Chapter Eight: The Northern Wind
Sierra
Sierra, Ginger, Alessandro and Iseult were sitting comfortably in the common room the next afternoon while James gazed longingly at them from an armchair appropriately distanced from the group. Remus, Sirius and Peter were nowhere to be seen. Iseult and Alessandro were playing possibly their seventh consecutive game of wizards chess (Alessandro was determined to win), Sierra was reading a book about song charms while Ginger was reading a quiz in one of those trashy muggle-teen magazines called 'Skip'. Every now and then she would call out one of the more amusing questions for the others to answer.
"Ok, here's one. 'Would you feel strange dating someone with the same name as a family member?'"
"I would definitely feel strange dating someone called 'Dad'" said Iseult "Check, by the way."
"Argh! I don't have any moves!"
"Move your bishop," pointed out Sierra. "That puts you in check with Iseult."
"Bugger." Said Iseult absently.
"Ok, you guys 'Have you ever been drunk?' Well? Have any of you been drunk?"
"No," said Iseult
"Yes," said Sierra
Everyone turned and stared at Sierra.
"Are you serious?" said Alessandro
"Yes," said Sierra calmly "I got drunk at Justin's 18th last year. He seemed to think it was funny to get me absolutely pissed."
"Exactly how drunk did you get Sierra?" said Iseult, highly amused. She couldn't really imagine Sierra drunk.
"Very. I do believe I puked on Justin though. Danielle was pleased. She was so angry with him..." she was cut off by a voice behind her.
"I don't believe this, Sierra Rehine has been drunk?"
Iseult rolled her eyes,
"It's not that hard to believe. Some people can actually have manners even when intoxicated."
From the look on James' face he didn't know what intoxicated meant.
"It means drunk." Sierra pointed out
"Oh," said James "I knew that."
"No you didn't!" laughed Ginger. "You looked so lost! Admit it, you had no idea what the hell Iseult was going on about."
"No. You can't make me." said James defiantly, reminding Sierra intensely of Justin.
"You're right we can't," said Iseult. "But we can ignore you."
She turned back to Alessandro.
"Checkmate"
"No," said Sierra "He can still move diagonally."
"Yay!" said Alessandro happily."
"Checkmate." Repeated Iseult, moving again.
Alessandro looked to Sierra for help, she shrugged.
"Nothing you can do. She's got you backed into the corner."
"Dammit!" said Alessandro "Re-match! I demand a re-match!"
Ginger sighed,
"That'll be what? The seventh re-match you've had Aless?"
"Eighth." Said Sierra vaguely; she had begun to read her book again. She felt someone look over her shoulder. Turning around she smacked into the face that had been peering over her shoulder.
"Ouch! That hurt!"
"Serves you right!" said Sierra, rubbing her cheek "Shouldn't have been there in the first place."
Sirius sat down beside her. She shuffled along a bit so they were farther away. He looked momentarily hurt but covered it up.
"So what's happening over here anyway James?" he said brightly
"Sierra was just telling us how she got drunk at someone called Justin's 18th birthday party." Said James, equally as brightly.
Iseult sighed loudly.
"Sierra was not telling you anything. So just piss off..."
"Who's Justin?" Sirius interrupted loudly.
"Wouldn't you like to know." Said Sierra, winking at him.
Ginger tried to hold back a laugh.
"Justin is Sierra's 19 year old fiancée."
"Really!?" said James excitedly.
"You're kidding right?" said Sirius worriedly
Sierra rolled her eyes.
"Yes! She's kidding. God you're gullible."
"Am not!" said Sirius and James together
"You are" pointed out Iseult, "You believed Ginger for a moment there."
"Only for a moment," Sirius pouted, he then turned to Sierra and grinned "So how are you this fine day."
"Just fine." Said Sierra. "Now if you'll excuse us."
She turned back to her book and started reading again. Iseult and Alessandro were already well into their eighth game, and Ginger was scanning the quiz for more questions.
"If you had any other name in the world, what would it be?"
"James." Said Sirius immediately.
"Sirius, then maybe the teachers would think I'm serious for once."
