The next few weeks passed in a haze. Classes resumed straight after exams as if nothing had happened. Bess' seventh year friends prepared for graduation, and students chatted about their summer plans.

"I'm not sure yet," is all Bess would answer to her friends' questioning, and, "maybe, once I know where I'm staying," were her answers to offers to visit, or to have Bess visit. She felt awful answering in riddles, but she couldn't tell anyone that she would be confined to Sirius' flat, she couldn't tell anyone where Sirius' flat was so that they could visit, and she couldn't confirm that she'd be allowed to visit them at all over the summer. Nor could she tell them that she wasn't sure that she'd even last the entire summer. Letters would have to suffice for now.

The last quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs Slytherin, and went off with an anxiety enducing bang. James scored and assisted in scoring so many goals that even a few Slytherins could be overheard commending him. Only for a moment, but it happened. In the end, Scott managed to capture the snitch in a death defying move which sent the Slytherin seeker, Regulus Black, hurtling into the stands and landed him in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend.

The Gryffindor party afterwards was such a roaring one that McGonagall was called at one o'clock in the morning to send all of the students to bed with the threat of detentions for the remaining term, and into September as well, should they ignore her.

Bess, Sirius, Lily, James, Peter and Remus all snuck out that night and sat around a small fire under Lily's tree by the lake again. They shared stories and chatted until the sun began to rise, and then they traipsed back into the castle, splitting up to head back to their forms with the promise of meeting for lunch once they'd all had a good sleep. Bess, who had been taking pictures on her Polaroid camera since Christmas, stowed away her photos in a special envelope labelled, "Lily," which Lily would receive in Bess' will. She'd know what to do with the photos.

Bess' chats and duelling practice with Jasper should have resumed, but due to his busy schedule, had been rearranged, to start again over the summer. Due to a rise in attacks, and further intelligence surrounding Delbert and a few suspected Death Eaters, Jasper was currently working overtime and had had his working days switched round. So for the whole of June, Bess was without a teacher. Instead, she went to the disused classroom every Thursday afternoon and practiced alone. She desperately wanted to go to the Room of Requirement, but she knew that Sirius wouldn't be able to go long without checking the map to make sure she was safe, and so would panic if he couldn't see her on it. She also didn't want Peter to know that she'd found the room - if he did and told Voldemort, there could be Horcrux related ramifications.

xXx

The exam results were released on the final day of term. Bess wasn't the only one waiting impatiently for them - it seemed that the whole student population was poised on the edge, trying to figure out if they passed or failed. Though, not for the reasons you'd think... most were waiting with baited breath because, after a year of deaths, fear rising, and more Death Eater attacks than ever before, everyone wanted to end the term on some good news, and with exam results came more house points.

Even the Marauders were on their best behaviour because, as James said during their second group excursion to sit by the lake, "Can't let the bloody Hufflepuffs win again! No offence, Bess, but Hufflepuff's can go to hell for all I care. This year, we're winning."

On the other hand, the Slytherins had taken it upon themselves to try and ensure that the Hufflepuffs did win. Ravenclaw were pretending to stay impartial, but had either taken sides, or, in the case of a few seventh year boys, set up an underground betting ring with odds of 5/1 for Gryffindor and 2/1 for Hufflepuff.

And, after the Quidditch match, the current totals stood at:

Hufflepuff: 586

Gryffindor: 562

Ravenclaw: 454

Slytherin: 447

Which is why, on the 24th June, 1977, Bess found herself sitting in the Transfiguration classroom, nauseous not only at the idea that she might let everyone down, but also at the idea that she might get grades so bad that they actually lost her house points.

With a flick of Professor McGonagall's wand, Bess found a piece of parchment soar onto the desk in front of her. Not wanting to let anyone else see her results lest they be terrible, she ducked her head and used her arms as a barrier to hide her parchment and face from view.

She knew that her theory results would be higher than her practical ones, but it was jsut a case of how much higher, and if she'd managed to, in her reams and reams of parchments, answer the questions correctly.

She scanned the top of the page and saw that for end of year exams, the grades weren't the usual O, EE, A, P, D, T, but were instead the percentage next to a Pass or Fail.

