Damned If You Do [Curse/Alex]

[Max Kameren]

Place Dept of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Offices | Time December 2018 | Characters Involved Curse Kameren, Alex Kameren, Mosrael (disembodied)

---

He woke up covered in blood this morning.

Curse had been losing time for weeks; he would sit at his desk in the morning and when he next looked up it would be late afternoon, or he would go to sleep and instantly be greeted by morning light coming in his apartment windows. It was most common at night, making him exhausted at work and unable to focus properly on his department. Somehow the more tired he was the worse it got, until he wasn’t going more than a few days without losing hours inbetween.

He overworked himself, that much everyone knew. At first he’d chalked it up to that, fatigue catching up with him and lapsing his memory. Then, maybe it was the drinking; after what he’d seen and done in his life it was no wonder he could put away the firewhiskey, but maybe he’d crossed a line. But he’d tried to get some rest, and tried quitting drinking. And now there was blood. It crusted on his hands and soaked into his shirt sleeves, like he’d cut himself badly. Or someone else, he thought with his stomach turning.

I wouldn’t worry about it.

The voice nearly scared Curse out of his skin as he jumped out of his office chair, eyes darting around for the figure to accompany. A laugh rumbled just behind his ear before fading away. No one was there, it was just him. It was early, the office was probably only just sputtering to life outside his locked office door. He ran a hand through his hair in his anxiety, before realizing what he did and shuddering at the sight of his hands.

Curse crossed to the small bathroom in the Head Auror’s office and frantically scrubbed at his hands, scraping with his nails where he needed to wash the patches of dried blood down the drain. As the blood washed away Curse noticed with dread that his thin, long fingers didn’t have a single scratch.

Knknknknock. “Head Auror?”

“Fuck,” he breathed, glaring over his shoulder at the twisting locked doorknob as he tried to comb the bits of red from his snow-white hair. It was his assistant - what was her name, he kept cycling through new ones - Julia, he thought. “Just a moment,” he barked.

“Head Auror, are you alright? Mr. Kameren?” Julie’s knocking didn’t cease as she called out to him on the other side of the door.

“For God’s sake - can I get a single moment of bloody peace?!” He shouted, slamming the door of the bathroom as he crossed back into the office and hit his side of the door to scare her off. “GO AWAY!”

There was a moment of embarrassed silence before her heard her slink off back to her desk.

. . .

“Auror Kameren?” Curse’s assistant, Beth, knocked cautiously on the younger Kameren brother’s open doorframe, looking up at him glassy-eyed through her mousy frames. “I - can you help me? Head Auror Kameren’s been locked in his office for hours…”

[Alecsander]

“Curse,” Alex leaned against the doorsill, examining the bathroom and its occupant. He’d already seen the desk and chair and the blood on them. At least it wasn’t his brother’s blood, something he’d never expect to tell from a glance but it was a consequence of the white death. Curse looked terrible, he was gaunt and pale, eyes sunken as he scrubbed at his hands. There was blood in his hair.

“Curse,” Alex said again, casting scourgify from where he stood just outside the bathroom. He wanted to crowd inside, to check his brother over and confirm he hadn’t been injured, but the room was small and there was a wild look in his brother’s eye. The blood wasn’t his. They would just have to figure the rest out together. Curse had been acting strangely for weeks, Alex almost always had an uneasy feeling in the deepest part of his mind, where he knew the connection to his brother lay.

He’d done research, experiments after that night last year, trying to figure out how much of this new tie was because of how the estate wards worked and how much was the ham-handed way they had literally blasted Curse into them. He didn’t feel a connection to Cedric, after all. However crude it had been and whatever side effects, it had been effective. He waited silently, watching Curse with unease and uncertainty, waiting for some response.

[Max Kameren]

“Curse,” Alex leaned against the doorsill. Curse jumped and the wards activated, overtaking Alex’s body in a tetanus-like effect; every muscle compacted him into an immovable position. “Curse,” Alex said again.

Curse was slow to deactivating the wards, letting Alex contort himself slightly out of his distraction and slightly out of annoyance that Alex would apparate into his officer rather than use the door. “A locked door means something, Alex. I told her and I’ll tell you - get out.”

