Keep mixing, and put your arm into it. We'll be here all day at this rate.
I'd be done by now if you'd let me use my wand.
There's pleasure in doing things the muggle way, love. Besides, it's a good lesson in patience.
Evie looked very much like she did on the day Mae taught her how to bake. Sleeves rolled up to her elbows, eyebrows drawn together in a frown of concentration. Splodges of flour covered her face, arms and clothes. That lesson with her aunt had been the first of many, but it was the one that stuck out most clearly in her mind. Now, as she measured, mixed and poured, Mae's voice floated through her head, offering advice and criticism.
Behind her, cluttering the table, were several plates of food. Cake, bread, crumpets, scones; everything had been made by Evie and judged by her to be passable. Anything she found the slightest flaw in was quickly dispatched with a flick of her wand.
Although she'd been at work for hours, the sun was still rising and the other two inhabitants of Grimmauld Place had only just woken. The dark circles under her eyes and the rather haggard expression she wore attested that she'd had little sleep lately. Just getting to sleep was difficult, but when she did manage to doze off she was plagued by nightmares. Sometimes she saw the lifeless corpses of her aunt and uncle; other times she saw the leering face of the Death Eater as he raised his wand to torture her.
Her fingers, made clumsy by weariness, fumbled the lump of dough she was shaping. It slipped out of her grasp and fell to the grubby stone floor. For a moment she stood staring at the ruined mixture, filled with inexplicable anger and despair. Since the morning after her return to Grimmauld Place she hadn't cried for Mae and Aaron, and now she found tears prickling her eyes because of dough.
She pointed her wand at the now useless lump and it disappeared. Moving slowly, she collected the ingredients she would need to make more and began to measure them out. As she worked, she didn't try to prevent the tears that slid slowly down her cheeks.
Chin up, gal, Aaron murmured in her mind. It'll turn out right in the end.
Sirius leaned against the wall, peering through a crack in the kitchen door. He was biting his lip anxiously, something he hadn't done since his days at Hogwarts. His eyes followed Evie as she continued her frantic baking. As she turned, he caught a glimpse of her face, the shining tear tracks, and let out a sigh.
"Is she still at it?" Remus murmured, coming to stand at Sirius's side. He nodded and Remus echoed his sigh of a few moments before. "What are we going to do?"
Sirius shrugged, feeling helpless. "There's not much we can do."
"How would you know?" There was sudden bitterness in Remus's voice. "You haven't even tried."
Turning to face him, Sirius frowned. "What are you talking about? Of course I've-"
"No you haven't," Remus kept his voice quiet so as not to alert Evie to their presence, but the anger in it was unmistakable. "For the past week you've hardly said two words to her."
Shame rose in Sirius's throat and threatened to choke him. "I've been – I didn't mean – It's for her own good!"
"For her own good," Remus repeated quietly. "How is this possibly helping her?"
"You don't understand! You don't know everything that's happened!"
"It doesn't matter what's happened!" Remus hissed. "Her family has been murdered, her heart's broken and you're treating her like she has dragon pox!"
"I didn't mean to-"
"It doesn't matter what you 'meant' to do. It's what you are doing that's important, and what you're doing is letting down James and Lily's daughter." Sirius fell silent, unable to think of a single argument in his defence. When he'd decided to distance himself from Evie he'd thought he was helping her; but in reality all he'd done was desert her when she needed him the most. Remus spoke again, but this time his voice was much softer. "She needs you, Sirius. I've helped all I can but the Order needs me; I have to leave today."
"What do I do?" Sirius asked hesitantly. "How do I help her?"
"Just talk to her." Remus said, looking pointedly at the kitchen door.
"Now?" Sirius asked "You want me to talk to her now?"
"No time like the present." Remus laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push towards the door. Sirius entered the kitchen hesitantly but made no attempts to back away. As soon as he was inside Remus shut the door. The noise must have alerted Evie because she called out a sleepy good morning, although she didn't look up from whatever she was doing.
"Good morning," Sirius said quietly. Evie started at the sound of his voice, and guilt surged through Sirius that she was surprised he was talking to her. She stole a glance over her shoulder, as if to make sure that it was really him, and then continued kneading a ball of dough. "It looks like you've been busy." He commented, eyeing the food laden table.