Coulson, D. Elizabeth

Charms - theory: 92%, practical: 84% - PASS

Defence Against the Dark Arts - theory: 100%, practical: 94% - PASS

History of Magic - 100% - PASS

Potions - theory - 74%, practical: 92% - PASS

Transfiguration - theory: 83%, practical: 69% - PASS

Bess didn't move for minutes, reading over and over again, making sure that the information was correct. As it began to sink in, she began to cry silently. She tried to hide it, but when Lily poked her and asked if she was okay, she couldn't any longer. She just shook her head, which was still incredibly close to the desk in front of her. She felt her arm being lifted up slightly as the parchment was tugged from in front of her.

There was a pause before Lily said, "Oh for god's sake, I thought you'd failed or something! This is brilliant!"

"I know!" Bess said, raising her head and wiping her eyes as she hiccupped. "I tried so hard! And look! I passed Transfiguration and everything!" she whispered in a proud and excited, but wavering, voice as she pointed to her marks.

"And your marks speak for themselves, Miss Coulson. Take 5 points for Gryffindor for your exceptionally hard work and dedication this year," Professor McGonagall called from the front, and the room filled with cheers and groans. "Settle down! Settle down! I'm sure every teacher will be handing out points today! The cut off for the cup isn't until six p.m! And no, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Lupin, that is not an invitation to wreak havoc before the feast!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Professor!" Sirius called from the back.

"And Miss Coulson? Miss Coulson? Please remember that these are end of year exams? I have had many a witch and wizard pass through these halls with exemplary end of year marks, only to fall when confronted with the official NEWT level examinations," McGonagall warned. Bess gulped but nodded.

"Professor! Who got the highest grades this year?" Roathe, a Ravenclaw towards the back of the room called.

"One moment please..." Professor McGonagall said, producing a piece of parchment.

"She's just going to..." Bess said, thinking back to university, when the grades were posted on a wall every year and students would check to see how well they'd done. She blushed with embarrassment at the memory - she'd never managed to come out on top.

"Every year," Lily whispered back. She was bouncing up and down in her chair, staring at the Professor. "I really hope I got Potions. I tried so hard!"

"Oh please. I'm surprised you weren't born in a cauldron," Bess whispered back, rolling her eyes.

Lily sent her an appreciative smile and said, "Thanks," before their attention was commanded once more by Professor McGonagall.

"Ah. There were multiple joint firsts this year," she said, before beginning to call out each subject followed by the student. "Arithmancy, Jacob Matthews, Astronomy, Daria Damocles, Care of Magical Creatures, Amos Flout, Charms, Sally Hadar, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, Divination, Celeste Grant, Herbology, Frederick Hangle, History of Magic, Daphne Coulson, Muggle Studies, Eridanus Nash, Potions, Lily Evans, James Potter, and Severus Snape, Transfiguration, Sirius Black and James Potter."

"Wait, who's Daphne?" called a voice from the back, and Bess nodded and frowned at the Professor. She hadn't recognised the name.

In fact, she was ashamed to say that it took her another few seconds to piece it together. When she did, she gasped and jumped up and down in her seat, slapping Lily on the arm. "It's me! That's me!"

"Yes, Miss Coulson, it is," Professor McGonagall called over the class' laughter.

James shouted from the back of the room, "Honestly, for someone so intelligent to completely miss their own name..."

Bess tried her hardest to not look back at Sirius. Instead, she waited until they were all leaving the classroom and 'bumped' into him. Apologising profusely, she turned and walked down the corridor with Lily, smiling to herself and flexing her hand slightly.

For just one moment, in the middle of a crowd, she slipped her hand into his. That would have to do for the next 36 hours until they'd arrived at Platform 9 and 3/4 and were on their way home.

xXx

Just before the end-of-year-feast, Bess walked into the library. She had a small pile of books she needed to return before it closed for the holidays, and she didn't fancy getting up extra early in the morning to do so. She'd sent Lily and her friends off ahead of her - she just wanted a moment of solitude. They'd taken one look at her pleading expression and allowed her this one freedom.