He finally released his brother and Alex cast scourgify from where he stood just outside the bathroom to clean up the specks of blood still circling the drain. He pushed past his brother into his office, touching the desk and chair lightly to start the blood fading away. His dark, stony scowl spoke of his embarrassment at being found in such a position. He was the Greatest Wizard of his Age, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he remember anything? What was happening to him?

“Why are you even in this early?” He stood at his desk with his back turned to Alex, digging at the red lines still visible under his fingernails. “I told you to leave - “

He heard it again, the amused chuckle just behind his ear that sent a shiver up his spine. Curse flinched, disguising the involuntary motion by sitting clumsily into his desk chair. He could feel a dark twist of glee, something foreign in him that thrilled at him lashing out.

The realization hit Curse like a slap in the face and he stared down at his desk, squirming under Alex’s steady gaze. The silence that always goaded him into speaking never ceased when they became friendly, it had rather just grown on him. He couldn’t help speaking what was on his mind under Alex’s expectant gaze; he supposed that was how their bond had grown in the first place.

“How old was Cedric, when it started?” Curse looked up to meet his brother’s steady gaze. It wasn’t a question, as they both knew it happened before either of them were born. Instead Curse his most terrifying theory of what was happening to him out into the world to breathe air for the first time. He covered his face in his hands, leaning forward onto his desk with a fatigued huff. “I don’t know where the blood is from. I don’t know anything.”

[Alecsander]

“Curse,” Alex leaned against the doorsill. Curse jumped and the wards activated, overtaking Alex’s body in a tetanus-like effect; every muscle compacted him into an immovable position. “Curse,” Alex said again.

Curse was slow to deactivating the wards, letting Alex contort himself slightly out of his distraction and slightly out of annoyance that Alex would apparate into his officer rather than use the door. “A locked door means something, Alex. I told her and I’ll tell you - get out.”

“No,” Alex said simply, straightening with a slight huff of pain from where the wards had twisted the injury he’d taken during the morning’s arrest. He rotated the shoulder, grimacing a little as he felt the pull. Curse shoved his way past him, almost racing to his desk, tenseness in every line of his body. Alex remained silent, knowing Curse would speak up on his own.

“Why are you even in this early?” He stood at his desk with his back turned to Alex, digging at the red lines still visible under his fingernails. “I told you to leave - “

Alex shrugged, crossing the room to stand near the desk with crossed arms. He guessed it could be early. for a given amount of early. He would have to get Curse a more persistent assistant, one who wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to him. “Curse, it’s 3am on 4th.” He paused to let that sink in, “no one’s seen you since the second.”

“How old was Cedric, when it started?”

Somehow Curse’s question seemed inevitable, though they both knew the answer. Alex raised his brow as he thought, a small frown crossing his face.

“I don’t know where the blood is from. I don’t know anything.”

“We will figure it out.” He said resolutely, meeting Curse’s eyes. “But I don’t think this is the same.” He didn’t have an explanation, but it just didn’t seem right to Alex. Something was off, Curse was falling apart in front of his and everyone else’s eyes. “Maybe…” he hesitated, “maybe we should talk to mysteries. Or the cursebreakers.” Ironic name. He didn’t know what drove him to suggest it, but he had. The two fell into silence again, Alex falling into the familiar pattern of waiting out his brother’s inner thoughts.

[Max Kameren]

“Curse, it’s 3am on 4th.” He paused to let that sink in, “no one’s seen you since the second.”

A pit roiled in Curses stomach. That was much, much longer than any of his other losses had been. He thought he might be sick. “How old was Cedric, when it started?”

The silence between them spoke volumes. Curse rested his face in his hands, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself; if what Alex said was true, he would need to get a grip on himself and get some work done today, even if just to save face. Even before this, after Curse’s bout with Mosrael in the summer the Department Head and the Chief Hitwizard were looking at him sideways.

“I don’t know where the blood is from. I don’t know anything.”

“We will figure it out.” He said resolutely, meeting Curse’s eyes. “But I don’t think this is the same.”

