As usual, *~*~* signifies a jump between time periods…
Chapter Eleven: A Sister's Tears
*~*~*
Dear Aunt Sarah,
Elizabeth paused, pen poised in the air, glancing dubiously at the shaky words scrawled across the page. "Calm down," she instructed herself quietly before crumpling up the parchment and tossing it aside. I can do this. So what if it'll cause her pain? I love her, but I deserve to hear the truth, and it's her responsibility to tell me. Her hand was steadied after a few breaths, and she began again.
Dear Aunt Sarah,
I won't be coming home for Christmas. I need to stay here and figure some things out. Did you think I would never discover the truth? Did you really believe you could shelter me for so long?
Do not blame anyone for this – Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were true to their promise of secrecy to you. Unfortunately for you, the Ancient Magic paid you no such loyalty. If anyone will believe me, it will be you, because you are the only other who understands the heritage of our family, even if you thought it necessary to hide it from me – I discovered the truth about Samantha, about my mother, from a series of postcognition dreams. I love you; I really do, but I know I have a better chance of finding out more about my mother here than I do in a house that has refused to mention her name for fourteen years.
I am writing this to prepare you; the next time I come home, I expect to hear the entire truth from the "parents" I grew up trusting.
Your loving niece,
Elizabeth
Elizabeth bit her lip as she scanned over what she'd written, and tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. This will break her heart, she thought, picturing Sarah's kind, loving face faltering as she read. Just because she's technically my aunt doesn't mean I didn't consider her my mother for fourteen years. But she tensed at this thought. Fourteen years of being lied to, fourteen years of being hidden away so Sarah could have her sister's child all to herself. And that's why I can't face her, Elizabeth reminded herself stoutly, I can't go home until I've come to terms with this. I can't yell at her yet, I can't listen to her feeble explanations, I can't hear her talk about Samantha. I can't . . .
She sealed the envelope before she could have a change of heart. Half of her wanted to dash home that minute and force them to tell her everything, but the other half knew neither she nor Sarah would be emotionally prepared for the confrontation. Sarah had always been over-dramatic and touchy, and Elizabeth was, well, scared, to tell the truth. Her home life was the last shred of normality in her life. Of course, it was nothing more than a fabricated illusion, but the thought of destroying it made her shiver. Elizabeth jumped as someone knocked on the door to the dormitory.
"Elizabeth?" It was Hermione. "You coming to Potions?"
Elizabeth scrambled to address the letter before handing it to Saeli, her owl, and watching the bird float gracefully out the window. She watched until Saeli was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.
"Elizabeth?" Hermione touched her elbow gently, and Elizabeth turned. She nodded, and followed her friend out of the room.
At the door she cast one last look out the window. "I'm sorry, Aunt Sarah," she murmured.
***
"We're going to be late, aren't we?" Elizabeth asked as they exited the portrait hole.
"No, of course n—" Hermione glanced at her watch and gaped. They had one minute to get to class. "How did that happen? We'll never make it all the way down to the dungeons in time!"
"You were too sweet in waiting to interrupt me until I'd finished my letter."
Hermione threw up her hands in despair. "If it were any other teacher . . ."
Elizabeth grinned, ". . . two upstanding students like us would be able to win him or her over and avoid punishment."
"That is not what I was going to say," Hermione protested.
"That's right. You would beg for a detention to teach yourself a lesson," Elizabeth muttered as she turned and apparently fixed all her attention on an empty bit of air.
Hermione opened her mouth to retort but stopped when she saw the teasing grin pulling at her friend's lips. Instead she asked, "What are you doing?"
To her surprise, Elizabeth turned around, suddenly dead serious, and begged, "Don't kill me."
Hermione cautiously asked, "Uh . . . for what?"
"I know you hate them and I know you asked me to not learn any more, but really, this is our only chance to get to class on time."
