There was nothing in sight
There was nowhere to hide
And the ground caved in
And your voice was all I heard

---

The House at the End of the Row, Corlett Court, York

The weather up in York was a gap from London - warm to cool and rainy, something Mordecai didn’t like very much. But the weather was predictably unpredictable and there was not much he could do other than shiver the moment he stepped out of the fireplace. He hadn’t brought his coat - all he had intended to do was Floo in and out. Easy enough.

“Father?” he called out into the house. There was no answer; he surmised that either his father was upstairs or out in the backyard. He gently set the bag down in the dining room and heard the door click. Mordecai frowned and headed into the hallway, hand on wand just in case. The figure at the door was recognisable enough that he loosened his grip on his wand.

“You went out?” he asked his father as Linus stepped into the light falling through the door from the fireplace and the dim lights in the dining room. “Fairly damp today for a walk.”

“Mind your own business, son.” At least he was calling him son. Linus hadn’t called Mordecai by his name since his wife's death. “Why are you here? I thought you were too busy with your job in the Ministry to visit your old man.”

“Picked up your tobacco,” said Mordecai. Linus smoked enough to possibly drive St Nicholas out of the chimney on Christmas. He knew Arcturus had also picked up the habit, but the healer at least made the effort to smoke outside, even going as far as to measure the distance from the house before doing so. Linus didn’t. “Your supplier’s cutting down on delivery costs so customers don’t have to pay the excess.”

“Bah. Everything’s so expensive these days, and where’s the money going? Someone’s pockets, I’m sure.” Not a word of thanks, but Mordecai had learned not to expect one.

He followed his father into the dining room and watched as Linus inspected the parcel. You missed the security questions, but who would bother impersonating Linus? Anyone looking for your head would seek out someone you cared for more, like Arcturus.

“I’ll be going now, father,” he said quietly, heading for the fireplace before his personal voice decided to add further thoughts. “The family’s coming over for Christmas, but Lydia’s parents won’t be coming. The Floo from last time didn’t sit well.”

“Have you been in contact with your sister?”

The question came out of thin air, so much so that Mordecai was speechless for a moment. He turned around. “Sister?” he asked, bewildered. “You told me never to call her that in this house--”

“I’m your father, I change the rules anytime and you’re in my house.” Mordecai bit his lip in order not to say anything to this. “Have you been in contact with her?”

“No.”

Linus stared at Mordecai. “You better not be lying to your old man.”

“You can be assured that never even crossed my mind,” replied the younger man flatly. “I haven’t been in contact. I don’t know where she is. The Ministry has not prioritised her on their criminal watchlist.”

“Why not?” Linus leaned against the table. “Someone like her shouldn’t be roaming around free.”

Mordecai threw his hands into the air. “I’m not in charge of that. She hasn’t committed any crime that counts under the Improper Use of Magic Office, father. You’re better off asking the Head of Law Enforcement about her criminal status than I am - I don’t have the power to pardon without a trial and even that requires the Wizengamot.” He’d been utterly confused by this conversation the whole time, and his tone showed it.

Linus made a disgusted gruff sound, shaking his head. “The Ministry’s getting soft, I tell you. Softer and softer these days. What are we trusting our government for when they can’t even look after us and take out the rubbish like they used to?”

His son remained silent. This was apparently the wrong choice, because the disgusted look that Linus gave him made Mordecai opened his mouth to speak. But Linus overrode him without breaking pace. “All crimes should be treated equally, big or small. That you all overlook the small ones for bigger problems does not make the small problems go away. Shouldn’t you be serving up crimes daily to the department? Who’s the one in charge now? A Carstairs, not even surprising.”

Solomon Carstairs was actually reasonable compared to previous Magical Law Enforcement Heads. But when Linus was going on one of his tirades, Mordecai remained silent.

“You should confess to it,” Linus said, glowering at his son.

“Pardon?” There was an uncharacteristic hint of ludicrousness in Mordecai’s tone. “Confess to... what? I’ve told you that I’ve not had contact with her.”

In one swift movement the former Obliviator pointed his wand at Mordecai. The abrupt silence had Mordecai look down slowly to confirm that, yes, he had also reflexively pulled out his wand. His hand trembled in the uncertainty, the dawning realisation of how this looked to his father.

“You dare draw your wand on me, boy?” Linus growled. “I bring you up in this house, and you dare turn your words and wand on me? Where’s your gratitude, boy?”

The house held its breath. Mordecai lowered his wand slowly. At that moment, he felt shame and guilt… and anger. He would feel betrayed if Arcturus had done the same… but not for the same reasons.

When Linus next spoke, he regretted the choice to lower his wand. “You know what I’m thinking of? A Prohibition Jinx. A pact of silence. You will never speak of her as long as I’m alive.”

“What? I-- no.” Mordecai’s jaw set. “That’s… you think that silencing me will ensure no one ever knows about her? I will not have you silence--”

“Shut it.” The tip of the wand came dangerously close to his face. Mordecai stopped, mostly out of fear than obedience. There was silence again, Linus’s eyes not on him but his wand hand… that Mordecai did not lift this time.

The next thing he remembered was being bodily slammed against the wall hard enough that when he recovered, something warm and wet was running down his lips. He pressed the ball of his hand to his face and came away with glistening dark red as his world steadied itself around him.

“...sister… Morgana...Morgana Hollingbury…” Mordecai tried to pull himself together, but the sight of the blood and the impact from the wall had made him light-headed. It took him all of his sheer willpower to not lose consciousness, not while the shock was still reverberating through his bones.

He pulled himself up, staggering off the floor, in time to hear Linus stop speaking - only for him to wave his wand. “Prohibeo.”

“N-no!” Mordecai wiped his nose again, taking deep breaths despite the blood. “Wait--”

“Ego absit!” It was as if a scarf had tightened around his throat. Mordecai gasped, reaching for his neck, but then the sensation of lack of air was gone. The leaden feeling of knowing that he was now bound without his consent to a pact of silence remained.

Linus put his wand away with an air of satisfaction. “If you dare utter so much as one sound about her,” he said, “I’ll know.”

His insides churned with sheer disgust. The bitter twist of repulsion, bile rising in his throat in cold fury. Mordecai turned on his heel and strode out the door without looking back, slamming it behind him. It was only at the gate that he stopped to wipe his dripping nose before he remembered - Lydia would ask. Shit.

He took out his wand and waved it at his nose vaguely, wincing as whatever broke mended itself and the blood vanished into thin air. The stains on his sleeve dissipated as he siphoned the sticky mess on his hand.

In the rain, Mordecai put his wand away, shivered in the cold, in contempt and guilt, and apparated.