Evie shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. I needed something to do."
"Why can't you sleep?"
She gave a non committal jerk of her head and murmured, "Bad dreams."
"About… About that day?"
Her shoulders sagged and she sighed. "Yes. That day. This'll never do," She said abruptly, straightening again and jabbing her wand at the dough. It disappeared, leaving only small trails of flour behind. "It was all wrong. I'll have to start again."
Sirius hurried across the room to stand at her side. Before she could reach out for any new ingredients he wrapped his fingers around her slender wrist, preventing it from moving. She looked up at him quizzically. "You need to eat and sleep," He explained. "You can carry on with all this later," Evie tried to pull away but he tightened his grip. When she winced at the pain this caused he hastily loosened his hold, but didn't relinquish it. "Please, Evie," He said, almost pleading. "You need to rest."
"Why?" She whispered.
"Because you're running yourself down with all this-"
"No," She interrupted. "Why do you care?" Sirius was shocked into silence. When Remus had come close to accusing him of not caring about Evie there had been bitterness and anger in his voice. In Evie's he could only hear sadness and a bone deep weariness that no one of her years should know. It worried him, perhaps as much as her apparent conviction that she meant so little to him. When he remained silent Evie continued, and now there was an edge of desperation in her voice. "Have I done something to make you angry? Was it going off on my own? Was it getting captured? I don't under-"
Evie's voice turned into a squeak as Sirius pulled her into a bone crushing hug. Like kissing her, it was another one of those things he hadn't meant to do. He'd gone to her with the intention of talking only, of perhaps persuading her to get some much needed rest; but then she'd opened her mouth and the worry and fears of the past week came tumbling out. He knew he was responsible for at least some of them, and he was doing the first thing that came to mind to go some way to assuaging them.
"Running off into danger on your own wasn't a good idea, but I'm not going to pretend that I wouldn't have done it if you or Harry were in trouble. I can't be angry with you for wanting to protect those you love," At first when he wrapped his arms around her she had been tense, but now she began to relax into his hold slightly. "I'm furious about the Death Eater," She stiffened again but he stroked her hair reassuringly. "But I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with the toad slime that hurt you."
A tremor ran through Evie and it wasn't long before Sirius realised that she was crying. He rested his lips against her hair and muttered soothing, meaningless words. Eventually her shudders subsided and she pulled back, wiping her eyes. "Then why have you been ignoring me?" She choked through a final sob.
Sirius sighed. "That was stupid of me. Now isn't the time to explain, but please believe me when I say that it wasn't your fault."
"Why can't you tell me now?"
"It's a long story, and you need sleep. Dumbledore is coming tonight and it's always best to be well rested when he shows up. You never know what he's got in store for you."
Evie shook her head vehemently. "No. I don't want to go to sleep. I keep seeing…" She broke off, another sob rising in her throat.
"I know a thing or two about nightmares myself," He said gently. "Would it help if I was there?"
"Maybe." She said quietly.
"Let's give it a go, then." Sirius slipped an arm around her waist and half led, half carried her to bed.
Later that night, a slightly less melancholy Evie, who had benefited from a few hours of solid sleep, Sirius and Dumbledore were sat once more around the fire in the living room. None of them liked the room; it was one that had gone relatively unscathed by Mrs Weasley's cleaning over the summer, and so still bore many of the signs that it had been lived in by dark wizards. They all preferred the kitchen which, despite all of its stone, had a much cosier feel. However, tonight Dumbledore had insisted they move to the living room.
"Was the book helpful?" Evie asked.
"Indeed it was," Dumbledore said. "Very illuminating. I've drawn some conclusions from it, but they are by no means fact. I'm hoping that you, Evie, will help to confirm my hypotheses."
"Me?" She said, startled. "What can I do?"
"Firstly, we need to fill you in on some important information you may have missed. Sirius, have you told her about her healed wounds?" Sirius shook his head in response and Dumbledore turned his attention back to Evie. "Well, my dear, when you returned to us you were quite damaged. Before any of us had a chance to heal your wounds, they vanished."