She was hurrying - she only had about fifteen minutes before the feast began, and she didn't want to be late. She'd been looking forward to this for months. She wanted to know if Gryffindor would win the cup - the staff had covered the house point counters with massive sheets for the whole day to build suspense, and Mary had told Bess that walking into the Great Hall and being affronted with the winning house colours was the most spectacular sight. Between that, and the promise of piles and piles of Hogwarts desserts, Bess was incredibly excited.

She reached the librarians desk and heard the door creak open behind her.

"I saw it," a deep voice called out, the door shutting with a sharp click which echoed around the empty library.

"What?" Bess asked, turning around sharply, her hand already on her wand in her pocket, the books still held in her left arm.

"I saw it," Regulus repeated. "I saw you holding hands."

"How?"

"I was waiting for my class like a good Slytherin. It's not over, is it?" he asked.

Bess had the impression that she wasn't meant to answer - he already knew. But when he raised an eyebrow at her silence, she choked out, "I- yes, yes it is," refusing to meet his gaze.

She watched his mouth twitch, his nose wriggled slightly, and then his expression smoothed back to blank.

"I can tell when someone's lying to me. You must forget the family I was born into. My brother couldn't lie to me, and neither can you," he said in an emotionless tone.

"I'm not lying. We broke up," she lied. She new immediately that he didn't believe her.

"You insult me. Let me try again, I know it's not over," he replied. "

Bess shook her head. "Then why even ask? We've done what you wanted. We broke up publicly. No one will know."

"Why?" he asked cooly. "Why would you put yourselves in danger?"

"We love each other," she replied simply, unbothered now. It felt nice to say it aloud for the first time in months. It was just a shame that it was to Regulus behind the closed door of the library, rather than in public.

"But you're a Mudblood," he replied, his eyes widening just a smidge before they returned to normal. "Why would he continue to love a Mudblood?"

"You're the one talking to me," she said, pursing her lips in annoyance. She had long stopped caring when someone called her a Mudblood. She'd decided to reclaim the word and not let it harm her, but it didn't stop the wave of anger that she felt at her boyfriend's brother calling her it.

"I'm making an exception and speaking to the squib part of you. It's slightly less repulsive."

"Same thing in your eyes, though, isn't it?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a defiant look.

"True. Why would my brother debase himself like this? You, of all people?"

"Was that rhetorical? Because if not maybe you should ask him?" she replied, her jaw clenched now as she moved her hand more securely over her wand.

"He's bringing shame upon our family," Regulus said with a shrug. "I can't talk to him."

Bess rolled her eyes. "Your mum's just afraid she'll have another Andromeda on her hands. She already blasted him off the family tree, what does it matter what he does now?"

"He- he told you? He revealed-" Regulus asked, his expression torn between shocked and furious. "How dare he?"

"He left. He doesn't have to keep your secrets anymore. She blasted off Sirius and then Alphard when he left his fortune to Sirius."

"He should never have told you," he spat.

"Why? Do you really think Bella would be happy to know you've been talking to me, let alone about your brother?" Bess asked, intentionally calling Bellatrix by her family nickname. She felt like it would be the perfect insult to the evil witch. She suspicions were proved right when she noticed a slight tinge of red to Regulus' cheeks - he was angry. "It would seem as though you still care for Sirius."

"Of course I do," he spat after a moment. "In any case, you need to end it. Who knows what'll happen if you don't."

"I'm not scared."

"You should be."

"He's worth the risk," she replied shortly.

Regulus glared at her for a moment, before he took in a deep, measured breath, and said, "No he's not. He's a traitor."

"To you. But one wizarding family's traitor is another man helping to save the world from Voldemort," she replied.

Now, Regulus' mask slipped completely, any semblance of emotional control left, and his expressions betrayed him. He looked terrified and angry all in one. His face, already pale, grew paler. His eyes widened, his rosy red lips drained and became a light, bloodless pink.

"You dare to speak his name?" he whispered.

Bess nodded defiantly. "You'd do well to stop any association with him and his band of blood-thirsty arseholes while you still can."