Iseult rolled her eyes. Sierra gave a laugh which quickly turned into a hacking cough.
"What about you Ginger?"
"I'd honestly prefer any name apart from the one I have now. I mean, come on. A red-head called Ginger? That's like calling a cat 'Mouse'."
"I know someone who called their cat mouse," Alessandro added, pondering what to move next "Her name was Elisabeth."
"That's nice to know." Said James, rolling his eyes.
"But why did your parents call you Ginger in the first place then?"
"Well, you see, it wasn't exactly obvious that I was going to have red hair. I was bald as a baby and absolutely none of my family members have red hair. Oh, and my grandma gave me this bothersome name." She made a face and poked her tongue out. Everyone laughed.
"But what I don't see, is how I got this hair in the first place," continued Ginger "I mean, everyone goes on about how I have my mother's eyes, my fathers nose, my grandma's chin, yadda yadda yadda."
"I've got my fathers hair!" James interrupted brightly. Sirius whacked him to get him to shut up. It worked. Sierra snorted. Sirius grinned at making Sierra laugh. Iseult rolled her eyes and chucked a pawn at Sierra. Alessandro commented vaguely,
"Elisabeth was really nice. She was kind of a family friend."
"Have you been listening at all Alessandro?" said Ginger exasperatedly.
"What?" said Alessandro.
"Oh never mind!" said Iseult rolling her eyes. Ginger had gone back to the quiz.
"'Do you have a nick name?'"
"Yes," said Sierra, Alessandro, Sirius and James
"No," said Iseult
"What's your nickname Alessandro?" asked Sierra
"Aless, you knew that already. Yours?"
"Si. Just by family though. What about you two?" Sierra continued looking at James and Sirius.
They looked at each other proudly.
"Well, Sirius is Padfoot, and I'm Prongs."
Ginger looked at them in disbelief.
"How the hell did you get those?"
"Aaah, that's for us to know and you to, well, not." Said Sirius.
"You're hiding something." Pointed out Iseult
"No we're not." Said James innocently.
Sierra sighed and picked up her books. "I don't think I really care anyway."
She turned and climbed up the stairs to the common room, Iseult following her – much to Alessandro's protests. Sierra frowned to herself. The conversation had been a good one and she almost thought, just for a second, that she might have seen the human side of Sirius Black.
Iseult
Iseult lay awake on her bed. The grandfather clock in the entrance hallway, only barely audible from the tower, had just chimed twelve. She could see storm-flung rain out the window, making no sound on the stone-silenced slate roof. But the wind howled. Like a nervous siren, rising and falling in tone. It flew between the turrets of the castle, making it's presence known with a loud clatter as a slate fell from the girls' tower onto Sierra's windowsill. Not colours, but the noises of the bleak wind haunted the castle's inhabitants that night, as even those few who were still now asleep felt the cold of the icy northern storm seep through the castle stones, and they dreamt of nothing but a malevolent winter approaching the castle. High spirits nested by the festivities of the previous night disappeared into a chilling mist. Iseult, her ears full of screaming noise and head empty of anything but shadow, had never felt so cold, so worthless and so very unloved in her life. As a figure stepped into her line of vision, arm outstretched, the only thought in Iseult's head was, "I mustn't scream. Its only death."
"Iseult? Iseult get up!" said death.
That's not death.
"Come on, McGonagall's downstairs."
That's...
"Trin!" Iseult cried, blinking her eyes to make them confirm what she heard. Trinity smiled nervously.
"Come on!"
Iseult sat up slowly, slothfully. At the bed next to her Ginger was shaking Sierra awake.
"I'm alive..." Sierra groaned as Ginger hauled her into sitting position. Outside the wind echoed her, persistently thrashing rain against the window every few moments. The chilled sensation in Iseult's gut, which had slowly started to thaw when Trinity had arrived, returned with new gusto.
"Grab something warm."
Ginger ran her fingers through her bed-messed hair and glanced anxiously at the dark, wet window. She and Trinity glanced at each other, and shared a look of uneasiness.
