Don't Think I Can Fight This Anymore

Dear Charlie,

I was called in to help work on the attack in New York. As far as anyone can tell, no witches or wizards of any creed are involved. This is completely a muggle issue. It’s best if we’re not involved at all.

Your mother misses you. I do, too. You should come visit soon. I think if your mother saw all of her children in one piece she’ll calm down a little, even if we have nothing to do with this new war.

Yours,
Evelyn

~*~

When Harry and Evelyn got to the burrow, Molly immediately threw open the door. Her hair was flat on one side, like she had been sleeping on her arms.

“Oh, thank Merlin!” She cried, throwing her arms around Harry, the seventh son. “I couldn’t sleep. What is it? Arthur told us what happened but - “

“It’s not like that.” Harry reassured. “We have nothing to do with it this time. International Relations and Arthur might have a little to do but...it’s not our fight.”

She muffled a sob in his shoulder and hugged him tightly. After a moment, she released him.

“Ginny’s asleep on the sofa.” she said. “She tried to wait up for you but she was at practice all day.”

Harry slipped past her and Molly turned to Evelyn and hugged her tightly.

“It’s alright, Molly.” Evelyn said, patting her on the back. “Everyone’s going to be okay.”

Molly pulled away. “I’ve got a bed made up for you in Charlie’s room. I didn’t know what Sherlock would need - “

“Molly, thank you, but we’ll just go home - “

“Don’t be ridiculous! You should stay here! It’s not a time to be alone!”

Evelyn thought that maybe Molly was being a little ridiculous. But she gave in and let Molly pull her into the kitchen, Sherlock trotting along at their heals.

“Does Sherlock need anything?” Molly asked again.

“Really, Molly.” Evelyn smiled. “Sherlock and I have slept in litteral gutters. A bit of carpet is a palace to him.”

“Well I put a bowl of water out for him. I know he usually eats with you so I figured he’d be alright until breakfast. Sleep as long as you need to.”

“I have to open the shop tomorrow.”

“George said everything is closed tomorrow. A day of mourning.”

They had reached Charlie’s old room. Evelyn said goodnight and watched Molly retreat into her own room, and then led Sherlock in.

The chocolate lab sniffed around the room, wagging his tail as he smelled his friend Charlie. Evelyn kicked off her shoes and fell onto the bed, pulling a quilt over herself. In spite of her outward lack of exhaustion, she was asleep in minutes. She didn’t even feel Sherlock jump onto the bed and curl up next to her.

~*~

Evelyn woke up to Sherlock whimpering and nudging her hand. She groaned and sat up, looking at her watch. It was nine, she had gotten four hours of sleep. Sherlock whimpered again and pushed his head into her chest.

“Okay, okay.” Evelyn muttered, swinging her legs out of bed.

As they left the room, Sherlock barreling down the narrow stairs, she flicked her wand at the bed. The sheets and quilt snapped themselves as tight as a drum with perfectly boxed corners, and the pillows centered themselves with ten centimeters of space on either side.

Evelyn immediately let Sherlock out into the garden, then poured herself a mug of coffee and took a piece of toast. No one else was in the kitchen, but obviously people were awake. Evelyn sat on the back step among the piles of Wellington boots and half watched Sherlock.

Sylvia found her munching on toast and sat on the step with her. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Evelyn turned to look at her. “You’re still here?”

“Well, Molly insisted that we stay last night, and we didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. She’s still asleep.”

“Who else is here?”

“Harry, Ginny, Ron. Arthur and Percy went to work. Hermione’s here. She wanted to talk to you and Harry before she went in. Bill visited yesterday, to calm Molly down, but he’s at home with Fleur now. She’s having really bad morning sickness.”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant again.”

Sylvia hummed and nodded, twisting white hair around her finger. Evelyn sighed and pointed her wand at something Sherlock left behind.

“Scourgify. That’s good. Molly will be happy to have more kids around.”

Sherlock trotted over and licked Sylvia’s face in greeting. She scrunched her nose but smiled and rubbed his ears. “Who’s a good dog?” she asked. “Who’s a good doggie?”

Sherlock smiled as if to say, “I know this one! Me!”

Evelyn offered Sherlock the remainder of her toast, and stood. “Inside?” she asked the dog. “We done? Inside?”

Sherlock happily bounded into the crooked house, nails clacking on the stone floor. He lapped up some of the water Molly had left out for him, then followed Sylvia and Evelyn into the sitting room. Evelyn sat between Harry and Ron on the couch, sipping her coffee. Sherlock sat next to Hermione, cautiously watching Crookshanks in her lap. The cat hissed.

“You brought Crookshanks?” Evelyn asked.

Hermione sighed and nodded. “We weren’t sure how long Molly would keep us.”

“Where’s Ginny?” Ron asked.

“Hold on, I can handle this.” George said. Then he bellowed, “HIS EYES ARE AS GREEN AS A PICKLED TOAD!”

“WHO’S SINGING THAT?” Ginny screeched, tearing into the room, brandishing her wand.

“There she is.” George smiled, shaking his head like he had lost his wallet and found it exactly where he left it.

Evelyn and Ron roared with laughter at Harry’s beet red face. Ginny hexed her brother, making tiny tentacles grow all over his face. Sylvia quickly righted the problem, but smiled appreciatively at Ginny.