Regulus looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone. But Bess knew that it wouldn't be her - he wouldn't, to use his own words, debase himself like that. She was sure that he thought of Muggle fighting as a lowly passtime, and would feel the wrath of his parents if he'd been found to have even touched a Muggleborn on purpose. He also knew, as the rest of the school did now, that Bess had received high grades in her Defence classes. It had been months since she'd had to defend herself in a fight, but the whole Slytherin House knew what had happened during the October half term to the three students who had attacked her. And since then she'd had hours and hours of duelling practice.

"I wouldn't be so cocky, if I were you," he replied, his mask of indifference sliding back over his features, smoothing them and making it seem as though he hadn't just lost his cool. "The Dark Lord has spies and agents everywhere. You should watch your back."

"Why do you think we broke up," Bess asked, her eyebrow still raised. "It wasn't just for my benefit."

They were silent for a few moments, just staring at eachother, until the door opened and a small, beautiful, blonde Slytherin walked around the corner, her eyes darting between the two students.

"Regulus," she stage-whispered, "the feast is starting. We need to go."

Regulus slipped his hand into the girl's and gently pulled her away, without so much as a backwards glance.

Bess stared after the pair, watching until the door closed. When it did, all of her composure left her, and she dropped the books to the librarians table in front of her and clutched a hand to her chest as she heaved in large breaths. For all of her thoughts that she was safe, she hadn't expected to have a conversation with Regulus then, and as the adrenaline left her she realised that she felt sick and afraid. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling that something bad was coming.

To get her breathing under control, she thought of how alike Regulus and Sirius were at points. Both refused to speak to each other, hating the other for their view points. Both were stubborn. But both were capable of love and care to those they loved.

Maybe one day he'll change, she thought glumly as she moved her books on the pile by Madam Pince's desk and left the library, the door swinging shut behind her.

Though deep in her heart she knew that he wouldn't - he would never see her as anything less than muck under his shoe. So why was she feeling so worried? What was she missing?

By the time she reached the top of the stairs to the Entrance Hall, Bess' head pulsed with an all too familiar pain. She'd managed to put off each and every time she'd had a vision headache so far, and hoped for a moment that this would be the same, but the pain in her skull intensified to the point of tears, and she knew she wouldn't make it.

Rather than have a vision in the middle of the hallway, she cast silencio on herself and ran as fast as she could up the stairs, taking each stair two, three at a time if she could. Her ten weeks of running training paid off and she managed to reach the portrait hole within ten minutes.

She quickly removed the silencing spell to scream the password at the Fat Lady, who looked horrified and began to admonish her for her odd behaviour as the portrait swung open. As soon as it had, she cast silencio again.

The pain in her head felt too much, more intense than before. The only thing keeping her going was the thought that if anyone saw her having a vision, none of her friends would be safe.

By the time she reached her dorm room she could barely see, and it was with the last of her strength and magic that she managed to shut her curtains around her bed.

A moment later she felt as if her whole body was engulfed in flames and her head was split in two.

Then, just as before, as suddenly as the pain had started, it stopped, and Bess' vision faded to black. Her last thoughts filled with Horcruxes.

xXx

Bess awoke in a large room. As with her vision in Malfoy Manor, she seemed to be lying on a gigantic rug. This time, however, there was no roaring fire. There were no paintings on the walls, though one wall was covered by a bookcase which spanned the entire width and height of the room.

She stood immediately, turning and searching for the inhabitants of the room. When she found them, she wished she never had.

If she hadn't recognised him from the books, she would have from the Boggart in their Defence class.

She couldn't see every detail, not that she was trying. She didn't want to step any closer than she had to, didn't want to see more than she had to, but his eyes, bright red in the gloomily lit room shone brightly, as if beacons of fire.

His large, pale hands sat on the arms of his large chair, his fingers stretching unnaturally across the end of each arm.

Bess felt bile rise to her throat and tried to gulp it down as she stared at Voldemort.

After two incredibly long and horrifying minutes she remembered that he couldn't see her. Couldn't hear her.

She sucked in a shaky breath and turned, trying to see where he was staring, his attention caught by someone or something.

