My whole life has been spent in the shadow of The Wizarding War. I've spent my whole life trying to get out from under it, and when I finally thought I did…The Second Wizarding War started. Sometimes I wonder if I was just bad in a past life? That I did something that made me deserving of the tragedy that came with being Harry Potter's cousin. I love my cousin…but life would have been simpler if I belonged to another family. But its all over now. Voldemort is dead for good, and everyone can live their happily ever afters.
The only problem is that mine is laying on the floor in front of me, dead. George is collapsed on the ground, crying hysterically at the lost of his twin. I'm not. I wanted to, but instead I'm standing back from the Weasleys, trying not to intrude on a family affair. I know they wouldn't mind if I fell down next to George and cried like there was no tomorrow, but I can't. Not here, not in front of everyone. Even though it was perfectly okay, I couldn't. I was a Slytherin. I wasn't the same as the rest of the Order of The Phoenix, or Dumbledore's Army. I didn't belong on here, crying with the others whom I fought along side. Nor did I belong with the Death Eaters, in chains or sitting amongst themselves, unsure of what to do with there lives now.
I turned, my cloak waving behind me as I walked from the Great Hall, and down the staircases into the Dungeons. My voice cracked as I mumbled the password, and watched the entrance to the Slytherin common room open. I walked down the passage and into the green tinted room I called home for all my seven years at Hogwarts. My seven years as Slytherin's Queen. I walked over to a black leather chair in the corner that had been my throne, and collapsed in it, looking out of the window that let you peek out into the lake. I had spent seven years sitting in this chair, and making jokes and gossiping with my fake friends. They feared me. They all knew my name. Nikki Black…the daughter of Sirius Black. I brought it on myself, I guess. I could have always taken my mother's name. Then I would have been scorned. I would have been a Blood Traitor from the moment someone learned my name. Not that I wasn't, but it didn't stop me from acting. From pretending to turn up my nose at Mudbloods and Blood Traitors and the whole lot of Gryffindor.
The only ones I truly held contempt for had been Fred and George Weasley. The infernal, red headed weasels who had singled me out as their favorite victim from first year. They liked that I fought back. I would go along with the witty insults, I would come back at them with a prank, I would hit them when they deserved it. "You're spunky, Black." They'd said, in the annoying unison way they spoke. And it had stayed as nothing but a mutual hatred between us until our fifth year. The one year I broke down and showed weakness at school. The year my father escaped from Azkaban. The year I spent dealing with questioning from the Ministry, the year I spent all my time worrying if mum would be arrested. The year I couldn't walk down the hall without someone pointing at me, and whispering to someone next to them.
Fred Weasley say me crying that year. I had been on my way to Remus' office. I was angry, and I intended to take out that anger on my poor godfather. But I didn't make it to his office. I ran into Fred instead.
"Whatever are you doing out of your dorm after hours, Prefect Black?" he asked, with a bemused smirk. I glared up at him. It was the first time I'd seen him without George.
"I'm a Prefect, I can be out after hours," I said simply, pushing past him.
"What? Gonna go let daddy back into the school?" He asked. I stopped and looked down.
"Shut the fuck up, Weasley. You don't know anything." I hissed.
"I know you're a little Death Eater in the making, and you're probably in cahoots with your Death Eater father to kill Harry Potter. Do you two think it'll bring your Dark Lord back?" I turned and slapped him with all my might, angry tears flowing down my face.
"Shut up, Weasley! You have no idea what it's like for me. Do you think I want to be the daughter of Sirius Black? Do you think I wanted to be in Slytherin? My mum cried when she found out I was put in that damned house! She could barely look at me with out seeing my father! My good for nothing, traitorous father!" I yelled, beating my fist against his chest. "I wish he was dead! I was wish I was a Gryffindor! I wish I could be more than a reminded of my mother's mistakes!" I screamed a few more things, mostly insults directed towards him.
"Calm down, Nikki…" He mumbled, patting my back in an attempt to comfort me. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said something like that…so…um…please stop crying? I don't like seeing girls cry…" I took a deep breath, and angrily wiped the tears from my face.
"I wasn't crying…my eyes were just water from looking at your face…" I grumbled, half-heartedly.
"I know I look godly, but its no reason to cry." He patted my head. "I'm sorry, Black." He walked off, and I grumbled something obscene before just turning back down the stairs and going to the Slytherin Dungeon. Remus was spared from my ranting and raving for tonight.
