Sins run deep

Isaac David Buchanan. Twenty-Four. Pureblood. Slytherin Alumnus. Graduated in 1976. Hit-Wizard-in-Training. Death Eater Recruit.

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

Mary looked up at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes even though it caused a stab of pain to shoot through her heart and talking about something she had never talked about before made her feel queasy. “I’m glad you don’t remember, too. I wish I didn’t. I think that’s why they never did take the memory from me, even though with some people I know they did to protect their identities but me… They knew with me the memory of it would just keep the torture alive. I don’t know if it’s selfish to not want to remember but… Well, if it is, I’m selfish too so I can hardly blame you.”

The only problem was that there were things Mary definitely wished Isaac did remember. Things she wished he was aware he should miss and the thought of them, made heavier by the presence of the gravestone almost started her crying again but she blinked the tears back as she said, with a bit of desperation. “Isaac— You weren’t a bad person. You need to know— There— Nobody’s perfect but there was good in there. I wish you could at least remember the good. Not just everyone telling you about the bad.”

Isaac locked his eyes with Mary’s. If only doing so could let him peek inside Mary’s consciousness. To see why someone with a choice wouldn’t make the decision for herself. “So why not forget it?” If someone made him forget, why can’t they make Mary? “End the torture, so you say? Just start a new life. It’s still you just without those memories?”

He shifted his eyes away from Rosalind’s gravestone when the conversation returned to him. He couldn’t meet Mary’s eyes either. All these affirmations... He didn’t know what to do with them when he got them from his dad. He sure as hell, doesn’t know what to do with them coming from Rosalind’s friend. “No offense, Mary, but I don’t think you really know... knew me that well. I don’t even know if it’s your place to say. But unfortunately, there’s no remembering the good without the bad. I’d rather have none of it if it’s just the same.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Frank Longbottom​:

That was a side effect he hadn’t considered.  He thought that maybe Isaac would be like Pim, forced to live at the office on desk duty.  But he supposed now that he thought about it, it would be hard to justify bringing back a hit wizard that had apparent ties to Death Eaters that even he couldn’t deny.  “That makes sense.  Maybe it’s an opportunity in disguise then.”

He sighed, standing up, dusting off the fronts of his trousers as he did so.  “I should be getting back to Alice, that’s my wife.  But honestly Isaac.  If there’s anything at all that I can do for you, please, please let me know and I’ll do it.  Even if it’s as simple as a job recommendation.  I’m here if you need anything.”  People just needed someone to believe in them, and he was certain that Isaac Buchanan was no different.

.

Once he found out he was a free man, Isaac had no desire to return back to his old job. How can he after spending that much time in Azkaban? If his jailers used to be his coworkers, then how could ever feel safe in his workplace? How can he trust them to trust him? Even if he magically remembers everything from his training, the mark on his arm alone is probably preventing him from ever working anywhere near the DMLE again. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Those four words carried so much of Isaac’s worries. Worries that Frank will never know.

Isaac, at first, was wary about having this interaction, but now that Frank was getting to leave, he found himself hesitant to end the conversation. The other man was nice, and Isaac never gets a chance to have a normal conversation like this. Still, he wasn’t gonna ask Frank to say. “Of course. You should be with her. It’s Valentine’s. And... I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Isaac already decided that he’ll try his best not to get to that point, but it was still nice to know that somebody offered.

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Aila Johnson​:

“I know you don’t know me, but this is weird for me.”  Was she frustrated, or was she amused?  They felt the same in this moment.  Maybe she was fucking hysterical – it wasn’t exactly a bat shit response to being attacked, was it?  The therapist her mother had made her see as a child would have agreed with her, she was pretty damn sure.  “I get angry at everything.  No pockets?  Misplaced the bottle of ketchup?  Literally anything has me ready to fight, but this…?  I’m weirdly calm.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d have preferred you not have done it, but I’m a firm believer in trusting people who they show you who they are.”

She shrugged.  “It was true.  You said as much.  I know you don’t remember, but you said you didn’t have a choice when I told you that you didn’t have to do it.”  She nodded, knowing as much.  “Well, no one has come at me since then, so maybe they’ve decided I’m not worth the trouble.”  She shook her head.  “Nah, I mean.  I say a lot of shit on my show.  I’m sure any who aren’t a fan of Muggleborns would have something to say to me.“

.