No, someone. Bess immediately recognised her as well. She was tall, her long thick hair fell to the middle of her back, her dark, heavily lidded eyes stared unblinkingly, almost adoringly at her master.

Bess watched as Bellatrix finished speaking and Voldemort beckoned her towards him.

Unable to hear anything, Bess had to step forwards to try and read their lips. She didn't want to, but she knew she had to.

So she did.

Bellatrix's lips formed the words 'Gringotts' and 'vault' before they stopped moving and she watched for her master's reaction.

Bess, for the first and last time in her life, was grateful for the Black family's upbringing - every word was ennunciated correctly, and so easy to lipread. She supposed this regimented pronunciation and accent training - to sound above everyone else - was the reason why Sirius peppered his speech with swear words and slang. It meant he was further away from them and his upbringing. A verbal 'fuck you' to his parents without saying the words.

Voldemort simply nodded in response to Bellatrix's words, and Bellatrix pulled a key from her pocket.

She knelt in front of Voldemort and held the key out towards him and ducked her head, staring up at him from her submissive position.

Bess felt a light tug at the back of her skull and this time resisted it. Instead, she ran towards the wall of books, staring upwards, trying to see if any of the shelves contained a clock.

Her vision began to fade and she screamed out, "No! I need more time! I need to see more!"

The tug at the back of her head pulled harder this time and her vision blurred even more. She felt herself pulled backwards and felt as though she was floating, swerving, flying through the air backwards at a nauseating speed.

She felt herself slam into the ground, and sat up with a groan. Her blurry eyesight told her that she was still in a vision, and she almost cheered, until she realised where she was.

The dark room was cavelike, lit only by torches, and filled to the brim with... with things.

Bess could see much. It was even darker and blurrier than before, and it took her a few minutes of staring and squinting to get accustomed to the light enough to make out anything.

Just as she was about to give up, someone walked towards her. No, Bellatrix did.

She walked through Bess and continued down a tiny path, making her way further into the room. In front of her was an orb of light, which shone over mounds of galleons, sickles, jewels, and anim hides.

Bellatrix walked further into the room and took the light away with her. Bess, unable to see again, practically ran to catch up with the witch, even though she wanted to stay as far away from her as possible.

She followed through a small path until they came to a large shelf. Bellatrix stopped and, with a sharp wand movement, sent the jewels, crowns and tiaras flying. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small cup. She held it gently, as if it were a piece of glass, and carefully placed it in the now empty shelf.

Bess swore. She still didn't know when this was taking place, only that it was during the first wizarding war. Bellatrix turned and walked purposefully out of the room, Bess trailing after her, trying to find a timepiece somewhere in the room.

It seemed futile to Bess as they reached the door and she felt the tug in the back of her head, until she noticed a large ornate clock sat by the door. The timehands were broken but the stars which shone from the face told Bess all she needed to know.

Sirius had described his family clock to her over the winter break. At the time he'd explained passionately how he wanted to smash the magical timekeeper. He'd also explained how the stars told the year.

She stared at it until the hook in her neck pulled her backwards into darkness, and tried to commit the pattern to memory. If Sirius could decipher the pattern of the stars for her, she would know exactly when this was, and would finally, definitively, know when the last Horcrux was hidden within the Lestrange family vault in Gringotts.

xXx

Bess awoke to pain again. This time, wholly unprepared, and unable to muster the strength to find her wand and cast stupefy on herself, she had no choice but to writhe, scratch and scream until the pain finally began to subside.

She tried not to scratch herself - she knew that if she did, she wouldn't be able to hide it from Sirius, and she didn't want anyone to know what had happened - not yet. She also didn't want to run straight to Dumbledore - if she did, he might not let her go back home tomorrow with the other students. He'd want her to talk over her vision, and she didn't want to do that. All she wanted was Sirius. She wanted to be in his arms. To kiss him. To be with him for at least a day without the pressure and unhappiness of the war they were both so involved in. She wanted a moment of peace.

So she gripped the covers, bit into her pillow, and cried until the pain ended. She managed to, somehow, hold on until she'd scribbled down the random dots which she'd seen in the clock face. Once she had, almost to the second, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell unconscious.

A/N:

Next chapter - home!

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