Chapter 47: Hubris
The house was quiet, at least on the top floor where Sirius was staring at Regulus' door while leaning on his own. He was gathering the strength to venture through the door- as he always had to. He still didn't understand why they insisted on putting Calamity in that room. Moony said it was the quietest, most undisturbed place and therefore best for recovery. Molly said it would be best for Calamity to have a whole bed to herself so she didn't accidentally injure herself more. Snape said he preferred that room over any other because of shelf space.
Sirius rolled his eyes. Tonks was good at potions. Why did they have to ask Snape to help? He only preferred that room because of the decoration. Dumbledore may have made them call a truce, but Sirius would have preferred if Severus Snivellus Snape would stop coming to Grimmauld Place.
Unfortunately, the greasy man in question was inside the room when Sirius entered. Sirius did his best to ignore him (and deatheater decorations) by moving purposely towards Calamity's bed and sitting down firmly, taking her hand gently.
"She'd recover faster if you stopped interrupting," drawled Snape looking down his hooked nose at Sirius. Sirius grunted in return. He was not going to let Snape annoy him today. Harry was here (though understandably frustrated), Calamity was back and safe, and there was no reason to satisfy the git by engaging. As if sensing this, the corner of Snape's mouth twitched, a glint in his eye. He looked too pleased for Sirius' taste.
"Of course, I can understand your dismay since you couldn't help her from your cozy abode," Snape added, packing his vials into a black bag.
Sirius patted Calamity's hand a bit harder than he intended to, trying his best not to listen.
"Of course, when Potter goes back to school and the others are on their missions there won't be much to occupy your time. It'll almost be as if you were still in Azkaban."
"Harry knows if he needs me I will be there," Sirius growled, unable to resist. Calamity mumbled something and Sirius leaned closer to hear, but she fell silent again, brow furrowed in concern.
"Yes, and you've been so helpful so far," Snape smirked inspecting his final ingredients before putting them into the bag with a clink. "Killing Pettigrew, preventing the Dark Lord's rise, protecting the boy from dementors..." he paused and looked back at Sirius, a nasty expression on his face. "Oh, wait... You didn't do any of those things. Why did you escape from Azkaban again? Just to be a burden to your friends?"
"Don't you have some place to be," growled Sirius.
"Too right," He drawled, snapping his case closed and tapping it with his wand so it shrunk to a pocket sized container. "I am meeting Tonks and Lupin at the neighborhood pub to plan for missions that might actually protect Potter and his friends, despite their continued insistence on trying to get killed."
He glided out of the room, leaving Sirius to fume.
Calamity for her part, had no idea the interaction was going around her at all. Instead, she was occupied in her own mind. Instead of pleasant darkness, she was looking up from a spot of light on some sort of floor. She wasn't exactly sure how long she had been sitting there, but the world blurred into vision, coming into focus and lightening. She was in an old house, her childhood home, in America. She hadn't been here since she was, what? Seven?
"If you don't count all the other times you've chosen this spot for your dreams. I think it's five times this week."
Her father stepped from the last of the shadows, coming into focus as the rest of the room had. He looked as he had in the Albanian cottage.
"Yes, I know," he said with a sigh. "You've put everything back with rose tinted glasses, but kept me the same. Not a good sign for our relationship."
"You're dead," Calamity said plainly. Her head felt foggy, but she was mildly aware of a distant pain.
"The dreamless sleep potion usually keeps dreams away but when it wears off patients are known to have some visions. You happen to keep coming back here, with me."
"I know how the potion works," muttered Calamity.
"Course you do," her father said running his hand over the fireplace. He rubbed his fingers together, not pleased. "I wish you had cleaned up before we returned, perhaps it also speaks to our relationship."
"A psychologist now, are you," snapped Calamity.
Her father looked insulted.
"Don't speak ill of the dead, Clara. I'm a medical doctor, not a shrink."
"I'm sure psychologist everywhere appreciate your respect."
"Frankly, I don't care what they appreciate. Though, I do appreciate that this is the longest we've been together."
"What?"
"You normally wake up by now. You're still here."
Calamity's head was aching a bit. She could feel a faint throbbing in her thigh.