Isaac shook his head. “No... that’s...” He was having a hard time pushing the words through his teeth. “I understand. I expect nothing else really. I was thinking that this is weird for everybody.” But then, Aila explained herself. Oh. Isaac didn’t have a hard time believing that she was an angry person. She definitely seemed angry when they first bumped into each other. “I don’t think I’ve earned it. Your trust.”

A coldness seemed to settle in Isaac’s bones. Aila was here trying to make him feel better, but he can’t ignore the fact that Aila’s description for that night doesn’t exactly make him sound like he attacked her under the Imperius curse. He sounded unwilling but not cursed. And if that’s true... Isaac forced himself not to talk about it. “Maybe they just don’t want to mess up again. But is that enough for you to let your guard down?” Isaac felt a little guilty that he didn’t actually know what her show is about. “Really? You’ve angered all that people?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Lily Evans​:

A nod of her head followed his words, and truthfully, Lily understood his concern. It was hard. Do you blame the person who cast the spell, or the one who forced him to do so? How do you see past the wand to the real evil-doer? It was a hard situation, and not everyone would be able to look past it, she realized. “You’re right,” she said, shrugging ever so slightly. “It’s tricky. And not everyone would react the same. I s’pose I like to find the good in everyone, which can get me into sticky situations, sometimes. But, at the end of the day, I’d like to think I could see past that. You weren’t the one with intent.”

While Isaac had never been close to her, she’d never heard anything that would make her think he was a bad person. That didn’t mean he wasn’t, of course, but Lily couldn’t help but see the good; see his potential here. “I wouldn’t say it’s just for you,” she said, shrugging ever so slightly. “I won’t lie to you, Isaac. I feel like enough people are doing that. If you decided to take it, if it works that is, we might be able to obtain some valuable information about the people who did this to you.” Lily smiled softly. “But it’s your choice. I wouldn’t want to force it on you, and I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t.” Truthfully, she was glad he was hearing her out at all. 

Feelings and reactions, David had told him after Isaac went out in public for the first time and was treated like a pariah, weren’t always rational. They don’t always make sense and yet, somehow they were all still valid. “No offense, Lily. But not everybody can be like you. Not everyone would be able to see past that. And for a lot of people, the person who did the deed is just as awful as the person who willed him to do it.”

Isaac shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Back in Azkaban, Isaac wanted nothing more. He would have given everything he had to get his memories back. Even his sanity. But now that he’s been reexposed to reality, Isaac wouldn’t be able to say the same. “I... I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Instinctively, his hand reached for his marked arm, hidden underneath the sleave. “I... these are bad people. Even I know that, at least. If something gets out... they... they might know it was me. They’ll surely find their way back to me. Or my dad. And I can’t afford that. I hope you understand.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

For a moment, Mary only focused on her breathing. Luckily, Isaac didn’t push her, though. He just changed the topic to something that wasn’t easy to talk about but at least was better than the one they had been skirting around. “Yes. It’s like a huge wash of calm and… and elation.” She wrapped her arms around her body and looked down at her feet to avoid his reaction. She had always avoided talking about the effects of the curse with her friends out of dread of being judged for talking about it in such a positive way but there was no way to describe the feeling except positive as that was how it felt at the time. It was only afterwards, waking up, that the negative feelings of a lack of autonomy started to settle in.

She gave a little sigh before forcing herself to continue. “You get this little voice in your head telling you what to do and it seems like the best idea. It becomes impossible to think of any reason why you shouldn’t or even to feel like you should be looking for a reason not to do it. Any worries or fear or sadness are just gone and all it leaves you with is that voice. That’s why I say you might remember feeling like you wanted to do it but you shouldn’t trust that feeling.”