“I hope you’re right,” Curse said simply, though it was clear in his tone he wasn’t quite as sure. Curse had only met their father once, face-to-face behind cell doors in Azkaban. It was brief, but Cedric’s mannerisms were uncomfortably familiar. He also had the dark eyes and sunken cheeks from never sleeping. He heard voices, too.

“Maybe…” he hesitated, “maybe we should talk to mysteries. Or the cursebreakers.”

“No.” The response was immediate. Curse shook his head defiantly and stood, unbuttoning his sullied shirt and crossing to the closet for a fresh one. “This can’t leave us, you hear me? They’ll want my resignation. I’ll lose my job.”

At this point Curse’s Auror work was the only thing keeping him connected to reality. If he didn’t have his cases to work on, if he couldn’t be an auror, who was he? The darkness would be all he had.

[Alecsander]

“No.” The response was immediate. Curse shook his head defiantly and stood, unbuttoning his sullied shirt and crossing to the closet for a fresh one. “This can’t leave us, you hear me? They’ll want my resignation. I’ll lose my job.”

Alex scowled, rolling his eyes. “Fine, for now.” Leaning against the desk, he watched as Curse dug around for clean clothes. “…Cain’s back from America.” He said slowly, parsing his thoughts as he did so. “He’d keep his mouth shut.” They were damnably similar in many ways, though they hadn’t met yet he was sure he was in for chaos aplenty if they did. “Promise me you’ll consider it if this gets worse Kris.”

He motioned at the stack of papers and folded memos overflowing the desk. “Since I know mentioning the time isn’t going to sway you, at least let me help you.” The administrative and day-to-day tasking for head auror was practically drifting over the desk. Curse tended to focus on cases when he had his bouts of focus lately. “We don’t want you fired, after all.”

[Max Kameren]

“This can’t leave us, you hear me? They’ll want my resignation. I’ll lose my job.”

“Fine, for now.” Curse turned to be sure Alex saw his exaggerated eye roll as he buttoned a clean shirt up over his undershirt. He glanced sideways at his foe-glass to check for any blood he missed. No blood, but there was a shadow breaking his outline and fading his body into a dark mist. He hadn’t seen it act that way before - was it a trick of the light? The foe-glass was supposed to reveal an enemy, not blur his own figure.

“…Cain’s back from America.” Alex cut Curse’s train of thought and distracted his suspicion away from the mirror. “He’d keep his mouth shut.”

“I don’t know Cain.” Curse’s tone was flat as he straightened his collar and deemed himself presentable enough for the Auror offices. That would mean enough from the notoriously paranoid Kameren; Cain may be a confidant to Alex, but Curse and Alex were different. Besides, how long had he been away? Maybe he’d made new allies in his absence. If being an auror taught you anything it was that people contained multitudes; anyone could have the face of an ally and be working against them in the shadows.

“Promise me you’ll consider it if this gets worse Kris.”

Curse glanced up from where he’d bent over his desk with a crooked smile. Kris was a name he generally only reserved for family and lovers. Alex was the only family he had, but even he rarely called him by his first name. “You’re first-naming me, so this must be serious. I’ll consider it.”

Alex motioned at the stack of papers and folded memos overflowing the desk. Curse bowed his head in embarrassment; it was undeniable that Curse had been a better Auror than Head Auror. Curse was good for curbing corruption in the department and solving cases; so far in his short tenure his administrative duties had fallen by the wayside. “Since I know mentioning the time isn’t going to sway you, at least let me help you.”

“Thank you.” Curse organized sheets of parchment as Alex grabbed for them, placing memos and forms together related by case. His hand stalled as he watched Alex start to work, a crooked smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You’d be good for this, one day. Better than me, though I’m sure I’ll be too far gone from the poison to see it.” He chuckled.

“We don’t want you fired, after all.”

“I think you’re the only one.” Curse scoffed and turned on his heel from the desk for his office door. It opened to the bright light of the office, and his assistant sitting on the edge of her seat. “Julia? Go home, you don’t have to be in whenever I am.”

“It’s Beth, sir.” She looked a little roiled at his misnomer after so long worrying about him. The first day she’d gone home and come back as normal, but after day two she stayed overnight to keep vigil. “You’ve been in there for days, sir - two days.”