It was an Intoned Charm. Hermione bit her lip, not trusting herself to speak as she watched Elizabeth mutter the charm then trace a door-framed shape in the air with her finger. She sealed the magic with a last command ("to the dungeons!") and a black portal appeared where she had traced. She grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her through without a thought. A split second later, they had stepped through and were standing right in front of the door to Potions.
Elizabeth was grinning broadly. "It worked!" she exclaimed to no one in particular. "I wasn't sure if I could ever master that one!"
Hermione remained silent as they entered the classroom. "It's a useful charm, you know," Elizabeth stated, anxious that the blank look on Hermione's face was attempting to mask displeasure. "And perfectly safe. It can only go places within the castle, and then it only takes you just outside them, so it would be useless to try to get into any private or restricted room. It's a school charm, designed for students. Perfectly harmless."
"Except to teachers like Snape, who would prefer to have a reason to punish us."
Elizabeth laughed, relieved, and she and Hermione got to work on the Levitation Potion they had been instructed on the day before since it required an entire period's time to simmer. Elizabeth's cheerfulness faded and it wasn't long before Hermione noticed she seemed distraught.
"You feel guilty about that letter you sent to your aunt," she said.
"How did you . . ." Elizabeth stopped, already knowing the response. Hermione was meticulously attentive to her studies, but even more so to her friends. "Yeah, I suppose," she conceded.
"Well don't worry about it. You've got a lot of pent up anger that you deserve to get rid of. You can't help feeling sorry for her, but really, if she'd just told you the truth from the beginning . . ."
"It's just – I should be a little more relieved. This will all be over with soon and life will go on, with no more secrets lurking in the darkness just waiting to jump out at me and turn everything upside-down."
Hermione frowned as she added a spoonful of Billywig stings to their potion and stirred slowly, waiting for her friend to continue.
Elizabeth finally paused in slicing the ciedoux root and murmured, "I'm scared, Hermione. This whole business should be over with, but I feel like it's still just beginning. There's this feeling in my stomach that something's about to happen, that something else is preparing to leap out at me, but I have no idea what. And for some reason, I want more than anything to just leave here and get as far away from Hogwarts as possible."
Hermione looked startled. "Hogwarts is the safest place you can be!"
"I know, but if I were somewhere else, then there would be less chance of you and Harry and Ron being harmed, too." Elizabeth shook her head then, vexed with herself for worrying Hermione with her silly, and most likely unfounded, fears. Before Hermione could protest, Elizabeth said lightly, "But I'm being ridiculous. Perhaps it's just the thought of going back to a normal life that's unnerving me." She turned to Hermione with a smile, but it wasn't returned. "What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked.
"Nothing," Hermione replied with forced brightness, but she quickly turned her back and wholly occupied herself with attending to the potion. She couldn't quite bring herself to dismiss Elizabeth's troubled feelings as easily as Elizabeth could, especially since they'd had quite a lot of proof lately that Elizabeth's intuitions were to be trusted. And contrary to her friend, she could not believe that this business was anywhere near resolved. What were Sarah's reasons for keeping her niece so sheltered? Who was Elizabeth's father? How was Sirius involved? What had happened to Samantha, anyway? And why did Elizabeth not want to know? There was something Elizabeth wasn't telling her.
*~*~*
Sirius, as usual, was not paying much attention in Potions class. But rather than being occupied with the customary plans to wreak havoc on the potion of some unsuspecting Slytherin, today he was deep in thought. The whole Samantha-Sarah situation was bothering him immensely. Not only was their intense sister rivalry affecting Samantha, but it now directly involved him as well. Arguments had escalated to a point that he could not go two days without having to console a sobbing Samantha, and she seemed almost reluctant to continue a relationship with him from fear of her sister's disapproval, and worse yet, because Sarah's comments had been demeaning enough to convince Samantha that she was not worthy of Sirius. Several times already had her confidence been so shaken that she had been on the point of breaking off her relationship with him. Something had to be done.
"Mr. Black! Would it be asking too much to have you keep your mind off Miss Satine long enough to make one simple potion?" The class erupted in giggles as Sirius, jilted from his thoughts, quickly turned his eyes from where they had been unconsciously resting on Samantha to his annoyed Professor.