Iseult looked at them for a moment, still too dazed from tiredness to comprehend much except for the overwhelming cold. Slipping a robe on, she turned to see two shapes, each holding a lantern, stepping in the door. Ginger hurried up to meet them, and as they stepped inside, each holding a lantern high, Iseult saw the drained faces of Sirius and Alessandro. She tried to smile, but couldn't.
"Yeah, its from the North." Sirius whispered to Ginger, flashing sideways glances at Sierra. His voice was full of concern, but his eyes lacked feeling. They reminded Iseult of hollow stones.
"She's OK," Ginger remarked hurriedly to Sirius who had been looking at Sierra. "Does McGonagall want us?"
"Yeah, now. She's got chocolate, and the fire's warming up." Said Sirius, pushing past Ginger and Iseult and moving towards Trinity. Ginger sighed in relief and Iseult wondered why Ginger would look so grateful for chocolate, unless...Dementors?
Ginger and Alessandro were now conversing quickly, and Iseult heard Sierra and her names mentioned more than once.
"They've never been in this before...
"It wasn't as bad as this last time..."
Iseult, who was starting to collect herself, interrupted loudly,
"Are there Dementors? Here, I mean?"
Ginger just sighed.
"Yeah. You could say that."
Sirius, who had been helping Trinity wake up the shaken Sierra, left his charge and beckoned Iseult over to the window, with a dismissing wave at the others who put out their hands to stop him.
"She can cope."
He waited until Iseult was beside him at the windowsill, and whispered sadly in her ear.
"Listen to the wind. Listen real carefully."
Iseult had been listening to the wind all night, but she put her hand to the glass of the window and listened. Her ears absorbed and interpreted the sound now that she was making an effort to listen, and what she heard... Only Sirius's carved hand on her back stopped her from collapsing.
There were voices in the wind. Screams, Wails, Shrieks. A thousand pained voices from A thousand pairs of torn lungs poured their sorrows into her heart through the cruel wind. And every now and then, a different sound would pierce the fabric of this sorrowful cry. A low whoop, a cross between the cry of a seagull and the bark of a dog, mixed with a harsh sucking sound.
Iseult fell back, but Sirius had been expecting it, and caught her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and propped her up against him.
"Death..." Iseult whispered aloud, but Sirius shook her slightly, preventing her from lapsing backwards into another trance-like dream. He slapped her face gently with his free hand, bringing colour back into her cheeks.
"No, Iseult, it isn't...Can you hear me Iseult?"
"Mmm..."
"Its not, is it? Its just...just..."
"Fear..." she whispered.
"Yes." He said, relieved. (James would have no reason to throttle him after all.) Sirius sighed sadly and brushed the messed hair out of Iseult's eyes.
"That was the wind of Azkaban, Iseult."
After a team effort to bundle up Sierra, who was now fully awake and trying to tell everyone they were being silly, that she had just had a bad dream, the pack of Gryffindors hurried downstairs to the common room, where Professor McGonagall and the prefects were trying to control the wailing first-years, apparently by giving them chocolate, which helped enormously. Everyone over second year seemed much calmer, and Alessandro explained that the same thing had happened last year.
"What is going on?" Sierra demanded, obviously more shaken than she was admitting to be, as she looked around nervously in the direction of the windows. Professor McGonagall, as if in answer, rapped her knuckles on a table, and the girls drifted over to the group of students in their pyjamas who were gathering around their head of house hesitantly.
"Now, Gryffindors. Most of you, even those who were here last time something like this happened, will not have been told...what is happening." The teacher's face, usually stern and barely lined, was tonight aged, and she looked like an old woman.
"The truth is, for some unknown reason, one which the headmaster is very busy trying to discover, the summer storms, natural at this time of year, have come directly from the prison of Azkaban, and the headmaster believes that the unusual effects that most of you will be feeling, are related to the inhabitants, both jailed and jailers, of the prison."
A deep sigh of "Ohh..." echoed around the room.
McGonagall continued,
"Apart from feeling very fond of leading a law-abiding life, most of you will not be feeling up to working tomorrow. Therefore, the headmaster has declared that classes will not start until Tuesday, with a day of Rest tomorrow, especially for yourselves, as, being high up, Gryffindor tower seemed to have got the worst effects of...The Azkaban Wind."
