Almost

Chapter 16: Not Sorry

Katherine sat at the Nest's kitchen table the next afternoon with a blanket over her shoulders. She'd slept in late that morning and was still rubbing her eyes. Her Ollivander's mug sat next to her, filled for the third time and emitting slow swirls of steam. For the first time in months, she had her laptop out.

"Where does one put 'broke into MACUSA' on this..." she muttered as she reformatted the document for the umpteenth time. Smithwick kept jumping up on the table and sitting on her keyboard, so she was trying to keep him in her lap with constant ear scratches.

She absentmindedly drained half of her coffee in one gulp, grimacing when she realized it was far too hot to have done that. She was trying to down cool with gulps of water when she felt a shock run through her and Crawley flew through the door.

"Iz has mysteriously gained her memories back," he said. He took off his suit coat and threw it over the chair across from her.

She feigned surprise as best she could. "Really?"

"Amazing how it happened the same day you had to go to London for some unexplainable reason."

"What a coincidence." Even she couldn't pretend she was convincing, so she just turned back to her computer.

"Picquery said they were by her cell and heard something like a door closing, then suddenly Iz was Iz again. They couldn't find anyone unusual on the maps in the Prison."

Katherine bit her cheek. Knew they'd hear the door, she thought. But she didn't say anything more for a few long moments when Crawley didn't move a muscle. She sighed but didn't meet his eye.

"If you are going to chastise me, just do it."

"You said you were going to London."

"I did," she answered truthfully. "You saw me go to Harry and Ginny's. They send their love."

"You and Potter couldn't possibly have planned anything—"

"You've said a lot of things I couldn't have done. Couldn't get into MACUSA, couldn't get through the barriers, now couldn't have made a plan. What do you think I can do?"

"Unbelievable," Crawley said, shaking his head and walking over to the couch. He placed his hands on the back of it and leaned forward, making it impossible for her to steal a look at his face. When he stood up and ran his hands through his hair, she knew he wasn't done with the conversation.

"What if you would have gotten caught? What if—"

"You said yourself no one got caught."

"But what if—"

"No one got caught," Katherine repeated more forcefully.

"You were in my office, weren't you? There were singe marks on that stupid book—that was you."

She didn't answer, just kept her eyes trained on the laptop. It was going to die soon, but she willed the battery to hold on until the argument was done. Nothing worse than pretending to be engrossed in a dark screen.

"Where else did you go?" he asked. "Katherine, so help me, if you mean to tell me you went through the whole Prison full of dark witches and wizards—"

"They couldn't even see me, let alone hurt me."

"But no thought to give me a little warning, a heads up that you were going to traipse into—"

"Sorry, Crawley, guess you'll have to try a little harder to tame me!" She had finally looked up at him, her eyes a blazing blue green. But she only left them there a moment before turning back to the now dark, dead screen. "My computer's dead."