A Marauder's Guide to Falling Forever
PART FOUR
Written by alliegrl
Chapter Twenty One
Though the seasons were changing, everything still felt much of the same. The same agonizing nightmares continued to haunt Marlene, and even though Sirius never left her to sleep alone, his presence brought no relief from the demons that visited her every night.
She had seen too much; too many lifeless corpses, too much blood. Her life was filled impossibly with too much of everything. Aguish, primarily. Nothing could ever take that pain away, and she seriously questioned whether a good memory spell could even do the trick, something she selfishly considered once or twice during her darker periods.
She hadn't been the one to do it, but she understood after the attack who the wife was that Travers blamed her death for. Rose. Rose had been a death eater all that time. She had been the one to leak out information from the Ministry. She had been the one to kill...
Even thinking about Patrick's death made Marlene's pain worse. She hadn't believed him. All that time he was trying to tell her he was innocent for crimes that James and Sirius had condemned him for. Sirius still didn't think he was innocent, and with Patrick dead they'd have no way to be absolutely certain. But Marlene's heart squeezed whenever she recalled her last memory of him, when she shot three stun spells to his chest rendering him unconscious. She had sealed his fate that night in the unit, leaving him alone with Rose.
Had she been the one to kill her own brother, or had it been someone else that stumbled unfavourably into the ward after Marlene's departure? Had it been quick? Had he fought them first? Her mind was unrelenting with intrusive thoughts and questions, wracking her with unsurmountable guilt day after day. Reprieve from her remorse always seemed to be just out of her reach, but truthfully she blamed herself, and struggled immensely to allow for self-forgiveness.
But her grief wasn't limited to Patrick. The Order was even worse off than it had been prior. Too many members had been killed in either the St. Mungo's attack or the ones to follow. Hope within the Order was beginning to dwindle as the number of Order members continued to decline, and the realization began to settle in that they were vastly outnumbered. Even if they had the full support of the Ministry, which they didn't due to great suspicion that it was largely infiltrated with Deatheaters, they were hopelessly no match for Voldemort's rapid increasing of power.
But nobody wanted to admit that out loud, even though Marlene was certain she was not the only one to feel it.
Even Tom's recovery was stagnant. While she had been so adamant to stay by his side prior to the hospitals attack, she could hardly bear to set foot in it again. But she did manage to drop by for weekly visits in order to check on his progress. The nightmares were the worst on those days.
It was early into summer when she received the first real sliver of good news from the hospital. Tom was beginning to respond better to his treatment, and upon visiting him she had been elated when he instantly recognized her as she entered the room.
"Marlene!" he had exclaimed with such joy before beginning to speak to her with a compilation of words that did not form proper, coherent sentences. Still though, Martha had assured her that his recognition of her face and name was a good indicator that he was on the right track to recovery.
His physical injuries had long ago healed, and though he had permanent scars and disabilities that would never fade the same, the smile he offered at her arrival was unmarred and gloriously familiar; a reflection of the man Marlene remembered fondly from her childhood.
She had sat with him for an hour, listening to him talk nonsense with only a few moments where he seemed to recognize that he wasn't making sense at all. She wore her smile like a protective shield whilst in his company, and only when she had left the room did she break down and cry.
The promise of better days to come with his recovery was all she could cling to as she left the hospital that day.
But later that night, before the usual nightmares had a chance to make their unwelcome appearance, she was awakened from a dreamless sleep when something shifted on the bed. Her hand reached out for Sirius's body to bring him closer, but he wasn't there. Her eyes snapped open as her hand stretched across the open space to feel for him, her slender fingers desperately clawing around the cold, empty bed sheets. A sudden quickening began to dance rhythmically within her chest.
"Sirius?" she called out, panicked. Since that night at the hospital he hadn't once left her alone at night, an unspoken agreement she had come to heavily rely on. As the light filtered in from the window and her eyes adjusted, her peripheral caught sight of his dark form sitting at the end of the bed. His back was mostly turned to her so that his face was hidden by shadows, and a flood of relief washed over, instantly calming her racing heart rate.
"What's wrong Sirius?" She angled her body to see him better, moonlight pooling in through the window and lighting up the expression on his face. He was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression dark and void of emotion. He was staring at the wall, completely still like that of a stone gargoyle.
"Regulus," he stated, offering nothing further.
"What about him?" Marlene probed curiously, stifling back a yawn. Sirius didn't talk about his family. It was a conversation she never felt inclined to inquire about, already knowing enough about them to make up her mind that they weren't worth knowing about.
"He came by tonight," he said, his voice soft and distant. "Just now."
For the second time that evening Marlene's heart seized in her chest and she spluttered tangibly, "Wh-what?! Here? To our place?" She still had difficulty thinking of the flat as her own, even though she had been living in it for a few months. But the words rolled effortlessly off her tongue somehow at the prospect that she was no longer safe in the place they occupied together.
She watched his dark figure nod slowly before he spoke. "Don't worry. I don't think he's a danger to you..." he stalled for a moment before continuing. "To us."
"How do you figure that?" Marlene clenched the sheets of the bed and held them tightly to her body, feeling violated somehow. Too many questions danced around in her mind, but she only managed to vocalize a few. "Why didn't I hear him? Why didn't you wake me?"
