Innocent.
The word swirled round and round in her brain, her eyes searching the parchement for the hundreth time to be sure it was real, to be sure, it wasn't a fake, a foregery. It wasn't.
Innocent. He was innocent. It didn't matter that the Ministry didn't decree it so, Dumbledore believed it, and that was enough for her. Sirius was innocent, and Peter, weak, pathetetic little Peter, he was the bloody one.
The miserable coward. How fitting that he should be a rat, how true to his nature. They should have known, she shuld have known. A dog doesn't turn on its own pack. But the rat certainly did. How many lives did that bastard destory, and for what? For power? To save his own skin? Was that worth making his mother cry over his finger in a box? Is that the price of fourteen lives, the orphanage of a child, the misery of all their families, and 13 years of pure, unadulterated hell for the three survivors? Was he the reason there was only three? Did he have something to do with Eva?
Celena shuddered and leaned against the battlements for support, the stone cold against her cheek. She fought a wave of nausea as her friend's face as she last saw it swam before her eyes, bloodied and broken. She hadn't thought of Eva in almost 13 years, since she dulled herself to the nightmares. She had never connected her torture to the traitor, how could she when they tought it was Sirius? He had been the one who had held her after she....she....NO!
Celena gripped the stone railing with whiten knuckles and and took great, gulping breathes into the wind, trying to choke done the bile threatening to rise. This was all on him, that mealy-mouthed son of a bitch! How easy it is to hate him now. Much easier than when it had been Sirius. How easy it would be to blame everything on him, to feel no guilt.
How much simpler it all would be.
She felt the chuckled well up within her and she didn't fight it. She threw back her head and laughed into the wind, a cynical laugh, but one filled with a morbid kind of amusement never-the-less. " The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel.." the words of an old muggle philosopher popped into her head. Well, she never had been much of a weeper. Neither had Sirius, he had laughed too, when they had taken him away, she understood why now. They were much like after all, she and him. They both appreciated the bitter tang of irony, and life saw fit that they should never want for a taste.
For all that, why had she not seen his innocence? Why did it take her thirteen years, and a signed document from Dumbledore himself before she would believe what was right in front of her face? What she should have known all along. Oh God, how it must have killed him to know that she and Remus thought him guilty. If believing he was guilty was like knife in her heart, then knowing he was innocent and she didn't believe in him was like twisting one in his.
She had made a terrible mistake. One she was willing to spend the rest of her life making up for, if he let her. She glanced at the owl perched next to her, pretending not to be ruffled by the wind. It had been waiting paciently to return with her reply for God knows how long. A reply to a request to re-enter a world that she once belonged to, and a fight she had never had the chance to finish. She needed to do this, she decided, make her comeback, reclaim her life. And help Remy and 'Rus strew the ground with rat entrails.
She felt the ghost of an old smile creep acrossed her face as she turned and made her way into her bed chamber, the owl in close pursuit. She surveyed the small , round room, and the large trunk at the foot of her bed. Shouldn't take too long to pack. The owl gave an indignant hoot and dive bombed onto her bed, landing in a puff of brown feathers, trying to get her attention. She laughed at its impacient expression.
"What do you think, feathers? Think Dumbledore would be supprised if I showed up on his doorstep after 13 years?" The owl gave her a look that stated quite clearly that she obviously was not in her right mind if she expected an answer. Celena laughed again, but his time the sound was soft and genuine, for he first time a long while. "I guess there's only one way to find out. Put the wizarding world on notice, feathers, Celena Morgan, the Untouchable Auror, is back in the game."
The word swirled round and round in her brain, her eyes searching the parchement for the hundreth time to be sure it was real, to be sure, it wasn't a fake, a foregery. It wasn't.
Innocent. He was innocent. It didn't matter that the Ministry didn't decree it so, Dumbledore believed it, and that was enough for her. Sirius was innocent, and Peter, weak, pathetetic little Peter, he was the bloody one.
The miserable coward. How fitting that he should be a rat, how true to his nature. They should have known, she shuld have known. A dog doesn't turn on its own pack. But the rat certainly did. How many lives did that bastard destory, and for what? For power? To save his own skin? Was that worth making his mother cry over his finger in a box? Is that the price of fourteen lives, the orphanage of a child, the misery of all their families, and 13 years of pure, unadulterated hell for the three survivors? Was he the reason there was only three? Did he have something to do with Eva?
Celena shuddered and leaned against the battlements for support, the stone cold against her cheek. She fought a wave of nausea as her friend's face as she last saw it swam before her eyes, bloodied and broken. She hadn't thought of Eva in almost 13 years, since she dulled herself to the nightmares. She had never connected her torture to the traitor, how could she when they tought it was Sirius? He had been the one who had held her after she....she....NO!
Celena gripped the stone railing with whiten knuckles and and took great, gulping breathes into the wind, trying to choke done the bile threatening to rise. This was all on him, that mealy-mouthed son of a bitch! How easy it is to hate him now. Much easier than when it had been Sirius. How easy it would be to blame everything on him, to feel no guilt.
How much simpler it all would be.
She felt the chuckled well up within her and she didn't fight it. She threw back her head and laughed into the wind, a cynical laugh, but one filled with a morbid kind of amusement never-the-less. " The world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel.." the words of an old muggle philosopher popped into her head. Well, she never had been much of a weeper. Neither had Sirius, he had laughed too, when they had taken him away, she understood why now. They were much like after all, she and him. They both appreciated the bitter tang of irony, and life saw fit that they should never want for a taste.
For all that, why had she not seen his innocence? Why did it take her thirteen years, and a signed document from Dumbledore himself before she would believe what was right in front of her face? What she should have known all along. Oh God, how it must have killed him to know that she and Remus thought him guilty. If believing he was guilty was like knife in her heart, then knowing he was innocent and she didn't believe in him was like twisting one in his.
She had made a terrible mistake. One she was willing to spend the rest of her life making up for, if he let her. She glanced at the owl perched next to her, pretending not to be ruffled by the wind. It had been waiting paciently to return with her reply for God knows how long. A reply to a request to re-enter a world that she once belonged to, and a fight she had never had the chance to finish. She needed to do this, she decided, make her comeback, reclaim her life. And help Remy and 'Rus strew the ground with rat entrails.
She felt the ghost of an old smile creep acrossed her face as she turned and made her way into her bed chamber, the owl in close pursuit. She surveyed the small , round room, and the large trunk at the foot of her bed. Shouldn't take too long to pack. The owl gave an indignant hoot and dive bombed onto her bed, landing in a puff of brown feathers, trying to get her attention. She laughed at its impacient expression.
"What do you think, feathers? Think Dumbledore would be supprised if I showed up on his doorstep after 13 years?" The owl gave her a look that stated quite clearly that she obviously was not in her right mind if she expected an answer. Celena laughed again, but his time the sound was soft and genuine, for he first time a long while. "I guess there's only one way to find out. Put the wizarding world on notice, feathers, Celena Morgan, the Untouchable Auror, is back in the game."