Silence followed. Everyone was too miserable or occupied with someone who was too miserable, to show great enthusiasm.
"I think, that it may be best if you all go off to bed now and...ignore the wind? I'm sure that it will be dying down now."
Groaning reverberated around the room. Beside Iseult, Sierra huffed and sank down to the floor. In vain, Iseult tried to cheer her up.
"At least we're off again tomorrow. Sierra? Sierra?" Sierra had slumped herself on the floor, half asleep. Iseult tossed her hair angrily and restrained herself from kicking Sierra's dormant arse. To break her back dragging Sierra up a flight of stairs was about the last thing she needed, after having just been told that criminals and their unearthly guards, the infamous Dementors, she suspected, (who every wizard child would have grown up having nightmares about) were embodied in the wind sweeping around her castle. Now that she was away from the wide windows of the dormitory she was comforted a little. All together, she was a tad...no, more than a tad, pissed off by everything that was happening, and decided to do something that would piss off Sierra if she knew.
"Sirius!" Iseult called angrily, wanting to get back up to bed so she could attempt to get some sleep. Sirius strolled over looking troubled and leaving James and Peter in a heated argument with McGonagall. Remus Lupin was for some reason, missing.
"Yes?" said Sirius. Iseult looked up from Sierra (Sirius had nearly stepped on her head). His grey eyes had become dark and steely, completely devoid of the mischievous spark that Iseult had become used to seeing in them. There was a slightly deadened look in them that unnerved Iseult, apparently the wind was affecting everyone that night.
"Will you carry Sierra up to her bed, please? I'm really tired and just can't manage at the moment. Would you do that...for Sierra?" Iseult stammered, looking down at her friend again. He nodded and gracefully scooped up Sierra, holding her against him. He turned to move towards the staircase but Iseult stopped him.
"Where's Re-"
"Not here." He cut her off shortly, giving her a dark look. She dropped the topic. Sirius wasn't himself tonight and she wasn't sure that she wanted to get on the wrong side of him right now.
'Maybe I ought to go up with them? Just to make sure that…'
Suddenly, a loud crash and shout was heard from the bottom of the staircase.
Oh dear. Too late. Poor Sirius.
Iseult heard a familiar voice booming out her (slightly unjustified) anger on Sirius.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?"
"TAKING YOU UPSTAIRS" Sirius yelled back. Iseult winced.
"PUT ME DOWN!"
(clunk)
(slap)
"SIERRA!"
Everybody in the room was listening now, even McGonagall, who looked fairly smug, obviously happy that Sirius was finally getting bitch-slapped. Iseult could just imagine what half of Gryffindor would be taunting Sirius about for the rest of the week-
"Shame, Sirius! Beaten up by a GIRL!"
Another series of clunks came as Sierra stomped towards Iseult in combat boots. Sirius's combat boots. Iseult looked down at them blankly.
"My feet were cold." Sierra stated coldly. "Do you want to head back up to bed? I'm bloody tired and James just told me that the wind's pretty much died down.
"Sure..." Iseult avoided Sierra's eyes. She had the same dark look Sirius had. "When did you start talking to James?" she asked the sofa.
Sierra shrugged. "When did you start talking to Sirius?"
They both swept up the stairs, Iseult casting an apologetic look at Sirius, who was hunched in an armchair nearby, twirling a drink and staring blankly ahead of him. He was surrounded by a group of boys, clearly waiting until Sierra left so that they could torment him. Iseult didn't like their chances.
Ginger and Trin had been in bed for a few minutes, so Iseult hastily climbed into hers and blew out her bedside lamp. She lay awake for the second time this night, but this time, in guilty thought.
'I hope Sierra really means she doesn't like Sirius.'
AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter here is especially for KiraKakes, who made the effort to find out what theatresports is. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did editing it.
DISCLAIMER: Turns out I do own the pen. I don't own the characters, or the idea for Harry Potter though… Bugger. I'd much rather have them than the pen.
