I do not own Harry Potter.

Trigger warning: grief.

Chapter Thirty Seven

Of course, young gentlemen like Draco Malfoy did not pack their own trunks. However, they did sit in their rooms checking that their foul house elf had done a good job. He had just finished his inspection and was in the process of locking the trunk when his father strode into the room.

Instantly, he jumped to his feet and bowed deeply in his father's direction. Lucius Malfoy inclined his head and Draco stood still, with his hands clasped behind his back, awaiting further instruction.

"I wish to speak to you, Draco."

"I am always at your disposal, father."

"As you should be." Lucius Malfoy began to pace the room. His cane rapped on the floor and Draco eyed it nervously. Logically, Lucius knew that everything was safe, and that Weasley had already uncovered the diary. But in the pit of his stomach was the fear that he had not. He had duties as the Head of his House, and duties as a father, all of which must be fulfilled. He had to protect his son, even if he didn't know what he was protecting him from.

"I believe issues of blood purity may arise in the upcoming school year. Perhaps the mudbloods will learn their place. You are not to get involved."

"But don't you want me to help put the mudblood Granger in her place?"

Lucius's eyes bulged, "Are you speaking out of turn, Draco."

Draco stared at the floor, "No father."

"Good. If an issue should arrive, you will stay out of it."

"Yes father, I will not involve myself."

...

As they were now such near neighbours, the Davis family and the Black family travelled to Kings Cross Station together.

Mr. and Mrs. Davis held Tracey close to them before they allowed her to board the train. "The house always feels so empty when you're at school." Sighed her mother, as she finally let Tracey go.

"It won't be long until Yule, mum, and I'll write you loads of letters again."

Her mother smiled, "Yes, you are a very good correspondent. It makes me feel so young again to be back in the loop with all the Hogwarts gossip."

Mother and daughter chuckled together, before Daphne Greengrass – who had somehow become even prettier over the summer – dragged her towards the train. Astoria Greengrass held her own mother's hand, proclaiming that it wasn't fair that she had to wait another two years before she too could board the train.

Off to one side, Maia, Caroline and Cassiopeia said their goodbyes. Cassiopeia's speech was much the same as last year, although Caroline cried much more than she had last time. None of them pointed out that the extra tears probably resulted from the fact that last time they had had this conversation, there had been a further addition to their party.

For the first time, Maia cried as she parted with her mother and clung to her until the very last second, when the whistle of the train blew.

"I love you so much, mum."

"I love you too."

"You will write, won't you?"

"Of course, all the time."

"And be careful, won't you, mum?"

Caroline nodded, "And you look after yourself as well. Don't go getting into any trouble, Narcissa told be about the antics of some Gryffindors in your year at the end of last term. I don't want you mixing with reckless children like that."

Maia nodded, "I won't mum. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too."

When the train whistle blew again, Cassiopeia dragged Maia across the platform and pushed her onto the train, levitating her trunk in after her. "I'll have no more of this nonsense. You'll be perfectly fine once you get there, now behave yourself. I'm sure Draco's already looking for you."

With that, Cassiopeia turned on her heel, marched back to Caroline, grabbed hold of her and vanished with an almost silent 'pop'.

As usual, Cassiopeia was absolutely correct. Before Maia had collected herself together and turned around, Draco had appeared and tucked his arm into her own and directed Vincent and Gregory to carry her trunk.

"We've got a compartment to ourselves," he said, leading her along the carriage, "and I've told them all that you're to have the choice of the seats." He said, with a commanding incline of his head.

Maia shook her head, "Draco, I don't want special treatment."

"Too bad, you're my favourite cousin and Heir to the House of Black, special treatment is all you're ever going to get."

"Yes, but I don't want it to be because of it."

Draco nodded, "I know, I'm sorry. Think of it this way, there's not a chance that you're going to be anything but the Queen of Slytherin by the time we graduate and you're already the most important girl in our House year group. You ought to boss people around and take their seats."

Before she knew it, a bark-like laugh escaped from her lips.

"That's better." Said Draco, his whole face lighting up. Maia had been far too silent throughout the holidays.

"Well, I always intended to be the Slytherin Princess, but Queen sounds much better, I think."

"Well it's true. You've got the most money, the most significant inheritance, the fastest brain and the quickest tongue, after me, of course."

"That could just as easily be Daphne."