"You must regret something," he observed. He moved towards a door and opened it, peaking in. He pulled back to look at her. "Is it my death?"
"I'm not a psychologist either," Calamity reminded him.
"Shrink, Clara. You're not a shrink."
Calamity made an effort to stand but her thigh sent a flash of pain up her side and she groaned. Trying to ignore it she continued, "I don't know what I'd have to regret, I didn't kill you."
"Course not, but you witnessed it and everyone remembers the dead so nicely. It's only the immature man who wishes to live forever."
"No one lives forever."
"Not without powerful magic, anyway. There is no use crying over spilled milk, any way. The smoke exposure would have likely killed me even without the extra help from our friends."
She was able to stand, though she felt a throbbing pain coming from her thigh. She moaned and for a moment the room fuzzed out of focus. It passed, and the room returned.
"Dumbledore will have taken the paper by now. He'll have all the pieces," He father continued as Calamity leaned on the fireplace.
"And I suppose it's too much to ask you share them with me," she said.
"I've shared all I know, except that they'll need that wand of yours, and you, of course."
"Oh, good," Calamity said sardonically, "I'm the chosen one?"
"Don't be ridiculous, in war there is no chosen one, only corpses. Tom Riddle was an arrogant snob. He believed in wizard superiority, but also British superiority. He had supporters in Europe, even some in the far East, but he was certainly more inclined towards the United Kingdom. His hubris is your strength. Trust the wand, he won't have prepared for the quirks of magic it can do."
Calamity made a sound of understanding, testing her thigh. It didn't hurt as much now.
"Clara, do not forget what I said."
"When? Just now? The wand, I know."
The world was blurring again, then coming back into focus, then blurring once more.
"Hubris, Clara," her father said impatiently. "Hubris."
There were outside noises infiltrating her thoughts- voices from outside her dream that were making it harder to remain.
"Maybe it would be best if you moved on. Maybe one day he'll notice, but if not there is no point waiting around for him to."
"And I suppose you're taking the same advice?"
"Well, I have been keeping up letters with Victor."
"I'm impressed! Maybe you're right."
Calamity opened to her eyes and sat up, making someone in the room gasp. She stood, spotting Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger, both looking surprised, perhaps even a bit horrified.
"You shouldn't stand," Ginny said quickly coming around the bed to help Calamity.
"I'll get Sirius," Hermione offered.
"No, he-" Ginny began, but clapped her mouth shut suddenly, ears burning red with embarrassment.
"He what," snapped Hermione before Calamity could. She appreciated the girl's indignation.
"He told me not to tell," Ginny muttered.
Calamity looked at Ginny with an eyebrow raised. She had a guess: "He's left the house?"
Ginny said nothing but her ears burned even brighter, like some natural lie detector test.
"Oh Ginny, why," Hermione moaned. Her brow was furrowed in concern. "Harry will do something reckless if he finds out and we can't do magic, not with the trial and all that has happened!"
"I'll have to get him."
Hermione looked even more horrified than she had before.
"You can't," Ginny snapped. "If they find you, they'll kill you! You've been named! We heard last night!"
Calamity grabbed her wand from the table, rolling it in her fingers as she moved towards the door, ignoring the throbbing from her leg. "Do you have any other ideas?"
"We can tell the order members who are here," suggested Hermione quickly following her as they moved down the stairs.
"Tell them what," Calamity asked, taking the stairs two at a time, despite the wince of pain every other step.
"When we came in he said something about needing a walk to the pub," Ginny said.
They reached the bottom floor.
"They won't know what pub," replied Calamity. She tapped her pajamas and they melted into muggle clothes.
"It's the same pub Professor Lupin, Tonks, Mad-eye, and Mundungus Fletcher always go to," Hermione chimed in trying to grab Calamity's arm. "The Cheshire Cat."
"Thanks," Calamity said. She'd reached the door, opening it hurriedly before either girl could stop her. "Stay here," she snapped before closing the door behind her and moving into the street.
"Hubris," she muttered to herself as number 12 Grimmauld place disappearing behind her. She scanned the empty street- it looked as innocent as it always did. But, she knew that peacefulness was something of the past now that Voldemort was back. She moved into the shadows of the surrounding building and made her way towards the pub.
A/N: Don't Forget to review!
