antebellum [t. riddle]

xlii.

24 december 1944

warding magic wasn't inherently complex, but the caster could choose to make the magical barriers as elaborate as they wanted.

unfortunately for tom, sicaria was very thorough when it came to her wards. that was why it took so long for him to sort through all the wards on her dorm without her noticing. there had been several instances where he had to go to the library to find information on an unfamiliar spell. 

on the bright side, because she used such an outrageous number of spells, there weren't many variations or combinations that she could use to get creative with the spells in her house. he'd broken through the series of wards once before, and he'd be able to do it again, much, much quicker this time. he already knew what he was up against.

the moment she apparated out of the room, he went to her balcony, pulling away the drapes to stare out the glass door. he found himself looking down at a city he'd only ever seen in books and maps. the second thing he did was cast a magical analytic over her entire flat. he focused on the sections with more magic surrounding them, indicating that those places were the things she was trying hardest to hide. considering that he'd gotten through all of the wards on her room at hogwarts, he had a good idea of where to start with these.

most wards tend to be proximity based, since the source of their strength is in the caster. because sicaria had been gone for so long, the strength of the wards on her things had started to corrode, making them easy for tom to spot deficiencies in.

tom wasn't a fool; he knew very well that she had no intentions of talking to him, nor answering any of his questions when she returned from... wherever she was. she was going to be angry with him for looking through her things, but she couldn't say she hadn't seen it coming. he deserved an answer, and if she wasn't going to give him one, he'd find one on his own.

naturally, he first started to pick away at the parts where the magic was most concentrated. a random square of her wall, it was, until he broke through the first layers of notice-me-not's and disillusionment charms until he came across a magical safe.

he was still reading through the files and newspaper clippings when the clock struck midnight. names he recognized because of her, like alessandria goldenberg and barry campbell. there were documents detailing assignments she'd been on all over the globe, inquiries into her mental stability, and non-disclosure agreements. he casted a filtering spell that looked for anything that mentioned hogwarts or britain, and found the initial document detailing her assignment. it was dated 17 october 1944, signed agent 1231. 

he had never once been in a situation where his jaw had actually dropped, but the moment he laid eyes on the documents, he couldn't restrain himself. 

she was a spy. 

sicaria edwards was a spy. 

all the lies and manipulation, and he had never even scratched the surface of what was actually going on with her. 

he read as quickly as he could about her past assignments. city after city, crime after crime, investigation after investigation. there were no arrest records signed by her, so he assumed that she didn't have the authority to place anyone under arrest. 

it made him wonder about the legality of her job.

he only raised his head when he heard the crack of apparition, signaling she had returned.

he stared at her openly, not bothering to hide his expression.

"how?" she had whispered, staring at him with a look of horror. he would have committed the sight to memory if not for his own shock.