The next day, when George came up to me for our typical pre-Transfiguration argument, Fred stopped him, and patted my head like the night before. I tried to bite his hand. I feared he may think we were friends after I cried in front of him. "Gonna start crying from my face again, Black?" he'd asked with a smirk, slipping a parchment under my own when he and his brother had turned to leave. I slipped t in my pocket and read it under the desk during the lesson, while my 'best friend' dozed off. We cost Slytherin ten points each when McGonagall saw us.
Fred had asked me to meet him out in the courtyard during our evening free time. I didn't want to, but I was kind of curious what he wanted, so I went out to The Clock Tower courtyard, and met Fred behind one of the pillars.
"I heard they were your favorite." He mumbled, holding out a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. I was taken aback.
"How'd you find out?"
"I always see you coming back from Hogsmeade with a bag of them," he explained. "I'm pretty fond of them myself, so I had this pack…and thought you may like some?"
"Are they some of your prank candies?" I asked, peeking into the bag. "I saw what happened to the last person to eat them." He chuckled.
"If they were some of our candies, I would have offered them to you in someplace with witnesses." He reached into the bag and popped one in his mouth. He levitated a few inches off the ground, with a smile. I sat next to him, took one, and ate it. I floated next to him with a smile.
"Um…thanks, Weasley." I mumbled. "But…why are you being nice."
"I was incredibly rude last night." He said simply.
"We've been rude to each other for five years now, Fred. Its okay."
"No it wasn't. I shouldn't have assumed those things. I don't know you well enough to." I shrugged, unsure of what to say. I had never been good at this kinda thing. "Why do you put up that act?"
"What act?"
"The Slytherin Act." I popped another candy in my mouth, taking a moment to think.
"Because, its be their Queen or been alone." I mumbled. "Its put on an act and have fake friends, or be myself and have no one."
"I don't think that's true."
"And you'd be right, if I were in any other house." I sighed, "Slytherin is different than the other houses. There's less individually. We have a few leaders, the Slytherin Royalty, and the rest of merely followers. No one goes against the status quo. Doing so is just asking to be outcast. So I became the ideal Slytherin. I used my father's pureblood name, I turned up my nose at everyone else. I acted like I was better than everyone. And in return they revered me. I was dangerous. I was Sirius Black's Daughter. All of Slytherin's Royalty are the children of Death Eaters, so I played along."
"That's stupid."
"Tell me about it. Y'know my dad wasn't even a Death Eater?" I said, looking up at the moon with a bemused half-smile. "He was convicted of it, but they never found The Dark Mark on him, or any connections to known or suspected Death Eaters other than family ties. But he was disowned so he hadn't spoken to them for years."
"What about your mum? The one your such a disappointment to." So he had listened to me last night.
"Gryffindor, Blood Traitor though and though. She tried to convince me to use her surname when I came to Hogwarts…but looking back on it, that wouldn't have been a good idea. 'Potter' is a dirty word in Slytherin house."
"Potter?" He looked at me. "Like, Harry Potter?"
"Exactly. My mum was James Potter's half sister. She shagged her brother's best mate and ended up knocked up at 17, so neither side of my family was particularly happy when I was born." She sighed, "I guess I've always been a disappointment."
"You don't seem like someone to be disappointed in. My mum and dad would be overjoyed for a daughter like you," He said, absentmindedly eating another candy. "You've got top marks, your fast on your feet both physically and mentally, you're a prefect, and your pretty. I see nothing to be disappointed in."
"Thanks, Weasley, that actually means something from you," I said with a sigh as I looked up at the clock tower. "Its time to get back to your dorm." I got up and dusted off the back of my skirt.
"Night, Potter." He called, walking off.
I believed I would regret talking to him. But I didn't. We kept having our witty insult contests, but they became more light hearted between the two of us, and we eventually started exchanging letters during Christmas break. It made everything bearable again. His letters made me smile and forget my fake identity of the Perfect Slytherin, and the investigation into my family to try and find my father. When break was over we began meeting in the Clock Tower courtyard, or by the Fizzing Whizzbees in Honeydukes during Hogsmeade weekends so we could talk. George seemed to remain in the dark about it. I wonder how he would have taken our friendship back then? Would it have been harder to bear? I guess it doesn't matter now.
We continued like this until the summer between sixth and seventh year. Voldemort had just returned and Dumbledore was reforming the Order of the Phoenix. My father had offered his ancestral home as a headquarters and mum was one of the first to join. This meant I got to spend a summer living with my father, whom I had yet to become particularly fond of.