Draco shook his pale head again, "Nope, I've got her pegged as the Ice Queen of Slytherin, breaking every heart she can until she marries the richest of us. Besides, she's not the Heir to the House of Greengrass. Her father isn't even its Head, you know he was the younger son."

Maia smiled at this, though didn't laugh automatically and didn't have it in her to force it out of herself. Sometimes things just seemed to take too much effort, these days.

By this time, they were in sight of the compartment. Just as they reached the door, Draco pointed out, although it was already clearly obvious, that Parkinson and Bulstrode were in the compartment with them. "Although you can evict them if you want." He said, just as Blaise stood and opened the door for them.

It was perfectly clear that the two girls in question had heard him.

However, although she still disliked the girls, this was now tinged with pity and Maia had no intention of fighting with them if she could help it. She was hoping for a quiet year.

She nodded politely at both of them, and asked Tracey if she could move along a bit so that she could sit by the window.

The compartment was more than a little cramped. Maia and Bulstrode had both taken the window seats, whilst Tracey sat on Maia's left, and on her left sat Blaise. Parkinson was next to Bulstrode, whist Daphne was pushed into the corner and did not appear to appreciate the encroachment into her personal space. Vincent and Gregory had seated themselves on the floor after depositing Maia's trunk, which left Draco still standing awkwardly at the door.

He jerked his head. "Come on, you two, let's go find Potty and Weasel."

Whilst it was clearly a childish statement, it did have the advantage of clearing out the compartment a little. Daphne sighed and stretched out her long legs.

Silence hung over the compartment. The obvious conversation starter was, "How were your holidays?" However, although they were only twelve, the children all knew that that was not a good question to ask.

Daphne recovered first, and turned to Blaise. "I saw your mother in McHavelock's new advertising campaign for Harper's Magical Bazaar. She looked simply stunning."

Blaise made a slight bow in acknowledgement of the compliment, "Thank you, Madam McHavelock was also very pleased."

Tracey practically glowed, "Did your mother meet her? What did she say she was like? Her millinery is by far the best outside of Paris."

Parkinson even managed to look sincere as she added, "My mother has a subscription to Harper's Magical Bazaar and the lines Madam McHavelock produced this season were very elegant."

Blaise shifted in his seat nervously, "Madam McHavelock was very nice. She dined with us after the photo shoot. She gave mother a copy of all of her hats from this season, and last season as well, for the extra advertising."

Bulstrode looked highly uninterested, while Maia smiled politely. Daphne, Tracey and Parkinson would have drooled, had such behaviour not been completely improper.

Blaise shifted in his seat again, "I'm sure mother would send you each a hat, if you like."

Blaise seemed highly gratified and extremely embarrassed as the girls spent the next fifteen minutes thanking him. He blushed deeply when Tracey kissed him on the cheek after words failed to convey her delight.

When they had quietened down, he rolled his eyes. "You do know that they're only hats. My father was so bored when Madam McHavelock dined with us, that he-"

A small squeak from the corner of the compartment bought his voice to an abrupt standstill and five pairs of wide eyes turned to stare at Maia in open-mouthed horror.

"Maia, I'm so, so-"

Maia bit her lip and shook her head, "Don't be." Her insides turned uneasily, but she directed her gaze at Bulstrode, "I hear your family spent the summer in Croatia. I've always wanted to visit. What was it like?"

From there they spent the next few hours diligently discussing their favourite holidays, and dream holiday destinations. The train was halfway to Scotland before Draco arrived – flanked by Gregory and Vincent – looking very put out and announced that neither Harry Potter nor Ronald Weasley were on the train...

...

Naturally, this declaration aroused much interest. As the rain hammered against the windows of the train, the Slytherin second years sat huddled together debating what fate could have befallen their Gryffindor year mates.

Pansy Parkinson maintained that they had both failed their first year exams and hadn't made it into second year. She was strongly supported in this by Millicent Bulstrode, of course. Maia ventured to agree that this might be the case with the Weasel, but there was no way that the Boy-Who-Lived would be thrown out of Hogwarts, regardless of his academic failings. Besides, Hermione Granger would have tutored them both. She would probably have allowed them to cheat from her, had they been in real danger of failing.

Daphne and Tracey, both giggling furiously, came to the conclusion that neither of them could tell the time and had simply missed the train. Granger couldn't help them with that if she hadn't been there.

Draco was so busy fuming that he hadn't managed to taunt them yet, that he didn't put an opinion forward, whilst Blaise suggested that Draco had simply missed them. Draco was rather irked about this, as he had spent a number of hours scouring the train for them.

