So...it's been a year but I'm back! I'm still in the process of editing (this is an intensely long story for me) so it will take a while before I begin really updating, but I thought I owed it to my readers to post a new chapter.


First Person POV - Fred

Umbridge seated herself behind her desk, and I followed suit, settling casually in a seat across from hers without waiting for an invitation to sit.

"Now, we have controversial business to discuss, Mr. Weasley, as you might have guessed."

"Controversy?" I frowned and jutted my chin forward slightly in puzzlement. "I don't know what you're referring to."

She sighed pleasantly. "When was the last time you saw Kira Malfoy?"

My puzzlement was replaced by downright shock. Years of practice with confrontation from my mother allowed me to control my features carefully—I raised a contemplative eyebrow, even managed a chuckle—but my hands, which rested in my lap out of Umbridge's sight, formed into fists.

"I guess it was the morning of the day she ran away," I replied, being sure to add 'ran away' at the end. The only reports of Kira's circumstances in the prophet had stated that she'd 'run away' as opposed to being kidnapped by her father. "Why?" I continued. "Am I in some kind of trouble?"

Umbridge watched me carefully with her beady eyes, then the corner of her mouth curved upward. "Not you, Mr. Weasley, but I fear she may be. Are you…aware of her...condition...?"

"Condition?" My stomach somersaulted, but I maintained a passive face. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to. We didn't talk much..." I smirked. "...if you catch my drift."

Her head, which had been tilted slightly, snapped straight up. "I did not expect you to spurt that truth so quickly in our conversation. So quickly that one wonders if it is indeed true?"

I feigned an embarrassed laugh. "I don't brag about things I haven't done when I already have plenty else to brag about. Of course it's true."

Her lips pursed. "So you don't deny the truth behind the rumors of your connection with her?"

I shrugged in response. "Everyone could see we were…connecting. Even you. Why else did you give us detention earlier this year?"

Umbridge ignored my question. "Did you know that Miss Malfoy did deny the rumor when I asked her?"

"She...confided in you about us?"

"Yes."

"I see." My fists tightened. "We never really discussed what we were going to tell people. We both denied it at first, but it seems bothersome now that we're probably never going to see each other again." I shrugged offhandedly. "Yes, it's true."

"Ah, I see." She nodded and looked at me intently. "Well, back to her…condition. You weren't aware that she was pregnant when she left Hogwarts?"

Her eyes bore into mine, searching for any flicker of whatever answer she sought.

My stomach lurched again. I sat forward, pretending to look surprised. "P-Pregnant! But it can't be...she...I mean we...we took precautions!"

"I see." Umbridge sighed deeply again, and a pleased look passed over her face. "When Kira Malfoy denied the rumors, she was under the influence of Veritaserum." I froze. "So, because she was telling the truth I can only assume you two weren't sharing a pillow. So tell me, Mr. Weasley..." She leaned forward slightly. "...would you like to change your story?"

I blinked, staring at her for a long moment. "You know, I...uh..."

"Yes?"

"..."

We continued to stare at each other.

I cleared my throat. "It's no secret that her family and mine share a fervent animosity towards one another. It shouldn't come as a surprise that we'd want to keep all association a secret, even if we weren't—how did you word it? Sharing a pillow."

"So," She tapped her long fingernail against the surface of the desk. "...you are denying the rumors now?"

"I...suppose I am." My brow creased. "We made plans, but we never got the chance to go through with anything."

Her mouth curled into a malicious smile that told me I'd said something wrong. "I suppose it would be fair to tell you I lied. Miss Malfoy did not deny the rumors, even when under the influence of Veritaserum."

I blinked. "Why...?"

"A small test." She raised an eyebrow, looking pleased with herself. "Clearly, Mr. Weasley, you are hiding something."

"How do you know I wasn't merely telling you what you wanted to hear?"

"Because if you were, your pupils wouldn't be so dilated."