Isaac wanted to hate himself for it. To feel disgusted at himself for it. But how can you hate a whole for its missing part? Can Isaac hate himself when he genuinely believes that he’s no longer the person who was forced to commit such an act? He felt himself shrink, but was it due to his shame, or was he simply mirroring Mary in front of him? “I see. I don’t know if that makes it sound better or worse.” He immediately found the answer to that as Mary continued to explain. To move only because you were persuaded that the only thing worth doing is moving. To act only because you were compelled that nothing else was mattered in the world but committing that act. At least, simply being forced to do something allows you the freedom to still hate the act as you’re doing it. But for that to be taken from you as well? What could possibly be more sinister? Isaac turned to stare at Rosalind’s gravestone. “I’m glad I don’t remember,”  he finally admitted for the very first time. “I think... I don’t ever want to remember.” He faced Rosalind’s friend once again. “Do you think that’s selfish of me?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Lily Evans​:

Lily watched as he ate the biscuits, taking a small reprieve for herself to breathe. She hated Order missions which forced her to be disingenuous. She hated that she couldn’t just leave the biscuits with a note and a smile, and hopefully let him go on with his day. Still, she was here now, and at least the potion might bring him some hope. “I would like to think I would, after some time,” she said, nodding at him. “I would like to think that if I were under some sort of spell, my friends would know that that is not the person I am.” She shrugged, holding her hands together before looking down at her feet. 

“I’ve got a potion in the works,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m a… well I’m a potioneer’s assistant right now but I’d like to be a potioneer myself one day. I’ve always been interested in memory charms and wondered if… Well, if potions could help revive those memories lost. From obliviation or what have you.” Lily pursued her lips. “I’m working on it. It won’t be for a while and potentially never but… I might be able to help. If you’d like that.”

That’s what he wanted to hear, wasn’t it? That he would be forgiven. And pardoned for the blood in his hands. But hearing Lily say these words did little to alleviate the guilt brewing inside him. At the end of the day, it was easier said than done. Lily would never know the full magnitude of the pain he’s caused because he didn’t know Rosalind. “I guess I appreciate that. But who knows how the real people I’ve hurt would react, eh? They... they don’t even know why she’s dead. I don’t know if that makes things better or worse.”

Isaac stared at Lily as if she were mad. Does such a potion really exist? Isaac wouldn’t even be able to tell. But surely, the ministry would have already thought of that and forced it upon him just so they could get the answers that he wants. Right now, Lily just seems like she’s offering the impossible. Was she foolish or just overly optimistic? “You’re willing to create such thing... just for me? But why?” She was careful not to promise too much but it felt like a promise just the same. “Maybe... Maybe I’m better off not knowing.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Aila Johnson​:

She loved the anonymity you could find in a pub like this.  Everyone else was just too focused on their own shit or were busy waiting on their mates.  You could blend in a busy pub better than anywhere else.  Maybe Isaac knew that, and that was why he suggested it.  Or maybe it was just a sort of security blanket.  She wasn’t sure, nor did she particularly care.  

“I think so,” she sighed.  “I’m not all that introspective, to be honest.  I just – saw you, and I knew that I needed to say something.  I’m not mad at you though, not that it really matters.  I know that you don’t remember, but you made it pretty clear it wasn’t your idea that night.”  She sighed.  “I wish I knew who I pissed off,” she admitted.  “so I could either avoid them or kick their ass, depending on who it is.  But – not terrible, I guess.  Do you want some food?  The food here is disgusting, and I love it all.”

Isaac never mistook Aila as someone who second-guesses telling other people what she thinks. So when she admitted that most of what she wanted to say was already said, Isaac didn’t doubt it. He wanted to feel more at ease because of that but he couldn’t. “Okay.” How many times is he going to have to repeat that word today? “I guess I’m glad that you’re not mad. It saves us both a lot of trouble.”

It was an awful thought but Isaac thanked his past self for making it clear. It was one of the facts that helped him the most to get out of Azkaban. “I suppose I should thank you for that too. For telling them that it looked like it wasn’t my idea.” Isaac studied her face but he didn’t see anything other than honesty in her words. “I wish I knew too. But... I don’t think I would be here now if I can remember.” Isaac would probably be hiding. Or worse, he could be six feet underground. “Don’t you know the people who might wish harm upon you? Also, I’m okay really. I wasn’t out looking for something to eat.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Frank Longbottom​:

It was hard to know what exactly to say to someone when it wasn’t really your place to comfort them.  He wasn’t friends with Isaac, nor had he had any part of the reason why he was hurting.  But he still felt the need to comfort and to help him if he could.  “Yes,” he nodded, walking alongside him until they came to their intended destination.  “I suppose so.”