I was standing in the hallway, looking at my third piercing. I had chosen to have a ruby and gold stud put in my cartilage. Gryffindor colors, but if anyone asked I would deny any connection. Mum wasn't fond of my piercing, but I liked them. I had a small snake that slithered, an emerald and silver stud on my lob. They were cute. The door opened front door opened, and I looked over at the people entering HQ. A family of redheads filed in. I fought down a smile when I saw Fred, standing next to his younger sister, helping her carry her bags.
"What's she doing here!" exclaimed George, pointing at me in shock.
"This is my house, git," I said, looking at him. "Now don't yell or the painting will start-"
"Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth!…" The curtains around grandmother's painting flew open, and she started her typical rant about mud bloods and blood traitors defiling the house of her forefathers.
"Shut up, you damn old bitch!" I yelled, stomping over, and shutting the curtains. "Ignore Grandmother. She's a cranky old purist bitch." I mumbled, looking at the Weasley family. "The painting's kinda charmed on there, so we can't get it down. Um…Mum and Dad are in the kitchen…" I smiled at them, trying to seem like a good girl as I gestured toward the kitchen down. I lead them down there. My mum was fiddling with the tea pot. She was never good at any kind of house work. I would have starved as a child if not for Uncle Remus' knowing how to cook. "Mum, some Order members are here." I said, taking the pot from her, turning on the stove and setting the water filled pot on it.
"You must be Molly and Author Weasley," Mum held out her hand. "I'm Grace-Ann, welcome to our home." She looked at me. "Nikolyn, why don't you show their kids to their rooms?"
"I would if I knew which rooms were usable in this crap-sty." I mumbled.
"All the rooms on the same floor as yours are usable, Nikolyn," sighed Mum, giving me a 'don't start with that attitude' look. I sighed, and took the four Weasley children upstairs.
"Your whole damn family is a ray of sunshine, ain't it, Black?" said George.
"So…Nikki is short for Nikolyn, huh?" asked Fred. "I always thought it was Nicole."
"It scares me that you've wasted brain cells on trying to figure out what 'Nikki' is short for," I opened a door. "You can sleep here." I said to their sister. "It's the best of the free rooms." I motioned to the one next to it, and looked at the twins' brother. "And this one'll can be yours." I turned my back on them, and walked down the hall, to my room.
"What about us?" asked Fred.
"Do we sleep in the hall?"
"Well, there are two more rooms on this floor, and this one is mine. That leaves one last room. You can sleep there, or you can sleep in the hall…but let me warn you, our house elf is freaking insane." I opened my door. "He tried to kill me in my sleep the other week, and I'm one of his owners." I walked into my room, and laid down on my bed. Part of me was overjoyed to have Fred here. Another part wanted to throttle him. I sighed and pulled a pillow over my head. Summer was going to be long.
We began a prank war from the boredom of being locked in the house all day. I woke up one more with black spots, and spent the whole day telling my mum and dad that I thought it looked good and that I was going to get black spots tattooed all over my body. It nearly gave them a heart attack. The next morning Fred and George and vibrate, hot pink hair. They told their parents they felt like a change and had been inspired by my cousin Tonks' hair. This continued until Mrs. Weasley decided we would be spending our whole summer cleaning up the house. By the third day of cleaning duty, the twins and I had formed a truce so we could conspiring against Kreacher together. Useless house elf. Harry Potter arrived at HQ and everyone was overjoyed to see him. I could care less. Who cared if he was my cousin or the Boy Who Lived? I'd never said a word to the boy and didn't intend to.
"So, I've been wondering," I wasn't exactly sure when Fred had come into my room, or why he felt he could lounge on my bed like he owned the place. "Does Harry even know you're his cousin?"
"Not as far as I'm aware. Dumbledore doesn't want him knowing about mum until he's 17," I looked up from my summer assignment. "He knows that Harry would jump at the chance to leave his muggle family, so he told mum its best for him to not know about me or mum until he was 17, since the blood magic would have worn off then and he wouldn't need to stay there anymore anyways."
"That sucks. I mean, he's stuck in this house with his two last wizarding relatives and he can't even know." I shrugged.
"Whether or not Harry Potter knows we're his family isn't of the two priority right not. If anything, its dangerous for him to know. We'd just be targets for Voldemort to use to get to him if he got close to us." I stood up. "Now, why are you in my room, Fred?"
"Well, we're gonna be going to Diagon Alley soon to buy school supplies." He said, sitting up, "And I was wondering if you wanted to sneak on an spend some time together?"
"Are you asking me out?"
"More or less, yes."
"No." I swatted his shoulder gently, "Now, outa my room."
"You've broken my heart, Nikolyn!" He clutched his heart dramatically, and walked out of the room. I sighed and smiled. Fred Weasley fancying the Slytherin Queen? What a cosmic joke.