Curse pinched the bridge of his nose as she spoke and he adjusted to the world outside his office. “Bill me for your overtime, then. Sorry Beth. Can you do something for me?” She huffed. “Can you bring me the overnight feed slips for the last three days from Hitwizards? The whole roll, please.”

When she turned to do as he asked Curse turned to Alex with an arched eyebrow - was it just him or was this a particularly, strangely dedicated assistant? Julia left after the incident with Mosrael, there's no way Beth had been around long enough to have this kind of emotional reaction to Curse's strange behavior. Especially because his behavior before this was also strange. When she returned with armfuls of rolled parchment Curse took them off her hands and thanked her before shutting the door once again. He carried the rolls back to his chair and piled them over his administrative work and prepared to scan them. "Alright, blood present, no assailant apprehended. What do we have..." His snowy eyebrows furrowed as he mumbled notes to himself, scanning quickly through the first two days' worth of rolls. There wasn't anything of interest until last night, only a few hours earlier. Curse marked two entries with his quill and ripped them from the roll. "Hmm. Antiquities dealer in north Diagon reports he was mugged while closing up the store. Cut above his eyebrow, no description, no suspects." He tilted his head as he moved to the other, grasping at his desk drawer for a loose cigarette. "And a prominent Legilimancer turned up badly beaten at the mouth of Diagon with no recollection of his attacker." 

It could be neither; Curse had no interest in antiquities, and could perform legilimens himself. But he didn't remember last night, so it could be either of them. Or both.

[Alecsander]

Alex riffled through a pile of papers, half-keeping an eye on Curse. There had to be something, maybe someone? His mind drifted as he calculated the possibilities. Something caught his attention and he whipped his head around to track it. Some sort of weird half-shadowy outline in the foe-glass. His chain of thought derailed, tried to remember where he’d been, “…Cain’s back from America. He’d keep his mouth shut.”

“I don’t know Cain.”

He frowned at the foe-glass as Curse moved away from it, then directed it back at his brother. Still. “Promise me you’ll consider it if this gets worse Kris.”

“You’re first-naming me, so this must be serious. I’ll consider it.”

Alex huffed, then handed Curse a stack of papers. He supposed the concession was as good as he was going to get. For now. He fully intended to follow up. “Since I know mentioning the time isn’t going to sway you, at least let me help you.”

“Thank you.” Curse organized sheets of parchment as Alex grabbed for them, placing memos and forms together related by case. His hand stalled as he watched Alex start to work, a crooked smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You’d be good for this, one day. Better than me, though I’m sure I’ll be too far gone from the poison to see it.” He chuckled.

“As if I’d want all that hassle,” Alex rolled his eyes, moving from the desk to a chair he pulled up opposite Curse. It was a lot of work, a lot of politics, a lot of wrangling aurors. Far more than just taking lead on cases and chasing down criminals and dark magic.
As Beth left them with even more paperwork, Alex cast a silencing spell around the office, meeting Curse look-for-look. He placed the case file currently in his hands aside, picking up another as Curse scanned through the rolls, muttering to himself.
“Hmm. Antiquities dealer in north Diagon reports he was mugged while closing up the store. Cut above his eyebrow, no description, no suspects." He tilted his head as he moved to the other, grasping at his desk drawer for a loose cigarette. "And a prominent Legilimancer turned up badly beaten at the mouth of Diagon with no recollection of his attacker."

“Show me your hands,” Alex suggested, raising a brow. A beating like that would leave bruises on Curse’s hands. Or it could be neither option, he supposed. “What about trying to take a memory?” The possibility was low it would work, but Alex firmly believed in exhausting all the options. He’d get Curse to talk to Cain if he could too, Cain was brilliant and even if it wasn’t a curse, he could at least eliminate the possibility.

[Max Kameren]

“Hmm. Antiquities dealer in north Diagon reports he was mugged while closing up the store. Cut above his eyebrow, no description, no suspects." He tilted his head as he moved to the other, grasping at his desk drawer for a loose cigarette. "And a prominent Legilimancer turned up badly beaten at the mouth of Diagon with no recollection of his attacker."

“Show me your hands,” Alex suggested, raising a brow.