When they found a good spot he took a seat, hoping he would look less threatening sitting down.  “I just wanted to…” he trailed off.  “I’m actually not sure what I wanted.  Just know that I’m still happy to work with you, and I wanted to see if there was anything that I could do.”

.

Isaac didn’t really want to sit down. He preferred walking with no destination in mind. It allowed his body to continue moving. Even if it’s just one step in front of the other, it was good enough to keep him from fidgeting. It also allowed him to look at nothing in particular. Sitting down, he’ll have to fix his gaze on something. It couldn’t be at other people. He’s too afraid that he’d look suspicious and cause anyone who’d catch him to be alarmed. He couldn’t look at his companion. He was afraid of what he might see. So instead, Isaac chose to just look at his hands.

He didn’t know what to say at first. But the mention of work gave him something to reply with. “I don’t think I’m getting my old job back. Don’t worry. I don’t want it back either. With my memory gone, I’ll have to start from the ground up. Besides, I don’t think I’m the same person who wanted to be the Hit-Wizard. Not anymore.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

tw: discussion of self-harm & suicide attempt

The biggest downside to having this conversation in a cemetery was there was nowhere to sit and nowhere to hold herself up as Mary felt like her limbs may fail her. She was resigned to wrap her arms around her body as if she might be able to hold herself together that way, her body shaking with her tears and with everything she was holding back from him. It threatened to burst from her but she couldn’t tell if that would help him see it wasn’t his fault or if it would simply break him completely.

It hurt to talk about herself but wasn’t that better than talking about who Rosalind had been to him? At least this might offer him some solace that he wasn’t really a murderer without making him face the reality of what had been taken from him. “They— they made me hurt myself,” she said, voice cracking. “I— I almost—” She couldn’t say it even though to this day when she closed her eyes she still pictured that scene. “If you need to know, everybody who was at school that year knows about at least one time. Ask anyone but me. I’ll talk about how the actual curse feels but not what they made me do to myself.”

tw: discussion of self-harm & suicide attempt

Isaac’s instinct told him that he should approach her. Or hold her. Make sure that she remains upright. If how her body was shaking was any indication, it looked like she could collapse at any moment. But Isaac remained rooted in place. He didn’t know where his hesitation was rooted from. Perversion? Anticipation? Or the fact that nobody has really held him since he got out, so why would he offer the same thing to someone who looked like they needed it?

He was expecting Mary to recount the violence they made her do to someone else. He wasn’t expecting to hear how they made her enact violence upon herself. Isaac looked away. The shame he was expecting to be alleviated once she shared her own only magnified ten-fold. “Oh.” He could apologize but he didn’t see what good it would do so he just shut up. “I see.” Isaac learned enough. “I’ve read somewhere that it’s supposed to feel good. While we were cursed. So did it?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Lily Evans​:

A soft smile formed on her lips at the talk of Harry. It was nice to tell someone about him; someone who had no idea who he was and who she didn’t have to fear about retelling a story. Not that Mary or Sirius or Remus would mind, she figured, but Lily knew how special all their relationships were with her son. It was nice to talk about him; it felt almost normal, even though she was here for other reasons. “He is,” she said, kindly. “Who knew a kid could be my whole world?” She pointed at him playfully. “So don’t say any bad word on those sprinkles.”

They were haphazardly thrown on the tops of the biscuits, but Lily was sure they’d still taste fine. She gently ran a hand through her hair and nodded, eyes scanning the shelves around her. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, sadly, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry you went there. It’s not your… it’s not your fault.” A deep breath followed his words and she smiled sadly. “These days isn’t everyone looking for something?” Lily closed her eyes, feeling badly about asking. “I hate to ask, I just want to know if there’s anything you can remember. Anything at all.” She shook her head. “If not, it’s understandable but I would… I would like to help if I could. If you’d let me.”

Isaac finally decided to indulge himself and grab one of Lily’s pastries. So the little one added the sprinkles, huh? He tried to imagine his younger self. With David whose face still didn’t carry the lines lent to him by the years. With his mother whose face Isaac still hasn’t seen even though he was told she’s still alive and well. Maybe a memory just like that existed in his parents’ minds. If they existed, Isaac has no access to them. He looked back up at Lily and forced a smile. “I wasn’t thinking of it.”