The laughter quieted down, and they all sat in silence.

“I can’t believe something so awful could happen.” Hermione finally said quietly. She gestured to the Prophet lying unfolded on the table. “There’s no total death count yet.”

“How could there be?” Harry asked. “There’s so many people who were in the area, most of them could just be missing in the panic. There’s people buried in the rubble that they’re trying to search for. Then there’s the fact that some people were vaporized the second the planes hit the towers.”

Ron swallowed heavily. “I read that some people trapped in the buildings were jumping, rather than burn - “

“Please, don’t.” Sylvia begged. “It’s just so awful.”

Next to her on the loveseat, George put an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. Silence took them all again. Ginny was standing at the window, looking out over the garden. When she turned around, her face was hard.

“And we’re sure,” she said, speaking mainly to Harry, “we’re absolutely sure that muggles did this? No witches or wizards or anyone?”

“We’re positive.”

“Are they going to make you go to America?”

Evelyn’s head snapped up. “No. We aren’t involved.”

“Something like this - “ George started.

“Don’t you get it?” She asked, angrily balling her hands. “It’s a muggle problem. We have to stay out of it.”

“We could at least help with the rescue efforts.” Sylvia argued.

“And then we could at least assign a few aurors. And then we could at least just fight their whole war for them. It would never end. We’d be exposing ourselves, and sending our children off to die. Again.”

Hermione bit her lip. “She’s right. There’s nothing we can do.”

Crookshanks jumped off Hermione’s lap and attacked Sherlock. Sherlock growled and threw the cat off him.

“Sherlock, no.” Evelyn said sharply. “Come here.”

Hermione reached down and grabbed the angry cat as the dog trotted to his mistress’ side and sat.

“What are you doing, huh?” Evelyn muttered to the lab, rubbing his ears. “You know better than that.”

Molly came into the room. “Oh, good, you’re all still here. Thank you for making the bed, Evelyn.”

“It’s no problem, Molly.”

“Are you all staying for dinner?”

Evelyn stood before anyone else. “No, Molly. I need to talk to Ian.”

“Oh, well - “

“I should go to the office.” Hermione sighed, standing. “Ron, you’re staying here?”

“Yeah.” He looked to George. “We’re not going in, are we?”

George shook his head. “Not much of a point.”

Hermione leaned over and kissed her fiance. “I’ll see you tonight. I may stay late.”

Sylvia stood as well. “Do you need any help with anything Molly? Here, let me take that laundry for you.”

Hermione and Evelyn walked out the back door.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help.” Evelyn said bitterly.

Hermione sighed and reassuringly rubbed her back. “I know.”

~*~

Evelyn zipped down the streets, much faster than she needed to. The streets were quiet, the day of mourning in effect in the muggle world.

Evelyn would have stayed at home too, but she had to find them. So after Molly’s and checking in with Ian, she dropped Sherlock at home and picked up the bike from the corner store.

Where were they? Why would they abandon her now? They were so good at showing up when they were least wanted. And Vikram hadn’t heard anything in months.

Finally, Evelyn parked and rested her arms and head on the handlebars, letting the helmet clunk. If she went into the tunnels and other secret places, she’d put the entire homeless community in danger. A green poncho isn’t worth that.

A kid on a bicycle passed her, shouting something. Evelyn sighed and looked up at the street after him.

She wouldn’t get anywhere doing this. She’d have to wait until they came to her.

~*~

“He was in my grasp.”

Evelyn looked out the window over the Thames. London was so grey in October. In the month since the terror attacks in New York City, she had gotten less and less sleep. She spent more time training at the gym, more time at work exhausting herself. But she still had nightmares.

“He was right there, Sarge. I had him tied up.” A deep breath. “But somehow he got free and he...he snuck up on me from behind. Hit me over the head with a dictionary. Took my wand - I had already broken his.”

“How did you get him in the first place?”

“He was in my house. Sarah was home in Thailand, luckily. He was sitting there waiting for me.”

“And you overpowered him?”

“Yes. I knew something was wrong the minute I walked in.”

Evelyn finally turned around and looked at Trip.

“I’m so sorry Evelyn.” he said. “I let him go.”

She shook her head. “Shut up, Trip.”

“Really - “

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There was a knock on the conference room door and it opened. A black witch poked her head in. “Forest. High priority letter.”

Ian crossed the room to take the letter. Trip offered Evelyn his pack of cigarettes, and she shook her head. Ian ripped open the letter and scanned it.

“Evelyn, does it help I was knocked out?”

“Shut up.”

“I had a concussion and everything.”

“Trip, if I blamed you, you’d be dead.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

“You can look at him, Evelyn.” Ian said with forced calm in his voice. “It wasn’t his fault.”

Evelyn looked around. “I’m not blaming him.”

“I was wrong about everything.” Ian said hollowly. “You were right, Evelyn. I was so wrong.”

“What?”

Ian crumpled the letter and threw it, then let out a strangled yell and punched the wall. Trip looked alarmed.

“Sarge? You alright?”

“Sorry.” Ian said, rubbing his temples. “Lost my temper.”

Evelyn stooped down and picked up the letter. Then she looked around at Trip.

“I think I’ll have one of those cigarettes now.”