I swallowed thickly and we gazed at each other for another awkwardly long moment. A thick silence hovered over us, and I felt unexpectedly like a small child being chided for something. Her eyes saw right through me, and she knew it; it was unnerving. No one could corner me like this but my mother and Kira.

"I-I...ah..." I stammered.

"Yes?"

My heart hammered in my chest and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. "I…think you lost me, my mind's a bit fuzzy from a headache, you see. Are we, er, still nattering about pillow-sharing?"

"A headache?" Her lips pursed. "That's a shame. Perhaps we should continue this conversation another time? Who knows what you might say under the influence of a headache."

I blinked. "Does this mean you're not letting me leave?"

While maintaining a smile she set her wand and a vial of clear liquid on her desk. "It means, that we're going to sit here until you tell me the truth about Kira Malfoy."


One Month Later

The streets of London were riddled in nocturnal shadow, and the foggy air was damp and cool. It was late, but not late enough for the residents of Grimmuald Place no. 12 to be asleep.

Kira sat behind the coffee table in the sitting room, her knees folded under her as she bent over a jigsaw puzzle she'd dug out of a closet in one of Grimmuald's dirty vacant rooms.

A peevish frown framed her eyes, and her lips turned downward as she pursed them; she held a puzzle piece in her hand, roving it along the side of the frame of the puzzle she'd started. Unidentifiable painted flecks of white, yellow, and different hues of blue speckled across the piece quickly, making it hard for her to assert where the piece fit in.

Her eyes began to dart angrily between the animated piece and an empty box that sat nearby, its' cover depicting a moving image of Vincent Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' painting. After a long moment she grit her teeth and bashed the corner of the coffee table with her fist.

"Stop moving around, dammit!"

Sirius looked over at her curiously from across the room from where he sat before the fire. "Getting in rows with jigsaw puzzles now, are we?"

Kira gave a resigned sigh and rolled her eyes tiredly. "Leave me alone."

"But I can't have my dear flat mate arguing with everything that moves..."

"Keep your nose to the ground, mutt," Kira warned. "I don't need this from you right now."

"...perhaps a trip to the top level of St. Mungo's would set you right?"

"Shut—"

She cut herself off mid-sentence and Sirius turned away quickly when Lupin entered the room, teacup in hand. He paused, taking in the way Kira's jaw was set and the way Sirius simpered as his eyes turned downward to the game of chess that he and Lupin had temporarily put on hold.

"The tea is done," he announced slowly, "If you'd like some it's in the kitchen."

Kira's lip curled in amusement when she saw Sirius' hand fly to stroke his stubble, a reminiscent look on his face.

"No thank you," Sirius said politely. "I'm still not comfortable drinking hot beverages."

Lupin looked vaguely in the Malfoy girl's direction before sitting down across from Sirius in an overstuffed chair. The chess set rested on an additional coffee table between them.

"My turn?" Lupin sighed, sipping his tea then setting it down.

"Mm."

As they resumed their game Sirius noticed Lupin giving him a stern, unsympathetic look.

"What?"

"You know what," the werewolf replied quietly, looking away from his friend.

Sirius followed Lupin's gaze and smirked. "It's not like I'm throwing sticks and stones at her. And besides," He lowered the volume of his voice discreetly enough that Kira couldn't hear him from across the room. "...you know she likes it."

"Does she? I know it's none of my business, but I'm not sure you're qualified to say that, Sirius."

"And who is? You? You go off and frolic with your little werewolf friends so often, you barely even live here."

"The Dark Lord is courting the werewolves," Lupin replied, the volume of his voice rising impatiently. "It's important that I keep up with his efforts. Check!" he added.

"Che—what? Where did that piece come from? I could've sworn..."

"Maybe if you'd been paying less attention to her you would have taken an advantage of the time while I was in the kitchen and focused on the board."

Sirius snuck a moody glare at Kira, who had been nonchalantly watching the two men converse with each other in suspiciously hushed tones. When he looked away she made a rude gesture at him with her hand which didn't go unnoticed by Lupin.

