Scratches

It was the last day of June and Jillian sat in the breakfast table next to Peter, trying to eat, but not succeeding very well. The sun was shining beautifully and the younger students chattered happily, but in each of the four tables sat a group of silent, glum seventh-yearers.

"So this is it. The end", Cora muttered from where she was sitting, opposite to Jillian and looking uncomfortable with the boys – Remus, Peter and Sirius, as James and Lily were somewhere spending quality time together – beside her. She held her glass like it could save a life. "Seven years and now the real life is waiting for us."

"It won't be that bad", Jillian objected. "New experiences, friends –"

"Bills, taxes and Death Eaters", Peter finished with funny, almost bitter voice. "Yes, it will be quite lovely, like a picnic."

Jillian frowned a little – Peter had been little odd lately, but perhaps she was just imagining things. It was not like they spent every minute together and were best friends. "Well, I'm going to look to the brighter side of things", she said. "Dad has bought an apartment for me so I can move out from home."

Peter rolled his eyes. "And you still have nerve to say you're not spoiled?"

"I'm not spoiled!" Jillian cried out and dropped the sandwich from her hand, since it was obvious she couldn't eat it. "I'm just... Daddy's girl." She looked around pleadingly. "Can't we change the subject now, please?"

James and Lily arrived then, looking just as mopey as every other of their class mates did. James sat to Jillian's other side, grabbed two glasses and poured some pumpkin juice first to Lily and then to himself.

"I hate when things change", he said to no one especially, few wrinkles on his forehead.

"It will be odd to never come back here again", Remus nodded.

"Don't say never, dear. You can't know yet what will happen in your life", Lily advised, and everyone saw how Sirius fought a long and fierce battle with himself before suppressing the urge to say that if anyone knew that, that would be Lily.

James gave in a little bit. "These seven years have been great."

"Yes", Sirius agreed. "What a journey."

Peter just smiled and looked at the table's wooden surface.


A week later Jillian had moved in to her new apartment, and had found a new love of her life. Sure, it was only a house, but that couldn't stop her from wandering around from room to another, eyes sparkling, little Tyler on her hip. His bedroom needed a little bit of painting – and new curtains to the kitchen had to be bought – and new carpets to every room – and new chairs, plates, and... Well, she would think of something more to buy as soon as she had bought these things.

When she had decorated and spent enough of her father's money, she allowed guests to come and see her little heaven. Lily and James (now happily engaged – just imagine the look on their friends' faces when they told their happy news), Cora, Remus, Peter, Sirius, her family (and especially Reed, who kept on muttering how his apartment was smaller and older and how Jillian had always been Father's pet) – and yes, finally also Regulus came.

It was so different to be with him there, in her own home, instead of sneaking around Hogwarts like a pair of thieves. There was no need to worry about some curious first-year coming around the corner any second, no need to think of teachers and rules and curfew. Tyler was of course a little interrupter, and he had grown to like Regulus so terribly much that Jillian was afraid he would some day mention "Reguulu" (as he preferred to call Regulus) in front of Sirius.

She knew that Regulus was drowning deeper and deeper to his Death Eater's business. She could only try to guess all the things he had already done for them, and her guesses scared her. Sometimes she thought he was scared too, didn't really want to continue doing all that.

But leaving You-Know-Who's troops didn't sound so easy, and as Jillian pressed her cheek against his upper arm, ruined with a black, ugly tattoo, she hoped he would go and ask Dumbledore to help him.


Their summer could have been peaceful, if only they did not have to worry about You-Know-Who and his followers and (worst of them all) James and Sirius. She was sure that one night she had seen someone standing outside her apartment, waiting for something or someone. That had not been Regulus, because he had told he would not come that night, and Jillian did not want to think of the possibility of someone else in You-Know-Who's little gang knowing where she lived.

So she thought it was Sirius. She certainly hoped it was Sirius rather than someone from the 'wrong' side. But then again, she would have rather faced seventeen fully armed Death Eaters and their Master than one single James, who knew about her little -- secret.

There were times when she actually thought that James knew – something in his eyes or the way he stood or how he didn't tell his secrets to Jillian anymore – but most of the time she managed to assure herself that she was only imagining things, probably because she felt so guilty about keeping things from James. What she couldn't paint away with rationality was that the others were different too. Or rather, Peter, Remus, Lily and Sirius were, Cora was still acting like she used to had. Jillian couldn't quite explain what had happened to all of them, just that the air around them had changed.

Last day of August Regulus came to say goodbyes, for he was going to Hogwarts to his last year. It was little odd for Jillian to think that Regulus would be there – and many other people she had talked, walked and spoke with – and brand new students who would never even know that Jillian had once been there. New set of Gryffindor girls who would eat under the wonderful ceiling, learn and spend their time in the Gryffindor common room.

After Regulus left Jillian found herself wondering had she really been worth of her house, brave and loyal like a Gryffindor should be. She sat down and hugged herself, eyes closed and feeling so cold and lonely. No, se hadn't been.

She did not have any idea that Regulus was also thinking the same thing about himself while he surveyed the black Mark in his arm.