Curse obliged, popping a cigarette in his mouth and showing Alex his clean, unblemished hands. When his brother was satisfied he lit the cigarette with a flick of his thumb, breathing out smoke as he spoke: “Doesn’t mean much, though. Don’t need to use hands to beat someone, could’ve been magic.” He shrugged. “Hell, or even a blunt object.”

“What about trying to take a memory?”

The Head Auror shrugged again. How could they pull a memory of something Curse didn’t remember, what would he focus on? He would need to fetch is personal pensieve to view it later, too. Couldn’t have his memories available to anyone waltzing into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. “Worth a try.”

Curse pulled his chair up closer to give Alex better access for the process, the ash on his cigarette growing long as he smoked without holding it. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the smoke and exhaling as he tried to focus on the blank space where the last two days had been. He had never tried pulling an amnesiac’s memory before, but maybe Alex was onto someth -

The touch of Alex’s wand sent a bloom of pain through Curse’s head like he’d pushed a knife into his temple instead. Curse yelled, shirking away so violently that he fell off the chair. His cigarette fell from his lips as he clutched his temples, burning a small hole into the wooden board.

Didn’t I tell you not to worry your little head about it?

Curse shuddered as the voice rang in his ears. He sat up to put his head between his knees, taking deep breaths until the voice’s ringing and the pain slowly ebbed away.

Curse swore quite creatively when he finally felt centered enough to look back up at Alex. “Going to have to change my mind on that one: not trying it again.”

[Alecsander]

“What about trying to take a memory?”

“Worth a try.”

He hadn’t expected Curse to be so accommodating, but Alex shrugged and stood up, leaning against the desk as Curse prepared himself. Pulling out his wand, he brought it up to his brother’s temple and started the spell. The reaction was immediate and violent, a knife lancing through his temple, Alex jerked his wand back as if he’d been burned, tripping over his feet as he stumbled backwards. Swearing as the pain faded to more of a throb, Alex scrambled to his feet to look over the desk at Curse. Both clutching their temples, though Curse looked like he had more than a throbbing headache to deal with.

“Going to have to change my mind on that one: not trying it again.”

“Well, its definitely not ‘just in your head’,” Alex ventured, shakily sitting on the desk he’d just vacated precipitously and rubbing his shoulder where he’d banged it (again) on the way down. “Curse, that’s definitely got to be a curse or a hex or something.”

[Max Kameren]

Curse was surprised to look up at Alex and see him also clutching his temples in pain. Was it the blood curses, or had she lashed out at him too? Either way, Alex feeling the pain in Curse’s head meant it was something physical, it wasn’t just him. He wasn’t imagining things, or at least not entirely. “Going to have to change my mind on that one: not trying it again.”

“Well, its definitely not ‘just in your head’,” Alex ventured.

“That’s a relief, though I would’ve preferred to learn that another way.” Curse’s head was still spinning and he covered his eyes to try to ground himself. He pulled the trash can near his desk closer in case he might be sick.

“Curse, that’s definitely got to be a curse or a hex or something.”

“Maybe it is,” he replied, “but that doesn’t change my circumstances.” Curse needed this job, not just for income but for his own health and safety. How would the hours move if he had nothing to occupy himself with? What would the voice say to him when there wasn’t a constant voice of reason - like Alex - nearby to negate her? Curse was holding onto reality by the tips of his fingers, if he didn’t have the Aurors to keep him steady he would lose his grip.

“I can’t lose this job, Alex. You don’t understand, I - “ He choked on the words, stalling as he realized he was telling his brother something he hadn’t told anyone before. “I’ve had these… tendencies before. Not the pain or the voices, but the blackouts.” He took an uneasy breath. “And the violence.”

Little was known about Curse’s years between Hogwarts and the Ministry in the UK, but there were certain areas in the Italian Wizarding Underground that could tell real horror stories. Of a skinny kid with cold green eyes and a lust for power, who had no empathy for his fellow man and little patience for mercy. Curse had made great strides to atone for what he’d done in the past. This morning, it felt like he was slipping away back to the man he used to be.

“I don’t know what will happen if I lose this.” He shook his head. “I’ll figure this out. I have to figure this out.” The best mind of his generation, they called him. But his mind was failing him, and fighting back was starting to feel futile.