“Are you?” Isaac’s honesty reappeared. Even after experiencing the hell that was Azkaban, Isaac was still under the impression that he definitely belonged in the prison. Especially since he did what they said he did. “Would you still think that if you were her friend?” Isaac didn’t feel the need to specify whom he was inferring. He didn’t even give himself time to think about it. He promptly shook his head. A furrow appeared on his eyebrows when he heard her offer. “How? What exactly do you mean?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Aila Johnson​:

When he agreed to join her she felt some of the tension leave her fists.  She knew she had dug those familiar half moons into her palms, but she couldn’t dwell too much on that for right now.  She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, but she did know that if she was going to move on from that night she needed to have some sort of a conversation with him.  He didn’t remember, he couldn’t tell you who had started him on that path or why he had done it, but she just – she just needed to do this.

She nodded carefully, ordering their drinks and then bringing them back to the table in the far back of the room.  It was dark enough that if any eyes fell upon them she doubted they would recognize either of them, which was likely what he was after.  “Here.”  She passed in the drink and then door a few, long sips of her own before answering.  “I – I am not really sure,” she admitted.  “I just – needed some closure.  I know you don’t remember but – I mean, it was pretty clear that it wasn’t your idea so… I am also not mad at you, which is a bullshit statement, I know.  But it’s still true, even if it doesn’t really matter to you.  We all have our shit, and no harm, no foul, right?”  She paused.  “Are you – you’re probably not doing that great, are you?”

.

In the darkness, Isaac first felt unease. This was an unusual situation with the most unusual person. But somehow, there was some comfort to be found in the fact that nobody else seemed to care that they were there. Maybe all of the people there were just as uncomfortable as they were. A quick around proved that to be untrue. Someone had their feet up on the table like they owned the place.

Isaac accepted the drink without a word. He tried to keep most of his judgment to himself as she talked but he couldn’t help but let a huff or two escape. Closure. What would that even look like when one of them couldn’t remember what they have done? “Okay.” He found himself saying. He was expecting her to throw him a question about that night. But she didn’t. And for that Isaac was grateful. “No harm, no foul. Did you just need to get that out of your chest?” Isaac cocked his head but his face revealed nothing. “I don’t know. There’s not much for me to be. But yeah. I guess I’m not doing great. And you?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

Mary wished she could tell him how wrong he was. If it hadn’t been for how events had unfolded, he would have been the first person who should have been there. Or first after her parents, perhaps. Isaac certainly had more right to be there than Mary did. It was too anxiety-inducing, though, and she felt that telling him about him and Rosalind was much too much responsibility for her to take on. So while she wanted to tell him that she did know he wouldn’t have done it willingly and why, all she could do was let an unending stream of tears fall down her face and stay silent.

Slowly, she nodded. “A couple of times.” An understatement. “You wake up remembering wanting to do things that you know you’d never want to do in your right mind. They made me—” But she couldn’t say what she had been made to do and it wasn’t important any more, anyway. Nobody had died from Mary being under the curse.

The woman’s tears were proof that Isaac should start making his way out of the cemetery. He was expecting agreement. As Rosalind’s friend why would she want Isaac to be there, her murderer, whether he wanted to kill her or not? He was the reason that she no longer walked with the living. His existence meant her doom.

And yet, she didn’t agree with him. Nor did she asked how dare he disrespects Rosalind even after she has passed by tainting her grave with his presence. Instead, she was offering solace. Sympathy. She was trying to tell him that she knew his pain and that he isn’t alone. “They made you do what?” Isaac insisted. It was obvious that she didn’t want to relive those memories. But Isaac felt the need to hear it. He needed to see her acknowledge her shame. Perhaps if he saw her do so, he can finally learn how to acknowledge his own. Maybe then he can have an idea about how he was supposed to be dealing with everything. “Tell me. Please.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

Mary hummed her agreement rather than speaking it because there was a lump in her throat and she felt like she was going to cry if she tried to open her mouth. Except moments later he was apologising for killing Rosalind, referring to her only as Mary’s friend, and the tears spilled anyway. She couldn’t help it. Rosalind was dead and that was awful but the real tragedy here was that Isaac didn’t know who she was. Who Rosalind had been to him. That Mary had forgiven him months ago for standing back and doing nothing in school because Rosalind had caused him to grow into a better person.