All too soon, the train pulled into the station. The five friends, their two bodyguards and their two tag-a-longs wrapped their cloaks tightly around them and ran towards the waiting horseless carriages. A clap of thunder overhead made Daphne squeal and Parkinson laughed nastily at her, before Draco and Blaise glared her into silence and submission.

Maia, Draco, Blaise, Daphne and Tracey all piled into one carriage, while Vincent, Gregory, Parkinson and Bulstrode waited for the next one. Maia managed to muster a haughty look to throw at Parkinson and Bulstrode before she got took her seat and the carriage pulled away. She didn't want them to think that she had gone soft, although her interest in belittling them waned quickly as they disappeared from view. She really didn't have the energy to deal with them.

"I don't envy the first years." Said Blaise, rubbing his hand over the misted window as the wind wailed ever louder and the rain fell ever harder.

Tracey nodded, "I hope the teachers dry them off when they get there, poor things."

Daphne shook her long, blonde hair, "I hope they don't sit near me if they don't. I've no intention of catching a cold from them."

As the group took their seats in the Great Hall, they were rather satisfied to have moved up another rung on the Hogwarts social ladder. Second years were more important that first years, after all. In addition, Queenie Greengrass had now made it into her fifth year and had been made a prefect, and given the way she and Bertram Nott were gazing at each other, it was clear that they were more in love than ever.

A quick glance around the hall as they waited for the first years revealed two very interesting facts.

Firstly, Granger was sat in her seat looking extremely alarmed. She clearly had no idea where Potter and Weasley were either. The plot thickened. It was clear, then, that the boys were meant to be here. Granger would have known if they'd been expelled. Maia was slightly worried that Draco had done something reckless, like pushing them off the train, and was putting about line that they were never on the train to start with as a ruse to cover his tracks. Of course, she didn't care what he did to the Weasel, but it would reflect very badly on the Houses of Black and Malfoy if one of their sons had been found to throw the saviour of the wizarding world off the back of the Hogwart's Express.

Secondly, with the graduation of Coeus Blishwick of Slytherin and Marina Villiers of Ravenclaw, a new Head Boy and Head Girl had to be appointed. A quick glance around their own table revealed that neither came from their own House. This did not bode well for the Slytherin students. In fact, the Slytherin table were rather shocked to see that Mycroft Mayfair of Ravenclaw and Sarah Grey of Hufflepuff were the new Head Boy and Girl.

Although Mycroft might have had brains rivalling Merlin, he had the social skills of a flobberworm. The Slytherin second years were not pleased to imagine how he would cope with the demands of being Head Boy if it required him to talk, negotiate and bring about a compromise. Grey, on the other hand, had neither social skills nor brains. She was relentlessly upbeat and sunny and the type of person most Slytherins despised on principle. Their only saving grace was that neither of them were Gryffindors.

Their musings were interrupted when Professor McGonagall marched onto the stage, followed by a trail of drenched and shivering first years.

"How could they not dry them off?" Queenie Greengrass whispered, in a voice far more audible than she intended but which had most of her friends nodding in agreement.

The Sorting Hat burst into song, which hadn't changed greatly from the year before and then McGonagall started the Sorting.

"Anderson, Natalie" became the first Ravenclaw from the year. The Sorting continued uneventfully, and "Burke, Florian" became the first Slytherin of the year.

Slytherin didn't gain a particularly large number of students that year, only five; Florian Burke, Sophia Farley (Gemma's younger sister), Adara Gulray, Daniel Stretton and Caleb Parkin. As soon as Dumbledore finished his welcoming speech, Bertram walked over to the new first years and, with a wave of his wand, had them all warm and dry in an instant. Judging by the looks of admiration of their faces, he had earned their eternal loyalty and devotion, to both himself and Slytherin House.

Maia and Draco put their heads together to discuss the prospects of their new intake. Draco was secretly pleased to see that not only was Maia finally taking a more noticeable interest in blood and politics, she was also talking, which in itself was a blessed relief. He made a mental note to inform his mother of all of this, as she had given him a long lecture prior to their departure, invoking him to look after his bereaved cousin at all times.