And I fancy Fred too. I wouldn't admit it out loud ever. I never once told said I fancied him, or that I loved him. I said 'I hate you' more than anything. But he was always there. And he became persistent. He asked me to go out with him every Hogsmeade weekend. I always said no, and glared at him. I want to like him, and figured that the feelings would leave after awhile. Then my dad died.
I was never a good daughter to him. It was more of I didn't know how to handle having a dad than I hated him by time I was 17. But he did his best and…he was proud of me. I wasn't a disappointment to him like I was to mum. He ruffled my hair and congratulated me on being Head Girl, and he'd said being a Slytherin made me smarter than him or my mother, said it meant I thought my action through rather than acting impulsively. I'd never acted on impulse, not until the night dad died.
I left Hogwarts after I took my Newts. I just need top marks on those to get into law school, and I didn't want to even deal with Umbridge anymore. Toad-Bitch. And when the Order had been made aware of the Battle in The Department of Mysteries, I had gone. It was my first mission as a full member of the Order, and I intended to kick some ass. Then I saw Dad fall threw the Veil…I saw him disappear…and I knew he was gone. Harry went after his killer. I stood there dumbly, staring up at the Veil.
"Daddy…" I whispered quietly, looking down. I didn't want to be there anymore.
I apparited to the one place I could think of. The Burrow. I had only been once, with Mrs. Weasley to pick up some things she need at HQ. It was late, but I figured that they were awake. Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were probably dealing with there youngest two children. I reached up and knocked on the door. It opened a few moments later to a fully awake Fred. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck before he could say a word.
"Nikki?" He whispered, wrapping his arms around me.
"Fred…" I whispered.
He held me at arms length. "What's wrong?"
"Everything…" He leaned forward and kissed my head.
"Come inside. I'll make you some coco and you can change into some comfortable clothes, and you can forget about everything until things start being right." He took my head and lead me inside. With a flick of his want, some appliances in the kitchen began the process of making hot coco, and with another flick a baggy Chudley Cauldron's shirt and a baggy pair of red sweats flew down the stairs. Fred handed them to me and motioned to a door. "You can change in there." I walked in there and changed, spending extra time neatly folding my cloths and getting the draw string on the pants pull so that fit just right.
"Thank you, Fred," I mumbled, walking in and sitting at the table. He set a cup of coco in front of me.
"What're friends for?" He smiled and sat next to me, taking my hand. I sipped my coco and looked at him.
"Do you still fancy me?" I asked. I was going to do something stupid tonight. I was going to forget everything, just like he told me to.
"I love you, Nikolyn Black." I moved into his lap and kissed him. He wasn't taken aback, nor did he hesitate. He kissed back, pulling me close.
I spent several hours of that night, naked on his family kitchen table. He was kind and gentle, and if he knew I was using him instead of mourning, he didn't show it. Not that I wasn't just using him. If that was it I had other boys I could go to. I was the Slytherin Queen. I wanted him to be the one to comfort me.
I was just pulling the red pants back on when his parents came into the kitchen. I hunched my shoulders a little bit to hid the marks he had left. Mrs. Weasley patter my shoulder. "Your mum was looking for you. She's worried sick, poor dear. She's scared she's lost you and Sirius." I looked a little shocked. "You should head to headquarters." I looked at Fred. His face was unreadable.
"I'll be leaving then…" I mumbled, not taking my eyes off of him. "Fred…" my voice cracked a little. He looked at me and smiled.
"Everything will be alright, Nikki." He whispered, leaning forward and kissing my cheek. "Go home and give your mum some peace of mind. I'll wait for you." Why did it seem like his words had a double meaning?
Mum died in the war too. So did my dear godfather, and my beloved cousin. When I saw their bodies, I felt a pang inside, but the thought of Fred's arms around me comfortingly had gotten me threw. For two years I had used him to deal with the stress of the war, of law school, of life. I'd never let him know how I felt. I'd never let him know I loved him. That I wanted to spend forever with him. I was going to tonight…before the battle began. I was going to tell him how much I loved him. And I was going to tell him I was pregnant. Then we got word of the battle, and I acted on impulse for the second time in my live. I fought, and I survived. As far as I could tell the little one inside of me was fine…but Fred was gone. I was lone. I had no where to go.
I felt the tears threatening to fall.
"Are you okay…?" The voice was familiar. That's all that mattered. I threw my arms around the person, not even bothering to look at who it was, and cried. They awkward wrapped arms around me and patted my back.
I never told him how much I loved him...that would always be my biggest regret.