“I— No, you— It’s—” The words stuck in her throat but she forced her way past the stutter anyway. “You didn’t. Want to, I mean. You might— If your memories start to come back, you might find yourself thinking you did but that’s just the curse. That’s what it does. I know you didn’t want to and you didn’t have a choice. It’s—” She took a breath before offering something she never thought she would. “If you want to know what it’s like, being under the Imperius, I can tell you.”

When Isaac turned to look back at Mary, tears were already streaming down his face. The urge to leave this uncomfortable situation couldn’t be any stronger. She wasn’t accusing him of anything. Not with words at least. But she might as well have as he looked at Isaac with sadness that he couldn’t comprehend. He wanted to apologize again. He wanted his apology to be mean something more. But he realized he shouldn’t make this situation worse. “I.. shouldn’t be here.”

But then she continued. Somehow, she was trying to comfort him. Was she confused? Isaac definitely was. He looked away, unable to stare at Mary for too long. Compassion, pity. Isaac didn’t need it nor did he want it. Especially from someone who was Rosalind’s friend. He didn’t deserve it. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that.” How can she when she wasn’t there? Her offer came out of nowhere. He stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve been under the curse too?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Frank Longbottom​:

The last thing that he wanted was to make Isaac feel uncomfortable.  And he felt fairly certain he was teetering on dangerous ground at the mention of work – he wasn’t sure what Isaac remembered, but if he didn’t remember Frank he was sure that a chunk of his work life was missing as well.  “Oh, it doesn’t much matter.  Either way, we did know each other.”

He nodded, letting Isaac lead the way in whatever direction he felt the most comfortable and Frank followed a pace or two behind.  “Whatever you prefer,” he said easily.  He was sure that a lot of people were looking in on Isaac, and he was sure it was incredibly uncomfortable trying to determine who truly cared for him and who wanted to see what he remembered.  “I wouldn’t say that we were friends,” Frank clarified.  “but I liked working with you.  We worked well together.”

.

The man said it as factual as he could. There was no hint of pretense to what he said. Nor did it seem that he had any ulterior motives. Isaac had no reason to doubt his words, so he had no choice but to take them as they are. “Then I suppose we did.” Isaac did somewhat recognize his name, so that must be true. 

He was relieved when the man easily agreed with his wishes. It’s for the best, really. For both of them. Isaac didn’t want to get stared at. And surely, Frank also wouldn’t want to be gawked at as he associates himself with a murderer. Isaac frowned before he realized just how what he said sounded. “No. Of course. I wasn’t implying that we were. I just figured you were one of those people. Just another curious soul, am I right?” he said with no real bitterness in his voice. Can’t be disappointed in your friends if you don’t even remember them, right? If he even had any.

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Aila Johnson​:

She rolled her eyes at the fucking semantics.  He was such a tool – but she couldn’t go off in the way she wanted to, because she did, truly, need to speak to him.  It wasn’t that she expected him to have any answers.  She just needed this for closure, to move past the fact that Isaac had attacked her and that someone had clearly asked him to, so that she could figure out who the mastermind was and stop focusing on the messenger.  “Hmmm,” was all that she could manage without getting herself into trouble.  “suppose that’s true.”

She nodded once, letting him go first.  A part of her was afraid it was all a rouse, that he’d apparate away as soon as her back was turned.  “I’m going to get a drink,” she muttered, once they were inside.  She figured if he were willing to go this far that it was probably safe to let him out of her sight for a moment.  “Do you want one?”

.

Somehow, Isaac could tell that she was holding herself back. Just so that she doesn’t scare him away. Was she that desperate to talk to him? Maybe. That tempered his flash of irritation. At the end of the day, she was the one who was supposedly wronged. Isaac was supposedly the wrongdoer. If he really attacked her, then this was the least he could do. So he challenged her no longer.