"With all due respect, ma'am, I was thinking about her sister," he replied, to the delight of half the classroom, who glanced at Samantha to see how she would take this. Her face had gone from an embarrassed scarlet to an agitated white. She turned back her potion and attempted to ignore everyone.
The Potions Mistress raised her eyebrows. "Not a story I'm interested in hearing, I assure you, Black. Please get back to work."
Sirius nodded, and to the immense disappointment of his fellow classmates, did as he was told. There would be no diversion today. James glanced at his friend, who was now wholly absorbed with measuring ingredients and said lightly, "Dare I ask?"
Sirius looked up, an uncharacteristically solemn expression on his face. "I've made up my mind," he stated, "I'm going to confront Sarah."
"It's about time," James approved. "When?"
"Tomorrow in Hogsmeade."
"And then Samantha will be all yours, right?"
"As long as she loves me, I won't let her go."
James made no further response, but rather settled back into his own thoughts, coming to the conclusion that Sirius had done a lot of growing up over the past year, and that he was rather impressed.
*~*~*
Something was unsettling Elizabeth, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. As she sat curled in a fluffy armchair in the Gryffindor Common Room gazing into a roaring fire, she attempted, again and again, to settle her thoughts, so far to no avail. They jumped absently from, I wonder if Aunt Sarah's read the letter yet to Why does Hermione look so doubtful when I say this whole thing is almost over? and The Common Room is unusually quiet…oh, Fred and George are off at Quidditch practice… to finally settle on, If this is over, then what are all these dreams trying to tell me?
It puzzled her exceedingly. She had finally given in to Hermione's conclusion, unbelievable as it seemed, that her previous dreams had indeed been a form of postcognition, revealing to her events about the past that she should know. But if she already had discovered what she was meant to learn, that Samantha Satine was her mother, why did the dreams continue? Perhaps, she thought in a vain attempt to comfort herself, they're just normal dreams. But she knew that idea was ridiculous the minute it came to her. These dreams were of the same kind, there was no doubting that, but their message was not half so clear. Or maybe I just don't want to know what they're trying to tell me.
She forced herself to go over them again, to see if she could pick out any new clues. They all progressed along the same line: Samantha being torn from everything she loved into a world of darkness. In one, she was sitting with a group of friends in much the same place as Elizabeth was seated at the moment, laughing and chatting brightly. And her eyes . . . Elizabeth had grown to hate them. They were beautiful, always sparkling with an inner light, which made it all the worse when they were extinguished. Elizabeth shivered as she thought, Because that's what always happens. One moment Samantha would be bright and cheery, the next her eyes went dim, her features went pale, and she would be standing back looking at the group of merry teenagers as if from a distance. At first, she would appear not to care that she was estranged from them. She looked cold, yet almost satisfied and smug. But then she would scream and try to rejoin them, tears running down her cheeks in desperation, forever held back by the darkness, until gradually, all her friends faded into nothing and she was left, alone.
Elizabeth wanted to know what had happened to her mother, she really did, but she wasn't sure if she could bear the truth. Especially since the only conclusion she could draw from these dreams was that the rumors Ron had heard might actually possess merit. Samantha adored her friends, but then she had joined the dark side, and was proud to be separate from them, only to realize too late that she didn't want to hurt them, only by then, the Potters were dead and Sirius was imprisoned. It fit the dreams, but somehow, she couldn't imagine it being true. From what she had seen, Samantha was just too innocent to ever betray someone. If anything, her downfalls were a sweet naïveté and a disposition to be overly trusting and loving. She did not seem like the type who could betray anyone, let alone her own friends.
Sighing, Elizabeth summoned a blanket to her chair, pulling an old article from her pocket before wrapping the cover around her shoulders. It was another column she had found in Selected Issues of the Hogwarts Observer, and it had been bothering her excessively, although she could not pinpoint why.
