2. You too shine, Sirius Black.
I
It was supposed to be a happy Hogsmeade weekend where students could take a break from their sweating and exhausting studies and enjoy the sprouting spring. The world around them was closing in quickly and relentlessy. A dome of darkness was threatening to engulf them all in its vacuum like black hole of death and suffering. Every day, the Daily Prophet plastered the news of another attack on its first page, highlighting the victims' names in the headline. It was depressing, sorrowful and frightening. If you stopped for a millisecond to think that behind the name you had just read there was a living and breathing human being, with bones and blood and feelings and family who was no more, you couldn't bear the stone like weight that settled in the middle of your chest, threatening to choke your heart out of your ribcage. In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, breakfast had become a dreadful affair: students got to discover their family had been attacked from a newspaper, while they were eating sausages and bacon and talking about demanding homework and impending tests. Between the newspapers and the owls, the tables were covered in tablecloths of death and bad omens. People didn't eat with the same gusto they used to display in front of the gargantuan Hogwarts' meals; they chewed slowly, as if being voracious represented a lack of respect and tact toward the deads. The conversations were subdued and hushed — either out of respect or because you had something to hide and secrets to keep, particularly if you were a Slytherin — unless said conversations came from the marauders — who all did a great job at keeping up their boisterous and jester like facades. It was true that James Potter was slightly more subdued that year, being head boy and dating Evans, a fellow gryffindor and the head girl who had despised him till few months ago, when they had started their last year and suddenly had stopped teasing one another.
It was true that Remus Lupin was more worried than ever, aware he was an outcast who walked the Gaza Strip — yes, he knew about it — that separated the muggle and the wizarding world. He expected a bomb to drop on his head at any time — yes, he knew what a bomb was too, he was a half-blood. In itself, his blood status had become a problem with the rise of the pureblood supremacy tide, but this wasn't his first worry either. Once a month, when the Moon was full and opposed the Sun, Remus turned into a monster, a dangerous creature who — no, sorry, he didn't like to use pronouns that referred to people when talking about the wolf so let's say which, he could not control. His logical, rational, discerning brain disappeared, allowing his reptilian mind to take full reign of his bestiality and unleashing its raw animal instincts. If it weren't for Prongs, a magnificent stag, and Padfoot, a scary huge dog, he would be forced to spend those dreadful nights in an enclosed space, howling in pain on his own and biting himself to tame its inner animalistic fury. But Prongs and Padfoot hadn't allowed him to pity himself. They would be his wolf guards and they would all go out roaming through the Forbidden Forest at night, Remus sure that his faithful companions would tame him and would never allow the wolf to hurt anybody. Oh, yes, true, there was also a rat with them; But, frankly, what the use of the mouse was, nobody would be able to say. It was a miracle none of the other three huge animals hadn't decided to banquet with it — right, there wouldn't be much for a banquet anyway.
That day, James was taking a romantic stroll with Evans and then the two would eat a romantic lunch together at the Three Broomsticks — the more crowded the place you chose was, the safer you were; Peter had decided to stay at school to work on his homework and catch up on his studies — he was good, but not as bright as James — their gang leader or as shiny as Sirius — the second in command.
Remus had been set up on a date with Mary — a fellow seventh year gryffindor — by the combined and scary efforts of James and Lily. He didn't want to date anyone, he had said to James at multiple times; but his friend, intent on not allowing Remus to sulk and sink in his misery, had never listened to any kind of pleadings. Remus knew his friend meant well and just wanted to help and bring fun and joy to Remus' gloomy and depressing life. Now that james was dating the girl of his dreams, he felt it was his 'duty to ensure his friends found somebody to spend their eternity with', James' words. He was intent on marrying Evans and build a family with her — again, James' words. It was sweet and romantic and James realized his three friends had nobody; he felt like his engagement with Evans was some sort of betrayal toward the Marauders. They had been four boys tick has thieves who had shared tons of pranks and had spent so many nights together in their dorm, either sleeping or planning and working on their magical inventions, you couldn't even count them — let alone the full moon nights. They felt they were like a family and now James was slowly diverting his attention to dating. James was trying to balance friendship and romance, but Remus knew he felt bad for his friends; if they found a girl too, then the balance would be restored and James' guilt would lessen.
And so, here Remus was, sitting at a table at the Three Broomsticks with Mary, a girl whom he indeed liked to talk to. She was a muggleborn who spent most of her time in fear for her and her family's life. She needed some company who wasn't her usual group of girl friends, a group which had included Evans but now was going through the same changes in dynamics the Marauders were experiencing and Evans was probably — hopefully — plagued by the same hamletic dilemmas James was facing, Remus supposed. He didn't mind James' newfound love, but understood where his friend was coming from; he understood Evans' position even more. She had found herself a pureblood, which, in theory — and only in theory because James' was as outspoken as they come and he was as identifiable as the shining Sun at midday with 'death eaters kill me' written on his back — would guarante her more protection and safety, while her friend had been left defenceless. Marlene had a boyfriend too, and so Mary had been left to herself and it wasn't fair she had to deal with the pressure of what was happening all by herself. Their date wouldn't lead to anything, Remus knew it; but they would spend a very pleasant day together.