Then Sirius turned his head and she realized he wasn't as emotionless as his tone implied. His eyes held more than a hint of pain, a storm threatening to drown them both right there in the loft. "He's turned. I always knew that life was too much for him. But he learned it too late. I saw it at the hospital. I saw that he wanted out...I wish that he had just let me help him then...when I offered."
Marlene's mind was still racing. "Why was he here Sirius?"
"He came to apologize. And he - and he confirmed my theory that we have a spy in the Order. He just doesn't know who. Voldemort has kept whoever it is hidden away, likely for reasons such as this. He doesn't know anything about the prophecy though, I believe he would have told me if he did." He sighed, raking a shaky hand through his hair, diverting his eyes downward and away from her. She could sense his evasiveness and that there was something else he wasn't sharing with her.
"What else Sirius?" Her voice was soft, cautious.
His gaze flickered upwards to meet hers. "Said he knows how to stop him. Rambling on with some nonsense. But he couldn't tell me and he didn't stay long because...well, I suspect that he knows he's as good as dead." His voice cracked, and then became much quieter. "He came to say goodbye."
Marlene scampered through the sheets on her way to him. Her arms curled around his cold, limp body and she pulled him in. "I'm sorry, Sirius," she said quietly, her chest pressed against his back, arms snaked around him and she lowered her chin to rest it on his shoulder. Her hand raked through his hair in a comforting motion, and she whispered another apology into his ear while silently wishing that she could take his pain away.
His body tensed, the first signs of life beginning to stir. "Don't," he said bitterly. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me."
"I don't feel sorry for you," Marlene replied quietly, her hand continued to comb through his hair. "I'm sorry that you are in pain. Don't shut down on me, Sirius. Please. I just want to be here for you, to be whatever you need."
And then he turned his head unexpectedly, his one hand coming up behind Marlene to hold the base of her neck. Their eyes interlocked only for a moment before he moved inwards, his lips coming together with hers. She pulled away from him, confused.
"Really? A kiss isn't the solution. You shouldn't just ignore your pain, Sirius," she scolded him with unintended judgment.
He paused, analyzing the concern brewing in Marlene's eyes. "Don't look at me like that Mar. Of course I grieve for the brother I once had. I'm not heartless. He may be my brother by blood, but he made it clear years ago who his chosen family was. As painful as it is for me to admit, there's nothing I can do for him now and I'm choosing to accept that."
When Marlene didn't reply he moved closer. "And I'm not ignoring my pain," he hummed under his breath. "I'm currently looking for a mild distraction to calm my mind. So yes, a kiss is a fantastic solution. In fact..." His lips trailed along the side of her jaw, pausing at her ear lobe to quietly whisper. "I can't wait until all of this is over." Then he planted another kiss, softer, along her temple. "I can't wait until we can just be together and not have to worry about anyone or anything else." Another kiss against her cheek and directly adjacent to her lips. "I don't want to think about Regulus anymore this evening."
Marlene sighed with a mixture of desire and defeat. "We don't have to worry about anything else right now," she murmured in agreement, feeling the sudden increase in tempo racing through her chest. Her hands curled around his neck and into his hair, bringing his lips to meet hers.
He returned her kiss greedily and without hesitation. They became consumed with their equally shared desperation to forget, and quickly lost themselves within one another. If only for a brief moment, everything else faded away.
Not long after they had fallen asleep, blissfully wrapped around one another, did the nightly dreams begin to filter her subconscious thoughts. But for the first night in months Marlene did not dream of St. Mungo's.
It was much quieter in the Department of Mysteries. Darker, calmer. It was a form of reprieve from the images of battered, lifeless corpses littering the marbled floors of the former sanctuary. Her feet carried her through the dimly lit corridor, taking in her surroundings with such great detail that it was hard to tell if she were truly dreaming or not.
It looked the exact same as the last time she had stepped foot within its great walls; the eerie blue lighting illuminated the path she followed down through instinct alone. Row 97 was dark apart from the subtle, mystical glow of the familiar orb, the one that had caused all the trouble for Marlene and the rest of the world.
Her arm reached out, the tattoo of the key on her arm lit up by the light bouncing off the glass, and her fingertips closed around it. It was cold and sent a shiver racing through her body. She delicately pulled the sphere from the shelf, and the same mysterious, feminine voice filled the empty hall and echoed around her like the wind.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...
Her eyes were closed and she could vividly see James and Lily huddled on the asphalt of the train yard. It was the night James had proposed. Crying, holding each other, defying Voldemort's attempt at murder. She saw their wedding, how they held each other and looked so in love that the world around them disappeared. Then St. Mungo's when Snape had nearly ended James' life. And finally Harry. The first time she saw the tuft of baby Harry's jet black hair, looked into his striking green eyes. Harry's face. That's all she could see. And then when she opened her eyes again something was different.
She didn't need to read the inscription to know that it had changed. Because she was the Keeper of the Hall, and she had been the one to change it. And it ripped her apart knowing that she had been the one to formally seal the fate of the future.
She placed the orb back in its proper place, knowing that one day another would seek to obtain it before it fell into the hands of its rightful heir. And only two people besides the keeper had rights to claim it. She looked at the inscription anyways.
S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D
Dark Lord
and (?) Harry Potter