But From Where Do I Get the Power?
by Lady Sam
I was overwhelmed by the response my article on Intoned Charms received, and was prompted to take the time to do a little extra research for all you dear readers. It turns out that the Ancient Magic declined rapidly when for the first time ever it was channeled for the personal gain of a wizard (sometimes known in myths as Morda the Great) rather than for the good of the land. This wizard, realizing he could satisfy his own selfish desires without using much of his own power, soon began to channel the Magic to become all-powerful. Upon using it for evil, the Magic apparently "broke" and could then only be used by Masters of the Magic, defined as "witches and wizards unable to use magic for evil, and thus able to use the Ancient Magic to empower their spells and help to balance the levels of good and evil present in the world" (Magic of Old, page 6).
Awful, isn't it? Because of the selfish desires of human beings this incredibly powerful tool which used to be available to all witches and wizards became limited to just a few. And since the Magic has been swiftly diminishing for thousands of years as more and more evil enters the world, we are left with so little today that many doubt its existence. There are wizarding historians out there who will tell you it was all just a myth in the first place. Which it is not, I can assure you. But if these 'Masters of the Magic' still exist, how do we find them? Do they even know they possess the gift?
It comes down to a matter of blood. I hate to admit it, as the whole obsession with blood and heritage has always seemed ridiculous to me (many of the greatest witches and wizards I know come from purely Muggle backgrounds), but it seems to be an indisputable fact: the Ancient Magic is born into a witch or wizard just as it was born into the Earth itself. I was (I will grudgingly admit) excited by this discovery. My family is rumored to be descended from the ancient enchantress Queen Ellianne of Lilwalnia, one of the oldest Masters of the Magic, and she in turn was rumored to be half-fairy, and the fairies were the first to channel the Magic. Perhaps, I thought, blind optimist that I am, I could use the Magic to learn an Intoned Charm!
Alas, no, there is a second qualification: power. Not just ordinary "I'm descended from a very powerful wizarding family" power, but real intense, extraordinary power. In the old days, all that was needed was goodness, but today, with the Magic so hard to reach, it takes a rare witch or wizard indeed to ever stand a chance.
The article went on, but Elizabeth couldn't read anymore. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. She had a terrible headache, and before she knew it, she found herself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire . . .
Samantha was bent over a tiny desk, staring out the square window in front of her at a cold, snowy night. A weak flame, struggling to maintain life atop an old and stooping candlestick, provided the room's only light. It was just enough to make the worried creases on Samantha's pale face dimly visible; the rest of he room was obscure.
She pulled out a quill, and after glancing distractedly around the room, began a letter on a scrap of parchment. For three tense minutes she went on like this – writing a line, whirling around and giving the room a terse examination, then turning back to the letter. When at last she finished, beads of sweat had gathered at the brow of her mussed, stringy hair, strands of which hung limply in her blank eyes. Only one line of the note was even remotely clear before Samantha folded and sealed the parchment, but it embedded itself in the mind of the dreamer: 'She'll have the power.'
So preoccupied was she that when she stood, her chair almost clamored to the ground. Pressing a hand to her beating heart, she walked until her back was against the window, and looking straight ahead, she slipped a hand behind her, pushing the letter through a crack at the bottom of the sill. A tiny owl outside picked it up, only waiting for Samantha's faint whisper of, "To Sarah," before flying off into the night.
Samantha blew out the candle and walked into the heavy dark of the ominous gloom around her.
Elizabeth awoke with a sigh and cursed herself for falling asleep. Another dream that she could not decipher . . . just what I need, she thought glumly.
*~*~*
"You go on in and grab us a table, I have, er, something I need to do."
Samantha shot Sirius a suspicious look and surveyed him critically. He looked nervous; clouds of snowflakes were billowing around his boots as he tapped his toe anxiously in the rapid downfall. "I have a Christmas present to pick up, and, um, you can't be there when I do," he added.