"Ah," Lupin added. "And don't think I don't know about your stunt with the Hippogriff. Kira told—"

"By the hair on my chinny-chin-chin..." Sirius interrupted loud and slow, swerving his head back toward Kira. The tone of his loud voice was a mixture of surprise and amusement that caught the girl's attention. "You actually tattled on me about Buckbeak?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You lured me into a bloody Hippogriff's den knowing how dangerous it was. Someone had to spank you."

"But that was weeks ago. Why is this just coming out now?"

Kira shrugged. "Lupin's been in and out."

"Unbelievable!" Sirius jeered. "Was it your frail state that motivated you to tell him, or your hurt pride?"

She turned back to her puzzle. "Both."

There was a long moment of silence, indicating that their group conversation was over.

The werewolf looked back at the chess set, smiling faintly as Sirius took his time making his next move. "She's not indestructible," he said after a long moment of silence, his voice low once again.

"I know you like to pity her, Remus, but every time I look at her I see my cousin at seventeen. Do you remember Bellatrix at that age?"

"She isn't her mother."

Sirius wasn't listening, and he now spoke loud enough that Kira could hear him clearly.

"I remember Bellatrix at that age. She hounded me constantly about my being in Gryffindor. She liked to spike my drinks with non-lethal but pernicious poisons, and set my things on fire when I wasn't home. Sometimes she'd sneak into my room while I slept and pinch my ears with her fingernails, which, if you recall, she grew abnormally long just for that purpose."

Lupin shook his head slightly and groaned. "If we're just going to go in circles, why don't we change the subject?"

"Okay!" Sirius snapped. "When is the next full moon?"

"Next week. And I need to talk to you about that by the way."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Next...? That soon? I hadn't realized..."

Lupin's lips pursed and when he spoke there was an edge to his voice, one that he rarely used. "That's because you're so absorbed in making sure that Kira's life is as uncomfortable as possible. Checkmate."

Sirius watched bitterly as Lupin's queen piece beheaded the king with one fell swoop of the sword in her hand.

"I can't keep doing my cycle at Ragnar's," Lupin continued, the edge still present. "He has too many other werewolves staying with him who don't take the potion. I've spoken with Kira, and she's agreed that it might be best if I do it here."

"Good, maybe she'll get attac—"

Lupin shook his head exasperatedly. "Don't joke about this. It's dangerous, risky. If I'm going to do it here I need you to keep me away from her, safe-potion or no."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "You mean I have to protect that cow?"

"I heard that," Kira interjected, her hand sliding down over her now manifestly large stomach.

"Good!"

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you understand how important this is, Sirius? That you make sure I don't…do anything?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I'd be kicked out of my own house if I didn't. Kicked out of my house, kicked out of the Order, not to mention I'd have my arse kicked right off by Tonks."

"Then...you will do it? Even if it's for selfish reasons?"

There was a pause, then Sirius drew an 'x' over the left side of his chest with his finger and held his hand up. "Marauder's honor."

Lupin nodded, looking reassured. "Good. Then I don't have to find a shack in the middle of nowhere."

"Well...I might mess with her a little bit..."

"No, no, no. Sirius..." Lupin stared at the animagus tiredly.

Sirius grinned, flashing his sharp white teeth. "I'm kidding, of course." He looked over at Kira. "I mean, we wouldn't want anything to happen to her little Dark Peer of the Realm, now would we?"

"If you can't handle it…"

"I'm kidding again. You can trust me."

"Can I? You joke about her life being in your hands a lot. I can't have you repeating what James did to Snape."

"Remus, you can trust me."

Lupin stared at him for a long moment. "I trust you with my life, Sirius, but I'm not sure I trust you with Kira's. I...I think I'll ask someone from the Order to come."

Sirius flinched.

The werewolf stood up and placed his hands in his pockets, looking frazzled. "I think I'm off to bed," he announced loud enough for Kira to hear.