"Vanished?" She repeated.
"Healed. By themselves."
"Is that even possible?" She asked.
"Not usually, no. You appear to have been able to heal yourself without even being conscious."
"But that-that's impossible!" She spluttered. "I've never done that before."
"I believe it's a new ability. Inherited from Mae," He said softly. "When you arrived I entered your memories to see if you had been more severely wounded than I knew. I saw something pass between you and Mae at the point of her death. It was almost invisible, no more than a shimmer, but it knocked you unconscious."
"But Mae couldn't… She never…"
"Wasn't Mae an extraordinary healer?" Dumbledore asked, his voice gentle but firm.
"She was a skilled witch and she knew her remedies!" Evie protested. "There's a difference between having a natural affinity for something and this!"
"This is precisely why I need your help. We need to know if my theory has any truth or if it's just the ramblings of an old wizard."
After a long silence, Evie asked hesitantly, "What do you want me to do?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent! I'm going to have to make a cut on your arm-"
"Now hang on," Sirius growled, rising from his seat. He moved over to where Evie sat and placed a protective hand on her shoulder. "You're not hurting her any more than she already has been."
"I'm afraid there's no other way, Sirius."
"You'll just have to think of another-" He broke off as Evie's hand found his. She squeezed it gently and smiled up at him weakly.
"It's alright, really it is. He won't hurt me any more than he needs to." Sirius didn't look at all happy, but after Evie's reassurance he didn't protest further, instead settling for throwing glares at Dumbledore.
"As I was saying," Dumbledore began. "I'll need to make a small cut on your arm. After that I need you to conjure a patronus for me."
"A patronus?" Sirius frowned. "What for?"
"As you can attest, Evie's wounds didn't heal straight away. I believe something happened to make her feel, if not happy, then at least safe, and that began the healing. The patronus requires a very happy memory, so hopefully, if my theory is correct, it will be enough to heal Evie's cut."
Evie rose from her seat and began to roll up the sleeve of her shirt. "I'm ready." She told Dumbledore, who quickly moved to her side. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her arm straight. Murmuring an apology, he brought his wand down in a quick slashing motion. Evie winced as a thin cut ripped across her flesh. Bringing her own wand up, she concentrated with all her might on the happiest memory she could think of. It took a lot longer than usual, but eventually she found something suitable. Feeling the intent gazes of both Dumbledore and Sirius upon her, she cried "Expecto Patronum!" The familiar silver lioness burst from the end of the wand and bounded across the room. It soon faded away because Sirius's cry of surprise broke her concentration. Looking down, she discovered that the cut had disappeared.
Sirius rushed forwards, looking both scared and happy. "This is wonderful!" He cried. "You'll never be hurt again." Dumbledore, on the other hand, collapsed into his chair, a grim expression on his face. Evie knew how he felt; all of the energy had left her body, not from the effort of healing, but from shock.
"I'm afraid you've proved my theory." Dumbledore said wearily.
"You're 'afraid' she's proved it?" Sirius asked incredulously. "It's fantastic!"
"This power has its drawbacks. Evie, would you care to explain the story inside the book to Sirius?"
Slightly surprised by the sudden request, she nevertheless complied. "It's the myth of Demeter, Persephone and Hades. Persephone, Demeter's daughter, is abducted by Hades and brought to the underworld to be his queen. Demeter, who brings the harvests, is so grief stricken at the loss of her daughter that no crops come. The starvation of the people forces Hades to let Persephone return to her mother. But he plays a trick on her that means for half of the year she has to return to the underworld. When Demeter has her daughter the world is bountiful, but when Persephone has to return to Hades it begins to die."
"The book is they key to explaining Evie's power," Dumbledore explained quietly. "That's why Mae was so frantic to make sure Evie had it. As we've seen, when Evie is happy, or feels safe, her power gives life and healing. But it has a flip side. When she is sad, or furious, or perhaps fearing for her life…"
Evie didn't need Dumbledore to finish his sentence. Realisation was dawning. In her mind she saw the Death Eater. The Death Eater who had, without being attacked by any wand or blade, collapsed on top of her, dead.