at least she got somewhere safe.’ She turned away, fetching a small bowl of baby food from the kitchen counter. Like the other houses in the Loney, the cottage was small and dark

Harry gestured his head to the toddler.

‘Who’s this?’ he asked.

‘This is Raffi,’ Ornella said, brushing a hand over his brown curls.

‘Is it just the two of you?’

‘Oh, no, there’s Aesclin too, but he’s just a few months old, he doesn’t come into it.’

Harry and Theia exchanged glances. ‘Do you mind if we see him?’ Theia asked.

Though Ornella kept smiling, a slight frown creased her eyebrows. ‘Well, he’s asleep, and I’d like to keep it that way for now. You’re always welcome to come back, though,’ she said, eyeing Harry.

Harry ignored her again. ‘It’s a personal question, but do you mind if I ask you who the father is? If it’s just the three of you here.’

Ornella didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. ‘A Muggle lad I see now and then who lives in the proper village. I’ll give you his address if you want, but he doesn’t really know about any of this. Best to keep it all separate.’

‘He doesn’t know about his own children?’ Theia asked, her quill pausing over her notebook.

Ornella smiled again. ‘He knows they exist, but not about magic and all of that. We have an understanding. I know it’s unconventional, but so is everything else around here.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘We keep to ourselves,’ she said. ‘Have done for a long time. It was hard enough to persuade Mam to let me go to Hogwarts.’

‘Why’s that?’ asked Harry.

She extended one finger and beckoned him. Again, Harry felt highly uncomfortable with the way she was smiling at him, but as she turned her head to look out of the window over the kitchen sink, he carefully approached.

The view was spectacular. The dark purple fells undulating, with a sliver of a silver stream snaking through the valley, occasionally broken up by large rocky crags and the occasional tree.

‘You see over there?’ she said, pointing to a cluster of rocks on the hill opposite. ‘That used to be the Loney too. It was always a bit isolated anyway, but then some Death Eaters attacked. Way back. Right at the start of it all. Burnt most of the houses down, and most of the survivors were picked off by the dragon pox epidemic. You won’t remember it, you’re too young or maybe even not born. But anyway, it wasn’t easy but our family survived. And we survived everything else that came later, by keeping our heads down. It was better that everyone forgot we existed than risk that sort of loss again.’ She moved away from the window to check that her son was eating his food. ‘I mean, Merlin,’ she said, laughing slightly. ‘We had a squib here and even in ‘97 no one bothered us. Even you had to go on the run, didn’t you?’

‘I did,’ Harry admitted. ‘It’s remarkable you all made it through. Marcy had a death certificate. How did that happen?’

‘Uncle Oeric arranged it, I was just a kid so I don’t know the details,’ she said casually. ‘Thought it was for the best, and he was right, wasn’t he? She probably would have died if it weren’t for us.’

‘You must have been close, growing up,’ said Theia.

Ornella scrunched her nose. ‘I wouldn’t say we were best friends. I got to go to Hogwarts. I was the one with the family, she was just an orphan. No offense,’ she added quickly.

Harry chose to ignore it. ‘What about now? As adults?’

‘Oh, yes, Marcy’s a lifesaver,’ she replied, with a large smile. ‘I don’t know what we would do without her.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s like she’s part of the family, isn’t it?’

Harry smiled. ‘Almost.’

***

‘It’s just such a depressing landscape,’ said Theia, looking back at the desolate Loney. ‘I have no idea why anyone would choose to live here.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Harry. ‘It’s quite a striking place. Remote and quiet.’

‘You mean boring and cold,’ she replied, and Harry smiled. He supposed that Theia, who had always lived in London, would never understand the appeal of isolation and silence, clear skies and cold winds.

‘Even more than the place, I don’t understand why Marcy would never leave,’ said Theia. ‘Before her parents died, sure, but then there’s nothing for her here.’

‘There was the Swindlehursts,’ said Harry. ‘Sounds like she sees them as family, even if they’re a bit… Uncaring.’

‘It just doesn’t seem like a very warm or loving place,’ she said. ‘All of them seem a bit tough. And who did she have the baby with? Who’s this mystery Mr A? Not exactly the place for grand romantic gestures.’

‘There doesn’t have to be grand dramatic gestures for her to feel love,’ said Harry, and he considered for a moment. ‘I suppose the family doesn’t have to be that outwardly warm either. They just have to be there, and they just have to help her feel safe, which can’t be easy as a squib. That can be hard to leave, even if it doesn’t make sense.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If she had consistency… Quiet little moments that made her feel secure… After being neglected by her parents why would she ever leave? She would keep hold of that forever.’

Theia looked bewildered. ‘Because she’s an adult. And there’s a whole world out there, even if she is a squib. She hadn’t really seen the muggle or the wizarding world. If it were me living here, I’d go off and find a happier life somewhere else.’

‘Perhaps she was scared,’ Harry suggested. ‘You said it yourself — she hasn’t seen the muggle or wizarding world. Only the Loney. I want to interview everyone here before we let her come back.’

‘There’s something weird about this place,’ Theia said firmly. ‘About all of them.’

Among the sweeping moors and scattering of stars that had emerged above them, he couldn’t help but agree with Theia’s feelings about the Loney.

***

When he got home, Ginny had already gone to bed. The mattress sank as he lay beside her, and she shifted, rolling her head with a sigh to rest heavily on his shoulder, one arm curling protectively around her stomach. ‘All right?’ she murmured sleepily.

He kissed her on her temple. ‘Did you go to visit Marcy?’

She made a noise that sounded like a yes. ‘Sweet woman… A bit odd. Said something weird about babies.’

‘What?’

But Ginny just yawned and fell back into sleep.

In the morning, he rose first and went down to the village to fetch croissants, pain au chocolat, and cinnamon swirls. He brought them to her on a tray, with a glass of orange juice, climbing the creaky stairs to find her huddled under the covers and smiling sleepily at him. The curtains were drawn, but a slight gap threw a stave of light across the wall. This was what he had been trying to tell Theia, he thought as a talk show on the wireless murmured gently. These quiet moments that were unremarkable and yet more important than anything else. Thoughts of Marcy and the Loney and ash trees were far from his mind as they playfully deliberated on baby names once again. He had never felt more vulnerable or more at peace.

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