Kira shot a side glance at Sirius then nodded. "Goodnight then."

Lupin's eyes lingered on Sirius' face searchingly for a long moment before he turned and left. The room was silent until the sound of Lupin's footsteps in the next room reached the top of the stairs.

"It's a bit early for bed, isn't it?" Kira wondered aloud.

Sirius stiffened and fisted his hands at the sound of her voice. "He's tired."

"Sure."

"Oh, shut up!" Sirius growled, growing infuriated with the way Kira smirked knowingly without looking away from the jigsaw puzzle.

"You know flat mate, if that temper keeps up you might need to visit the top level of St. Mungo's."

Sirius grit his teeth and stomped out of the room, keeping his hands pinned to his sides to keep himself from hitting something as he passed through the hallway.

Kira continued to smirk even after he'd left the room.


It was nighttime, and I was standing in Malfoy Manor, in the hallway outside my bedroom. I couldn't take my eyes off my door. My fingertips traced the dark wood, grazed over the polished silver doorknob, before pushing it open altogether and stepping into my old room.

It was just as I remembered it, just as I'd left it that night I ran away. Witch Weekly magazines splayed across the floor by the window seat, a copy of Merlin's Grimoire laying open and turned down on my nightstand, my bed sheets tousled from my last encounter with Draco.

The door shut behind me and I heard a click. I turned to see someone standing in the shadows in the corner by the door.

"Kira."

My stomach flopped in recognition of his voice.

Fred stepped toward me into the light, and didn't stop until we were barely touching. His expression was blank, and he cupped something to his chest, over his heart, but his hand covered it so completely that I couldn't see what it was.

I closed my eyes as he leaned down and gave me a lifeless kiss. When I reopened them I saw that it wasn't Fred leaning away from me, but Draco.

The room had changed as well; we weren't standing in my old bedroom but an endless flat field of red amaranthus flowers. The sky overhead was a shade of amaranthine, and as I looked around thick pellets of blood began raining down on the flowers from the sky.

Draco stood in front of me, both of us untouched by the crimson fluid that fell from the sky, as if the blood was dodging out of our way as it fell. His expression was yearning, and there was so much more emotion in his face than what had been in Fred's. He never took his eyes from mine as he pulled his hand from his chest.

A red apple uncurled from his palm. He held it toward me, offering it to me.

I hesitated.

There was a soft rustle of fabric as a gust of wind blew the uncommonly long open sleeve of Draco's robes over his face. When he pulled the fabric away it wasn't Draco who reappeared, but Lucius, hovering over me. I cowered beneath him, and when my eyes instinctively lowered they grazed over the fruit in his hand to see a fat green worm slinking out of the core through a hole in the top.

I looked closer and saw that it wasn't a worm curving around the apple, but a garden snake. When my eyes moved back up the figure before me had changed form once again.

A small girl stood before me this time, smiling as she extended the tainted fruit toward me with both hands. She had a porcelain doll face, with smooth rosy lips and unsullied skin. Her jet black hair fell in perfect, loose ringlets around her shoulders, and her eyes were a light liquid brown.

Her angelic face became distressed when I took a step back. She pushed the fruit toward me, her brows furrowing together. My heart squeezed with guilt but I continued to step back.

I lost my footing, my feet sliding against something slippery, and I fell backwards into a deep puddle. I looked around at the ground in disgust; the flowers, no longer discernible as flowers, now drowned in an unending ankle-deep ocean of blood. I was no longer protected from the rainfall as blood wafted over my legs, soaking my clothes, and I could feel flecks of the warm sticky substance pellet onto my cheek as it fell from the sky. I knew that if it kept raining I would drown in it.

Then cold thin lips pressed against my ear from behind, and I didn't need to move to know whom those lips belonged.

"Look before you leap..." he hissed.