Sirius had been left to himself: he didn't mind being on his own. He was quite a solitary person, who had spent his last seven years in the company of the same four boys, despite many people, girls and boys alike, had tried to befriend him. The Marauders were always one of the main subjects of the ever turning rumour mill at Hogwarts, feeding juicy fertilizer to the prosperous plant of gossip, especially James and him, being the flashiest and loudest of their group. None of that had opened him up to outsiders. It was either the Marauders or nobody at all — Sirius feared they were more of an élite than what they wanted to believe. Now, the dynamics of their group were changing. James seemed to have finally conquered the heart of his belowed girl, 'his Lily', sickeningly romantic. Sirius didn't mind now James had a girlfriend, but he found it hard to get accustomed to a less present James. James meant the world to him and he had been his best friend since their first journey on the train. They had been inseparable since then; James had been Sirius' saviour — he had stopped him from jumping down a deep and unforgiving edge. With his light, James had illuminated Sirius' darkness; he had taken his hand and guided him out of his bleak personal inner forest, dodging thorns and nasty plants that wanted to strangle him and tear his flesh into tiny bloody pieces. Now, however, James had fallen in love and the girl he had yearned for had finally reciprocated his feelings. He was over the moon and Sirius was happy for him, but he felt like a limb was missing from his body. He figured it would fade, that he would get accustomed to share his best friend with the woman said man loved. It was unfair to be such an egoist, but James was all that Sirius had. He had no money — other than what his unkle Alphard had left him; he had no home, no family, no siblings — Regulus was destined to take the dark mark, Sirius was sure; he had no girl he loved, having ignored all the advances brought forward in his years at Hogwarts: he didn't care about love, had no strenght to love, to care for somebody else. He feared he wasn't able to offer warmth and compassion, understanding and support. He was a wrecked mess, after all; a shattered walking case of desolated inner desert where the Sun burnt your skin and made the landscape barren; where the wind threw hot and wratful sandy punches directly in your eyes and forced the ravaging grains down your throat; oasis? None in sight, none to be found. It was a deadly desert with dry scheletal carcasses and thorny plants that suffocated you in their strangling ivy like embraces, that acted like boa constrictors, till you choked your organs out of your body, popping them out one after the other, starting from your eyes; till you exploded your entrails out of your body — they would be the nourishing fertilizer that would sedate the soil's bloodthirsty unger.
Sirius walked slowly through Hogsmeade, not paying attention at what was displayed in the small shops. He didn't have anything to buy and, anyway, he couldn't afford to spend money uselessly. He had school to finish and post Hogwarts studies to pay for. Where would he live? What would he do? What would he become? An auror? Another sort of Ministry employee? But he didn't trust the Ministry and he hated sitting at a desk. He wanted to do something useful, something that would help people. James was a walking manifesto to heroism; he loudly propaganded his intent on fighting the rising foes and villains. Sirius was determined to follow his friend, but there was a voice, entangled in the thick and intricated texture of his thoughts, that suggested that there were many ways to fight and that he needed to pick one; one that would make him feel worthy, proud and motivated; a way that would truly help people. He didn't want to hide and go on undercover missions, that wasn't something that would help people in the way he wanted.
He heard a gentle sound coming from a small square. It had caught his ears maybe because it was so unfamiliar and uncommon in the wizarding world that he immediately wired toward the source of the music.
On a bench, in that unassuming square, there was a girl wearing the Hogwarts uniform in Ravenclaw colours. She was playing without needing to read a musical sheet, seemingly unaware of the world that continued to turn around her; unaware of Sirius' presence; she seemed wrapped up in a creative haze only she could have access to through the unfathomable nuances of art; in a vision induced by what she was playing, she dreamt of poetry and inspired messages which came from unexplored realmms where happy gardens mothered sweet flowers and where cheerful fountains said sprinkling jokes; where a sensual Sun cuddled the leaves; where a fresh wind kissed the petals and, impertinent as only the breeze can be, nuzzled its airy muzzle under the skirts of peaceful plants who protested with the indignation of having their intimacy exposed to the chirping birds; the birds who sang their tingling songs and played their beaky tunes while the fairies applauded and bowed, before retreating in their shelters well protected in the heart of sturdy oak trunks.
Sirius walked quietly toward that gentle figure: her eyes were unfocused: they gazed into nothingness and seemed to come from another reality. She transmitted peace and smooth grace, the grace that comes from kindness and not from practiced bodily stances you've rehearsed in front of a mirror till you got nauseated with it.
"Hello?" Sirius said, hoping she wouldn't startle. He didn't mean to act like a creep who slythered behind her back.
She looked straight at him with a presence of spirit that startled Sirius. Maybe she wasn't so aloof then: she had gone from dazed to present to the right here right now in just a fraction of time.
