As if my wish had been heard, November passed with the excellent news of Ravenclaw absolutely crushing Hufflepuff, which put Gryffindor back in the running for the Quidditch Cup this year. Between studying for O. and Wood's rigorous training, none of us had time to remember our crippling defeat. Frost soon turned to snow, and as the end of term approached, I decided that it was time for Fred and George to hand over the Marauder's Map to Harry so that he could join us in Hogsmeade. What's the worst that could happen?
I went ahead on the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, waiting for Fred and George to hurry after me. When I passed the dementors, they started towards me with interest but this time, they didn't do much more than watch me with what I could only describe as a penetratingly ravenous stare. It freaked me out a bit so I just picked up the pace. Part of me also hoped to see that dog again, but so far no luck. Instead I just carried on with my Christmas shopping, the boys catching up to me in one of the shops demanding to know what I'd bought and nosily started rooting through my bags to try and find theirs.
"You miscreants! If you carry on like this you won't get anything!" I yelled at them playfully, chasing them out of the shop before launching a snowball at the back of George's head. Then it was an all out war. Bags were tossed aside, completely forgotten as we launched snowball after snowball and soon enough, other students were joining in until the square became a centre of mayhem. Unfortunately, McGonagall happened to be visiting today, with the Minister of Magic to boot, so we all quickly scarpered as she ordered everyone to cease and desist immediately, searching for the instigators so the three of us quickly disappeared. "What's McGonagall doing here?"
"With the minister and all. Wait until we tell dad, he'll probably know."
"Unless he's here for Black?" Fred suggested as we all dusted ourselves off from the snow and started on through the street. "He's left it until late though, hasn't he? Black showed up on Halloween, it's almost Christmas now."
"Maybe he's here to talk to the dementors. Dumbledore's still angry about what happened to Harry, Fudge probably wants to persuade him to keep them around the school." We tossed around a few theories and they were all pretty reasonable, but then ultimately decided that we didn't care. Instead we continued with our shopping, deciding what we were going to do over Christmas. I was staying at school in order to make use of the library and study properly for our exams at the end of the year whilst Fred and George had already signed up to go home.
Since it was getting colder, we decided not to stay out any longer and headed back to the castle, where we feasted and laughed, set off dungbombs in the common room in a farewell bid until I saw Harry, Ron and Hermione come through the portrait. Percy was yelling at his brothers, thinking it was them who set the dungbombs off and not me, but to their credit they didn't rat me out. Instead I was looking at Harry. He looked…there was no other way to describe it. Furious. It surprised me at first, but then Hermione and Ron came over to me, meek as little mice, and started to talk.
They told me that they had been in the Three Broomsticks with Harry under his invisibility cloak – I brushed past that detail, though I made a mental note to come back to it later – when Fudge, Flitwick, McGonagall and Hagrid had come in for drinks. Ron was practically vomiting up words to try and tell me as quickly as he could, saying that they had been talking about Black and how they'd finally learned why he was after Harry, but he was making such a hash of it Hermione had to take over. She revealed that Sirius Black had been best friends with Harry's father, James Potter, close as brothers even.
Then she went into detail, how Black had secretly been supporting You-Know-Who, leaking him secrets on the Potters' whereabouts since he was after them, then she explained about them going into hiding with the Fidelius Charm. I knew of it and stopped her gently when she started to explain it to me, telling her I knew how it worked. "They would have needed a Secret Keeper. Don't tell me they chose to use Black?"
"They did. Oh Mia, it was horrible hearing all this, but it gets worse!" Hermione sniffed, looking completely upset and bedraggled so I pulled her to me in order to hug her, now turning to Ron to carry on the story. Black had ratted Harry's parents out a week later, making him responsible for their deaths, betraying them in the worst way possible. After they died, Black had gone back to try and get Harry but thankfully, Hagrid had got to him first, taking him away. Now calmer than before, Ron then recounted how Fudge had described Black after You-Know-Who's defeat, going completely bonkers after another friend of Black's and Potter's, one Peter Pettigrew, had tried to confront him.
"Apparently there wasn't anything left of him after he was through. Black blew him up, then went off to Azkaban like it was nothing." Ron finished, now finally taking a breath. Well, that explained why Harry looked like he wanted to murder somebody, but why were they telling me. "There's more."
"More? How could there possibly be more?" I questioned in exasperation, already overwhelmed with all this news. Both of them looked at each other, as if silently arguing over who should give me the information until finally Hermione looked at me.
"Mia…Mia they talked about you too. They said…and I swear I'm telling the truth. They said that Black was your father." It felt as if I'd been hit with a full body curse, slamming against me all at once to knock the breath out of my lungs. "Fudge and McGonagall confirmed it. He asked whether it was likely Black would try contacting you and whether you were a liability, but McGonagall defended you. She said there was no way you would possibly help him…oh Mia I'm so sorry."
"It's bloody mental, that's what it is. I still think they've made a mistake. I've grown up with Mia for the past five years, she isn't anything like that nutter." Ron defended fiercely as I croaked, staring at them with wide eyes. As they started to argue, the only thing that kept on circulating in my head was that my mother had lied to me. She told me Black had nothing to do with me. Turns out, this was why she never wanted to talk about him or my father, because they were the same person. I bet this was also why the dementors always came at me whenever I got too close. They knew I was of House Black, could probably sense it and confused me for that man. "Mia?" I had started drifting away before I'd even realised it, heading towards the dorms but rather than going to my room, I went to find Harry.
Circe, I can't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling right now. Because of my father, his parents were both dead. Did he hate me? I wouldn't blame him if he did, but I didn't want that. In any case, I felt like I needed to at least see him, maybe talk to him, I don't know…I hardly knew what to say myself. Opening the door to his dormitory, I saw him sitting on his four-poster bed with a photo book open in his lap, staring down at it. Silently I moved over, joining him on the bed where I gradually sat down beside him, the mattress sinking beneath me as I looked at the photo he was looking at.
It was a wedding. The two people in the middle were obviously his parents, both of them smiling happily and I noted that Harry did indeed look a great deal like his father, his mother having a vibrant head of red hair. Beside his dad, however, was Sirius Black. Not the Sirius Black we'd all seen in the wanted posters, screaming and practically wild, but handsome and happy. To my greatest shock, it appeared I looked a great deal like him just as Harry looked like his dad. We both had curling black hair and bright blue eyes, fair skin and high cheekbones. It made me nauseous, so I looked away the same moment Harry snapped his book shut.
Both of us sat there for a while, neither of us knowing how to fill the empty silence that was expanding between us until finally, I just lifted my arm and put it around him. For a while Harry did nothing, remaining stiff and rigid until gradually, he relaxed and leaned his head against my shoulder where we both remained for a good long while after, a word never once passing between us.