I awoke, choking and gasping for air, shrieking as I swatted and scratched the sickly moisture at my legs and arms. When I realized I was no longer sitting in a pool of blood but rather, was caked in sweat, I froze and pulled my hands from my body. My chest rose and fell quickly as I took shallow breaths, which quickly turned into silent dry sobs.


I snuck out of my room, my bare feet scraping quietly across the carpet as I moved down the hallway, making my way towards the staircase as quietly as I could.

My whole body trembled, and sweat still dotted my forehead from my feverish nightmare. I took my time, stepping through the dark slowly, holding the railing to keep my balance. Faint light trickled from the dining room into the hallway on the first floor, and when I reached the bottom of the staircase I saw Lupin sitting at the dining room table. A disarray of open scrolls and papers were jumbled across the table in front of him.

He was fully dressed, though his shirt was un-tucked and the top three buttons were undone. I tiptoed hesitantly toward the dining room and saw that he was drinking straight from a bottle of firewhiskey.

My foot landed on a rotten floorboard and it moaned loudly under my weight. I bit my lip. Lupin looked up, startled, and when his eyes fell on me he capped the bottle in his hand quickly and hid it out of sight under a stack of papers.

"T-trouble sleeping?" he asked, buttoning up his shirt.

The warmth in his expression faltered when I gave him a mechanical 'yes' and moved into the kitchen. From the countertop I grabbed the bottle with my name marked on it in Snape's script, sighing as I padded back and took a seat at the corner diagonal from Lupin; my stomach bumped the edge when I sat, so I moved sideways in the chair instead, placing my elbow on the table. My hand lingered on my stomach.

"I didn't know you drank." I nodded toward the lump of papers where he'd hid the firewhiskey.

"You saw that did you?" He smiled reservedly, looking slightly abashed. "It's not mine, it's Sirius'. I, ah, always steal his alcohol during the week of the full moon; it takes the edge off the migraines." He pulled the bottle back into sight but pushed it off to the side and placed his hands in his lap.

"Hmph." My eyes roved over the papers. I saw receipts, handwritten notes, blueprints, and some official looking documents that I didn't recognize.

"So."

I looked up.

He hesitated. "You're having bad dreams again?"

"Only the ones where Sirius is pointing and laughing at me and calling me a 'fatty' over your shoulder while he hides behind you."

Lupin's slight smile disappeared completely. "The same one as last time, I take it?"

"And the time before that." My hand tightened around the vial of Blood-Replenishing potion and my voice dropped an octave lower, becoming more serious. "Just a few details were different, but yes, for the most part. I open a door I know I shouldn't go through, I see a snake, and a child, and then I fall over."

He placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. "They say pregnancies can cause vivid dreams. Maybe they'll go away once the child is born."

"Please don't say the b-word," I moaned. "It's too early to start talking about that."

Lupin chuckled. "You're six months pregnant, by now most mothers would have already finished making their baby rooms. You don't even have name."

"Well I'm not 'most mothers'."

"Right." He inclined his head toward the potion in my hand. "Were you going to drink that?"

"I'll have to, sometime before Snape makes the next monthly delivery. I don't know how he spots it, but he always knows if I haven't had my dosage." I shrugged. "I came downstairs because I...I thought it might help me sleep."

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to have Dumbledore examine the child."

My eyes dropped and I traced my thumb around the cap of the bottle in my hand.

"He means well, Kira."

I snorted. "He wants to 'examine' me, because he's curious about the science behind my pregnancy. I…I'm grateful for his help, but I don't like being treated like a walking experiment."

"I know you decided that you wanted to raise the child yourself, but…have you thought more into his offer?"

My jaw tightened. "Lupin...I know you mean well, but...I...don't want to discuss this with you." I frowned. "I-I think I'm going back to bed.

I struggled to stand up, the weight in my stomach pulling me back. Lupin offered his hand but I ignored it, grabbing hold of the table instead, hoisting myself up.

"Er, goodnight."

"Thanks for the talk," I muttered as I walked out of the room. "Again."