"Hello," she greeted amicably. "You're Sirius Black," she said matter of fact. I am Ellis Witchcraft — don't laugh!" But she was smiling herself.
"Witchcraft, hmm? I guess you live up to your name then."
"I do. But the funniest thing is that it's a muggle surname. Anyway, it's unusual to see you alone, without the full maned leonine crew."
Her choice of words was funny, but Sirius wasn't surprised. Many ravenclaws were creative beyond Marauders comprehension and some were as wise as old trees.
"James is engaged now, Remus has got a date and Peter stayed in the castle to study."
"And you are alone today. It's your time to shine then, you know, like Sirius does at night. So bright and exuberant, burning with energy and promises. Shall we go have a drink?"
Her frog leaping speech didn't disorient Sirius. He was quick minded and could keep up with far more twists and turns before he'd be lost in the trails of the human mind.
"Of course," he said, offering her his arm and helping her up. They started walking, still arm in arm, as if he were her escort.
"Which year are you in?" He asked, trying to recall if he had ever seen her face. She was younger than him, that was for sure. Maybe a fourth year or…
"I'm a fifth year who would be in her sixth, if only I were born a bit earlier."
"That's my same predicament. I was almost twelve when I started Hogwarts. I could have been already out, had I started in the year I turned eleven. How's OWLS preparation going on? How do you feel about them?"
"It's fine. These we are living in are such dark and uncertain times that exams seem so small and meaningless compared to what's going on outside. I could die at any moment, you know? Considering my blood status. This has been weighing on me more than my education, this year."
"You… have you been thinking about your death?" Sirius was frankly horrified and saddened that this gentle girl, so young and innocent, had been entertaining such gloomy thoughts in her mind.
"I know gryffindors believe themselves to be impossible to defeat, but I was sorted a ravenclaw for a reason," she said with humbleness. "I must be ready to go, you know, if it happens. I've written my last will and all the wishes I have for my burial ceremony."
"You scare the living hell out of me," Sirius said, opening the door to the Three Broomsticks.
"You of all people should not be afraid," she said, after they sat at a table. "You bear a name of brightness and a surname of darkness. Sirius, a star, the light; and Black, the dark, the shadow. A star can't be black; but, at the same time, it needs the darkness to express its full potential. The only time you can see Sirius it's at night, when the sea of darkness is at its highest tide; but Sirius always shines up there, unfazed and constant. See, you need both. You need the light to guide you through the night and you need the black contrast that the darkness creates in the background for people to see you."
This is…" Sirius paused. "I have never seen things this way." Sirius wondered if that was what being a true ravenclaw meant, if that was the genuine wisdom the house of the eagle was expected to cultivate. If that were the case, none of them would have found their home in blue and bronze.
"No, not all ravenclaws are like me. I am the more accentuated expression of our house traits." She had a knowing smile, as if she could read Sirius' mind; but he would feel if she were a legilimens. No, she just was very perceptive and receptive, the contrary of what most of the youngsters were at her age: obnoxious and oblivious to all that didn't revolve around themselves.
"Even five ravenclaws as wise as you are could make the difference," Sirius said, impressed and thoughtful.
"Look who's entered," Ellis said, having spotted James' messy mane and Lily noticeable red hair.
"Oi, lovebirds!" Sirius shouted, secretly enjoying — just a little bit — to bother his friend and to ruffle his romantic date.
"What are you doing here?" Evans said on the defensive, while approaching. She wasn't a fan of Sirius, had never been, although she had tamed down her bite and spite. He supposed she would get to like him with time. She had to, if she was planning on taking things further with James.
"I've a date of my own, as you can see," he answered calmly, not showing any sign of what he was thinking and feeling. Sometimes he just wanted to punch her, when she rubbed him the wrong way. Ok, that happened almost every single day.
"Hey Ellis, how have you been?" James asked, taking the girl's hand in his.
"I'm fine and I am glad to see you are too," she smiled at the bespectacled young man.
"Do you know one another?" Sirius asked in surprise.
"Yes, I've stumbled upon this wonderful singing mermaid and her group on multiple occasions. They favour empty classrooms on the seventh floor. I'm surprised you never noticed them. They are great performers. You should ask her to sing something to you," James told Sirius. "She's quite an amazing singer."
"I saw you had a guitar," Sirius recalled.
"Yeah, I sing and play the guitar, while another friend of mine plays the piano and the other the Cello."
"You should sing my song!" James said giddily, as if he had suddenly recalled a scene of his past.
"Do you mean 'Send in the Clowns'?"
"Of course! It should become Sirius' song too."
"I am not a jester!" Sirius protested, feigning outrage.
Ellis noticed James' female companion was getting impatient and annoyed with his boyfriend's attention momentarily diverted from her. Before the girl would throw a temper tantrum — young females in love could be a pain in the ears when they started with their rants — she suggested to Sirius they'd go out and sit outside. She could sing something to him and nobody would mind.