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September, 1929
IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS.
Circe stands at the cemetery alone. Two bouquets in hand, she weaves through the tombstones until she finds the two she's looking for. They're near each other, because while Holden's family decided where his grave would be, Leta's was based upon the decision of her friends.
They're both upon a small hill, quite small. If it was fully Circe's decision, she would have made their tombstones larger. In fact, she would've wanted them to have statues, but she knows she's biased.
There were more Aurors who died that night.
Yet none of them for the same reasons as Holden and Leta. The other Aurors, they wanted to run. But Holden and Leta sought to protect the people they cared about.
For Circe, they were heroes.
She smiles, laying down a bouquet of red and blue roses on Holden's grave. She had to use a charm to change some of them to blue, but she needed Holden to know — wherever he rests now — that she still thinks of him. That she thinks of them.
Blue for Circe; red for Holden.
A Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor.
She wants to laugh, remembering that she and Holden used to dislike each other at Hogwarts, when he and Perse were joined at the hip. She'd turned him into a few different animals during their Hogwarts years together. She wasn't necessarily fond of Gryffindors in general.
"I wish I could've done more," she whispers.
Circe kneels by the tombstone. Kissing her fingers, she touches it. The only thing that specifies it's his grave. They had to bury empty graves for both Holden and Leta.
"I will help stop him," she says determinedly. "I promise ... I'll make sure your sacrifice wasn't in vain."