"Anytime."

I paused going up the stairs outside the room, looking over my shoulder, and smiled faintly when I saw Lupin pinch the bridge of his nose briefly before reaching out for the firewhiskey.

I turned and froze mid-step, finding my face so close to Kreacher's face that I was cross-eyed. I took a startled step back. There was enough light filtering from the dining room to the dim staircase that I could see his features plainly.

"The Niche should be sleeping..." he wheezed, his voice sounding like a creaking door. "...should take care of herself…the Niche should take care of her Master's successor."

A chill ran down my spine. "He is not my Master." I paused for a moment, then added: "And…you should be happy he is not yours either."

"She is a jester. She has been honored by the highest exalted. She has kissed the feet of a God, touched the stars, drunk the finest wine from the holiest grail...yet she whinges like she's been punished...she is her Dark Lord's eternal bride...the Niche of his heir...his vessel..."

My shoulders hunched.

"...yet she cringes at being called so…she runs away, apostatizes herself...Kreacher is ashamed to look upon such a quisling—"

"Then don't!" I snapped. "Go someplace else!"

There was a pause. Kreacher stared at the ground rigidly before giving a low bow. "...yes your Illustriousness..." Then he disapparated.

"Kira?" Lupin called from the next room. "You're still there? Are you okay?"

My nostrils flared.

"It was just Kreacher," I replied simply, before continuing up the stairs without waiting for him to reply.


The skin under my eyes felt heavy, and I knew they were dark. I hadn't slept for the rest of the night, tossing and turning, disconcerted over what Kreacher had said. It was what he always said when he saw me, but I hadn't grown used to his uncanny disgust toward me.

It was unsettling, to think that if I hadn't renounced Voldemort personally, the Death Eaters who'd treated me lower than the core of the earth would now be treating me like royalty, like I was higher than the heavens.

I yawned.

I know I would have gotten better sleep if I hadn't overlooked the blood-replenishing potion; it still sat on my nightstand, every drop still contained within the bottle. I'd been too distracted to care.

Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"You know, Kira..."

My blood pressure rose instantly. Sirius sat down next to me, his buttered toast in one hand and a cup of spiked coffee in the other.

"...I had a good dream last night."

"That's nice." I crossed my legs and continued working on the jigsaw puzzle from the night before.

"Yes," Sirius continued. "In this dream, I lived in a lake house all by myself. There were no pests, no flat mates, just me—by myself—in solitude. It was relaxing, peaceful...away from people, and pests…by myself—alone."

"Too bad you woke up," I replied without looking up.

He paused. "Is that implying something?"

"No implication," I shrugged. "I'm just saying, you should just stay asleep next time. Permanently."

Sirius scowled bitterly, taking a long sip of his coffee.

We said nothing more for a long while.

I continued to bemuse myself over the puzzle, but I felt edgy as I progressed. I was exhausted, and I could feel Sirius watching me, breaking down my movements piece by piece with his eyes. He seemed to either be waiting for me to do something or trying to come up with some new shaggy-dog story to humiliate me.

It surprised me that he spoke of solitude the way he did. He, who was desperate to leave the house he grew up in. I surmised that my presence in his house must really disturb him that much.

"May I ask a personal question?" he said at last, bringing the coffee mug to his lips.

"You'll ask whether or not I give permission," I replied. "So…go ahead I guess."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Sleep with him."

I sighed. "I've told you before, cur, I've never slept with Fred—"

"I'm not talking about Fred."

"You're..." I stiffened. "That...that's a little on the nose."

"Well, I asked permission, and you gave it." He took another sip of coffee. "You see, they're calling it 'rape'—but Mad-Eye said that you actually made a written deal with your father. You must have known what was going to happen before you made the deal. So, I guess what I'm asking is: was it really rape in the first place?"

I stared at him. "I...am not going to ask you if you just said what I think you just said, because I know it's what you just said."

He smirked. "Good, I don't have to repeat myself then."