Caleb Parkin was already known to them via the various social events the children had had to attend. They had never really spoken to him, as their parents moved in different friendship circles, but they were already acquainted. He was a pureblood who could trace his family back to the fifteenth century. Whilst his bloodline was not quite as prestigious as their own, it was not to be sniffed at, so he was certainly a new contact for them to add to their collection. After all, as the Heirs to the Houses of Black and Malfoy, who intended to work together for years to come, they had to start thinking about these things.

Florian Burke was also known to them. Although they did not move in quite the same circles – his father was the younger son of a younger son who had married a half blood – he was a distant descendant of Elizabeth Burke and his acquaintance was not something to turn one's nose up at if he proved intelligent or useful.

Daphne had by now joined them, and pointed out that Adara Gulray came from a minor pureblood family. Although Adara didn't have a particularly large inheritance ahead of her, she was respectable in every sense, and Daphne had never heard a bad word about the entire Gulray family. Sophia Farley was Gemma's sister, so while the family were even less important than the Gulrays, and had very few pureblood members left, they were pleased with her acquisition. Daniel Stretton was an unknown quantity, but had to be either a half blood or a pureblood, judging by his surname, although none of the second years had ever met him, and the Stretton family were fairly prominent.

None of them saw Professor Snape quietly leave the table.

...

By the next morning, it was all over the school that the two boys (or blithering idiots, as Tracey had termed them) had flown an enchanted Ford Anglia to Hogwarts, been spotted by muggles and then crashed it into the Whomping Willow, from where it had gone berserk and was now running wild in the Forbidden Forest. They had managed to escape unnoticed over Scotland, but the clearer skies in the South of England had had muggles from Essex to Lancashire dialling 999 to report a flying car overhead. And while Herbology was not a favourite subject of any of the Slytherins (it came dangerously close to manual labour, after all) they all cringed when they saw the sorry sight of a rare and magnificent specimen broken and bandaged on the grounds.

Maia sat at breakfast the next morning, reading a letter from her mother, whilst Blaise read out the front-page report on the muggle sightings. A number of Slytherins were confused as to the actual purpose of the car (very few of them took Muggle Studies, and even fewer had close muggle relations) but Maia left Tracey to explain. She wasn't really in the mood for talking.

Suddenly, the quiet of the hall was broken by the not-so-dulcet tones of Mrs. Weasley.

RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO FURIOUS WITH YOU IN ALL MY LIFE-

Maia looked on to see the pale, blanched face of the Weasel. Potter with sitting next to him looking mortified and rather guilty. He was probably dreading his own name being mentioned. Most of the school seemed to be laughing, whilst Draco and the rest of the Slytherin second years were clutching at their stomachs. Maia smiled weakly and turned back to her own letter.

Dear Maia,

I can't believe that you're back in school already. Trixie and Tinky are baking cakes for you as we speak...

Her mother's letter was fairly upbeat, although Maia knew that that couldn't be relied upon. It was very easy to lie in a letter and she wished she could floo call home.

-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY EXPELLED YOU-

By now, Maia was quietly pleased that she had been brought up in such an elegant house and family. Her mother would never holler in the manner in which Mrs. Weasley carried on. She tried to go back to her letter, but couldn't concentrate given the peals of laughter that filled the hall (even Snape was smiling nastily into his goblet) and the shrieks of the Weasel's irate mother.

- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT - I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME!...

Her insides turned unpleasantly with those last words and she stood up quickly, running from the Great Hall. Her feet clattered on the stone floor as she hurtled along. She ran into the first girls' bathroom she saw, and doubled over the toilet in the nearest cubicle. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her hands were shaking uncontrollably and although she retched repeatedly, she found that she couldn't actually be sick.

She hadn't been this bad since the first few weeks after it had happened. She felt weak and small, terrified and completely alone. Those words, casually speaking of the death of a parent, made her feel as though she was about to be swallowed up into some kind of continual and uncontrollable state of panic.

Now that the screeching of Mrs. Weasley was out of her earshot, she concentrated on her own breathing. It gradually slowed down. She walked over to the sink and ran her hands under the tap. Her reflection was not a particularly pretty sight, she looked grey and had a pale sheen of sweat on her face. She splashed herself with a little cold water and felt slightly better.

She felt someone shaking her shoulder and looked across to find Draco standing next to her, holding her school bag. He must have given his own to Vincent or Gregory. Queenie Greengrass stood behind him, her face very pale as well.

"Sorry, were you talking to me?"

Draco nodded slowly, "Yes, are you quite alright?"

She turned back to her reflection and straightened her hair and skirt. "Yes, I'm fine."