Isaac opened the doors first. No one in Cackling Stump dares to look other patrons in the eye so that worked pretty well for him. It also helps that Aila was the one volunteering to get them something. “Just beer. Don’t matter what it is, as long as it’s cold.” When she finally left, Isaac found both of them a booth away from any present customers who might have wandering ears. When she finally came back, Isac released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So. What exactly did you want to talk about?”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Lily Evans​:

Lily was used to people thinking she was too young to be a mum. It was a fact she had to learn to deal with, and she would never trade it for the world, especially because it had brought her Harry. Of course, she and James hadn’t planned what had happened, but it was the happiest she’d ever been, and she was lucky enough to be in a place in her life that it didn’t matter. “Yes!” she said, brightly. “His name is Harry. He’s, y’know, he’s only two, but he’s the love of my life. He helped make the biscuits, y’know. And by that I mean, he chose the color for the, uh, sprinkles.”

A laugh escaped her as she stepped inside, taking in the surroundings. “It’s really nice,” she said, about his house. “I mean… I can’t imagine what you’ve been through but, uh, this seems like a nice place to try and breathe.” Lily knew that he’d bene through so much; she couldn’t imagine waking up and not knowing what you’d done. Being surrounded by dementors. It must’ve been hell. 

Without a hint of hesitation, Lily confirmed that she is in fact a mother. And judging from her response alone, Isaac figured that she absolutely has no regrets about bringing a child into this world. With that, Isaac quelled his doubts. “Oh did he?” Isaac smiled but it looked unsure. Since his release, Isaac hasn’t interacted with anyone’s children. No parent in their right mind would, he figured. So he has no clue whether he’s good with kids or not. “He seems like a lovely kid.”

David’s house was small but it was littered with objects. Almost every corner of the house had its own bookshelf. Where there weren’t books, there were knick-knacks from all his travels during his work. Recently, he’s been collecting muggle items too. At least, that’s what David told Isaac. He wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise. “It is, I suppose. It’s definitely better than my cell in Azkaban,” he answered dryly. “I guess this is the part where I ask you if you want anything.”

[isaac-d-buchanan]

Mary MacDonald​:

“Mary MacDonald.” She chewed on her lip as she tried to decide how much more to tell him, her face screwing up in discomfort when he questioned the use of the word crossed. It was only when he brought up Rosalind being a muggle that Mary tugged anxiously at the hem of her denim jacket and let out a sigh that expressed both frustration and resignation. It almost felt as if she was breaking every rule she had ever made for herself to want to tell him but he deserved an explanation and she was able to give one to him.

“She was. My sister is a muggle, too. Both of my sisters are. At school, that was a problem with some people. I… I don’t know how much you know about all of that? But back then you used to hang around with the sorts of people who didn’t like me being a muggleborn and being at Hogwarts.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather herself. “My sister moved to London after university and met Rosalind and introduced her to me and—” And Isaac. She had introduced Mary to Isaac, oblivious to the fact that she already knew him. But Mary couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t bear to think that she now knew more about Isaac’s relationship with Rosalind than he did himself. Could he recover from knowing that he had killed his girlfriend? Did Mary want to burden him with that knowledge? She bit her lip and shook her head rather than finish her sentence, tears welling in her eyes.

Mary MacDonald.

The name didn’t ring any bells. That must have meant that she wasn’t from his year. She’s not a Slytherin either. Otherwise, Isaac would have remembered her. Or her name at least. Isaac had tried to jumpstart his memories by looking up the names of the people who went to Hogwarts during his year. He even read the names of those who weren’t in his year but were in the Slytherin House with him as well. All to no avail.

His eyes dropped and saw her anxious hands. Isaac could hardly blame her. Who would want to be caught by the murderer of the person whose grave you were visiting? But if she felt terrified... Then why doesn’t she just run away?

“Oh. I see.” The concept of muggleborns was reintroduced to him. And the concept of people hating muggleborns just because of that had to be explained to him too when they were talking to him about his crime. Mary sounded like she was sugarcoating it but Isaac could read between the lines. “I hung around the wrong crowd then?” This was news to Isaac but none of it was a surprise. 

Isaac’s eyebrows couldn’t be more furrowed. So what she was saying was that Isaac killed her muggle friend? That her two worlds collided with the grim news of Rosalind’s death. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I know it doesn’t mean anything but I’m sorry I killed your friend. I was told I was made to do it. But I can’t really remember that, can I? All I could do is wish that I truly didn’t want to do it.” He turned to look at the gravestone. His face turned bitter. “But wishing isn’t going to change anything at all, will it?”