I turned back to the puzzle slowly.

"So…are you going to tell me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I told you could ask a question, but I didn't say I'd answer it."

He frowned. "That's cheap."

"Well, it was a cheap question."

"How so?" he asked exasperatedly.

"You were hitting below the belt."

He smirked. "Since you're not answering my question I'll take it to mean it's true then. You knew what you'd signed up for."

"No." I glared at the puzzle. "My situation was…complicated."

"But you still knew."

Without moving my head my eyes flickered at him furiously. "I said it was complicated. If you persist, I will dent that cheek of yours again."

Sirius unconsciously began moving his hand towards his cheek; the scar was healed now, mended by an ointment Lupin had brought home for him, and he'd begun shaving again for lack of a scar to cover up. His hand wavered and fell back into his lap, his face breaking suddenly into a broad smirk.

"As you wish." He took another sip of coffee before standing up


POV - Sirius

I lie awake in bed, with my hands folded behind my head and my legs crossed, thinking about what it would be like if the Malfoy just disappeared. I knew Remus was right, but it was hard to ignore the girl. After years of solitude in Azkaban, and then solitude on the run, it was hard not to become preoccupied with anyone I lived with.

I don't know how long I lay there trying to cool my bitter thoughts, but when I finally banned them from my head, trying to sleep, the sound of Kira's raw shrieks cut through the silence that had hung over the house.

I jumped with a start.

The bestial sound of her hoarse screaming soaked right through the ceiling above me. The once-still air became charged with an unnerving friction, rising the hairs on the back of my neck. I lay paralyzed, unsure whether or not what I was hearing was real.

Five weeks, and not once had she made a single chirrup in her sleep. Five weeks.

After a too-long moment, the noise dwindled and stopped. I jumped out of bed instantly and apparated to her room.

She was sprawled across her side on her bed, her eyes gaping in shear terror and her chest moving visibly as she took choppy short breaths, her hands gripped her stomach fervently as if she were in pain. When she saw me her expression of dread did not falter, if anything the lines on her forehead grew deeper and her grip on her stomach more fisted.

"He was hovering right over me," she said intensely, her voice shaking. "He had claws…Merlin, he was going to tear right through my stomach!"

I stood awkwardly next to the bed, watching her with wide eyes. Upon further examination of the room with a quick rove with my eyes I saw that we were the only two people in the room.

My lips pursed suddenly. "Are you talking about Kreacher?"

"No," she breathed, shaking her head fervently.

"Who then?"

Kira looked nauseous and feverish, her lips moved but no sound came from them. She swallowed then tried again in a small voice. "...Voldemort."

I looked down at her, trying to remain stoic; the raw fear in her expression as she mentioned him surprised me. "It was just a dream. Try to go back to—" My voice caught in my throat when she let out a stifled grunt.

As she sat up and cleared her hands away from her stomach, she passed through the moonlight and my eyes grazed over the shiny moisture on the front of her shirt.

"Sirius..." Kira brought one of her hands up to her face then turned toward me dazedly. "...I...I think I'm bleeding..." She groaned and arched forward, her face twisting as she held one arm around her abdomen.

My hands fisted as I moved closer to her, lighting a few candles as I came to a stiff crouch next to the bed. She lifted her shirt a few inches to reveal three grotesquely deep gashes stretched across her skin, blood oozing down into her lap.

"How...?" I breathed

Her eyes pooled with tears. "Not again."

I looked at her sharply. "Again...?"

"Sirius," she choked, pressing her hand tightly against the wounds. "give me your wand. I can heal it."

I hesitated.

"Sirius! I could lose this baby!"

I swallowed. "Would that be a bad thing?"

"Dammit! Call for help if you don't trust me with your wand, just do something!" Blood began oozing out between her fingers. "Get Dumbledore, or Snape!"

"D-Dumbledore, I'll get Dumbledore!" I gripped my wand as I ran out of the room, feeling something akin to paranoia.