Queenie waved her wand and passed Maia a glass of cool water, "Here, drink this. Would you like to go to Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, no I'm perfectly well. I don't want to make more of a fuss than is necessary."

Queenie looked her up and down, "It's not making a fuss, Maia. She would only make you eat a little chocolate. It might be for the best."

She shook her head resolutely.

Draco linked her arm in his own and shouldered her bag securely, "It's alright Queenie, we've only got History of Magic first. Either Vincent or Gregory are bound to have some chocolate with them and I'll make sure Maia eats it. I'll look after her."

Queenie looked at both of them and nodded, "Very well, but make sure she does." She turned to Maia, "You know that if you ever need anything, I'm here for you and so is Bertram and the other prefects. We're your friends as well."

Maia nodded but found that once again, her throat had gone rather dry and she couldn't talk. Draco steered her out of the bathroom and along the corridor to History of Magic. Binns failed to notice them as they slipped into the classroom and, for once, Draco took diligent notes as it was the only way he could convince Maia to abandon her schoolwork and eat her way through the sizeable pile of chocolate Vincent and Gregory and dutifully provided. They had apologised that they had kept their better stash in their dorm room.

Daphne and Tracey kept throwing her worried looks, while Maia tried to ignore them and focus on eating her way through each mouthful at a time. Chewing felt very difficult when her throat was so dry and she felt so very tired and lethargic. She took a deep breath.

This was not how she was supposed to behave. She was a daughter of the House of Black. She was the Heir of the House of Black. She checked her posture and found that she was slouching. She forced herself to sit upright. Even she was going to cry, or panic, or be sick, she had to do that alone and in secret. She had to be strong. She had to behave with elegance and decorum. Public displays of grief – such as running from the Great Hall – were not allowed. They were not to be tolerated.

She ate the last bite of chocolate as the bell rang and carried her own bag to Charms.

...

The next few days were not easy for Maia Black. Although Aunt Cassiopeia had kept the papers away from the prominent family's private grief, her own early departure at the end of first year meant that her fellow students knew what had happened. She remembered when they had all found out that her father was a Squib, when they had taunted her when she walked past. Now they went silent. She wondered if they felt guilty. She wondered if people like the Weasel were capable of guilt.

Draco had taken to escorting her, arms linked, to every lesson while Vincent, Gregory, or occasionally Blaise would be left to carry her books. The crowds parted as they passed and the two cousins walked through with their heads high. The Slytherin second years had decided to act as though the silence was the result of the respect accorded to them. It was the best way they could deal with it.

Parkinson and Bulstrode followed their classmates around in the corridors and sat with them in the Great Hall, but they still kept to themselves in the Common Room. The tension between the two groups had now reduced, however, to fairly peaceful co-existence.

...

Cassiopeia walked away from her desk, and began to pace the room. Caroline had been doing much better during the past few days than she had expected. She had written cheerfully to Maia and had busied herself around the house, doing her best to make their new home as tasteful as she could.

This, of course, had made life much more difficult for herself.

She didn't have Maia to look after.

She didn't have Caroline to look after.

The house elves did not need her direction.

She paced the room.

On her desk now stood a new photograph, which was yellowed with age and which she had hidden years ago. Only in this new house did it see the light of day. It had been buried away since the 1920s.

It was very wrong of her to bring it out again now...

Pollox was wearing his new Hogwarts robes, trimmed with the Slytherin colours. This had been taken on the Yule of his first year and he had insisted on wearing them. Her parents had relented, proud of their eldest son. Pollox stood in front of their father, Cygnus, who was wearing dress robes with a high collar and a lace ruff. He glared at whoever was taking the picture – Cassiopeia forgot who – and his children in turn. Her mother, Violetta, was sitting in a high-backed armchair. Her hair was arranged in elegant curls around her head and held in place with heavy, jewel-laden combs. Her expression was one of icy indifference, which Cassiopeia had later come to admire and emulate. Her mother was a strong woman.

Sitting quietly on her mother's lap was Dorea, the baby of the family, although she must have been at least three when the picture had been taken. Her hair had been curled into ringlets and tied on her head with a large ribbon. Standing next to her mother was Cassiopeia herself, wearing a frilly and lacy pinafore while her hair matched that of her younger sister, although it already reached her waist. She had been a surprisingly pretty child. Cassiopeia could remember begging her mother to allow her to 'put up' her hair for the photograph. Of course, nothing so ridiculous had been countenanced.

Next to her was the brother so close to her in age and so alike in appearance that many people had assumed they were twins. Cassiopeia would be going to Hogwarts in three years time, and even then, they had thought that Marius would follow the year after. Her brother gazed evenly at the camera with all the assurance of a son of the House of Black, even if he was barely seven years old.

That assurance had been ripped from them the day the Hogwarts letter had failed to arrive.

Up until that day, Cassiopeia, or Cassie as only Marius had called her, had remained adamant that her brother was not the Squib her parents feared.

Cassiopeia picked up the silver frame and watched the people of a bygone age stare back at her with eternal pride and decorum, despite the fact that every single one of them was gone, except for her. The people in the picture had no idea of what had happened after the button had clicked and the image processed. Yes, they might move, but their memories and ideas were frozen in time. That Marius thought that he would go to Slytherin. That Cassiopeia thought that she and her younger brother would be best friends forever.

Her first trip home from school had been the very worst of her life.

She had looked at her brother oddly.

Pollox had openly shunned him.

Dorea, ever the baby, had suggested a delayed owl and had been sent to her room with bread and water.

Her parents were silent in his presence. Her father, with stiff resolve, had made enquiries as to life in the muggle world. He instructed his aides to do so with the utmost level of discretion. Her mother had silently wept in her room at what she believed to be her 'failure'.

The next September, Marius had been sent away to school. A muggle school. He boarded full-time, all year round. He lodged in the summer. He rarely returned home. The house had been purged. His room had been turned into a study, his name had been removed from the family tree, and no one in the wizarding world mentioned his name again.

This had been one of the few family pictures to survive. She did not remember saving it. It must have been Dorea. She looked at the toddler. By the time all of this had happened, Cassiopeia had stopped saying his name as well.

At the time she had convinced herself that this was better, but it was not, it was merely easier for her because it pleased her parents, although she was to later disappoint them anyway. But still.

From then on, her brother, her almost twin, was no more. In his place was a filthy Squib. In his place was a disgrace. In his place was an abomination.

She remembered all the things she had said, all the taunts she had made, whenever he had visited as a child.

She remembered how she had ignored him for almost all of their adult lives.

She remembered not inviting him to funerals and weddings.

She remembered belittling him when she had found out about Maia.

She remembered manipulating him, and lying to him, and never telling him the truth.

She remembered that now he would never know that her motives had been true. She had been trying to do her best by them all. By his almost-daughter. Even if she had never said a word. Would he know now that he was beyond the veil? Would he forgive her? Would he understand?

And now she was so far into her lies and manipulations that she could not even confess.

She could not tell Caroline all the steps she had taken. She could not relieve her guilt.

And she could not tell her brother how very sorry she was.

How sorry she was for the lies. She should have told him everything. She should have explained everything. She should have known he was capable of more than being just a Squib.

She was sorry she manipulated him.

She was sorry that she abandoned him.

She was sorry that she taunted him.

She was sorry that she had failed him.

She was sorry that she had not stood by him.

She was sorry for the years she had spent hating him.

She was sorry for the years she had spent pretending he had never been born.

She was so very pleased that he had been born.

She sank down on her bed as the tears began to fall.

She had not cried once since he had died. Not once but for a single tear.

He deserved more than a single tear.

She had not been able to understand it.

How could he be gone?

And could she have made a mistake and how could she not be able to fix it?

That was not how her world worked.

She was sorry that she had never told him she loved him.

Not even when they were little.

He had died never knowing that she did, truly did, look on him as her brother.

She was sorry that she had never asked his forgiveness.

She was so very, very sorry.

Her tears turned into wails and the door was pushed open.

She clutched the frame of the photograph tighter.

Her brother had died.

The last of her family had died.

And throughout her life, she had tried so hard, yet she had failed and disappointed them all.

Her father.

Her mother.

Caroline wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close. She held her tightly.

Cygnus.

Caroline hushed her and rubbed her back as her aging body shook.

Dorea.

Marius.

...

Reviews would be lovely.

Also, I just wanted to quickly add something on to my last A/N. Yes, that was exactly my reasoning behind Bellatrix's wand latching onto Maia. I've had integral plot lines built up around both Maia's Sight (as part of her heritage) and Bellatrix's wand since I first had the idea for this story – and I can't wait for them to both kick off! Sadly, this is a long game and they won't come into play for a while, but I can promise lots and lots of drama in the House of Black during second year! : )