This did the trick. The girl's face lit up instantly, and she turned to go inside with a light-hearted shrug. "Well, don't let us hold you up, then. We'll have a warm butterbeer waiting for you when you return." Sirius' heart flipped over in his chest as she blew him a kiss and whirled inside The Three Broomsticks, cheerfully shaking snow off her cloak. The blast of warm air that had met him upon her opening the door quickly died away and Sirius was left shivering in the streets of Hogsmeade. He watched for a moment as Samantha flounced over to find a table, all the while chatting animatedly with Remus and Peter, who were chuckling at whatever she was saying. She gave a merry wave to Lily and James, snuggled at a table in the corner, and soon they were getting up to join the other three.
He wanted to be inside with them, to be a part of their joyful little bubble. He wanted to be the recipient of all her smiles and giggles, all her wide-eyed grins of pleasure, all her teasing remarks and playful nudges. But that's why I'm here, Sirius reminded himself stoutly. If I want her to be able to open up like this permanently, I have to put an end to this feud with Sarah. It would be worth it to never see Samantha's bright blue eyes cloud over with tears again, to never again hear her sob that she wasn't good enough even for her own sister. But as he glanced through the fogged-up windows one more time, Sirius had the unsettled feeling in his stomach that he should be inside, not missing a moment with her. What am I worried about? he asked himself. We're young; I'll have her forever and longer. As soon I finish this with Sarah, anyway . . . He set off up the street to find the girl who was the cause of all his heartache.
It wasn't long before he spotted her standing in front of a novelty gift shop, arms wrapped tightly around her shivering frame. He marveled for a minute how much she looked like Samantha. Her hair was a shade darker, perhaps, and she was a bit taller, but other than that, the two seemed identical. Sarah turned around as he approached, and he noticed another difference – her eyes, although blue like her sister's, were darker and not affected with the same bright sparkle. Whereas Samantha was always light and bubbly, it was obvious that Sarah had the more serious nature common to older siblings. She looked him over with those passive eyes and then said something which disconcerted the object of their gaze not a little – "Go ahead; tell me why you deserve her and I don't."
*
Inside The Three Broomsticks, Remus finally spotted a free table; the holiday rush had afforded few available places, and the others had been despairing of their foolishness in abandoning the table James and Lily had left. Lily, James, and Peter scurried off to claim the empty chairs.
Remus and Samantha, who were following behind, stopped when a hand reached out and brushed Samantha's cloak. She turned and smiled at a handsome, dark-haired young man seated alone at a table. "I was wondering," he began, a bewitching half-smile on his thin lips, "if you would like to join me for a drink. I've been watching you for quite some time now and I must admit, you have me entranced."
*
Sirius stared at her, shocked. "What? Sarah, I'm not here to tell you why you don't deserve her," he said, adding in an undertone, "Although you certainly don't."
"No," she replied, and Sirius had the strangest feeling she was holding back tears. "You're here to ask me to back off and leave her alone. If I can't be a supportive sister, I might as well not be one at all. It would be better for her to have no sister at all than to have one that makes her cry. That's what you were going to say, right?"
Sirius nodded mutely; she had pretty much hit it dead on.
"Well let me tell you something! Sammy and I have known each other long before you ever entered her life, and if you think for one minute that you have more authority over her than I do, you'd better think again, Sirius Black! I'm her sister and I'm pretty sure I know her better than you ever will!"
Sirius was getting angry; he had prepared himself to keep his cool during the confrontation, but he had lost all his determination from the moment Sarah had started talking. What was wrong with her, anyway? First she acts like she knows she's done wrong, now she defends her actions? "I don't consider myself to have any authority over her!" he retorted, the heat rising in his cheeks. "I love her, and I only want what's best for her!"
*
Samantha blushed a deep red. "Thank you, but . . ." she began, but he jumped in before she could finish.
"Come now. I'm sure your friends can spare you for a little while," he said in a smooth, confident tone. Remus took a step closer to his friend, his hands near her shoulders.
"Perhaps, but Sirius couldn't," she giggled.
"Sirius?" he repeated, bemused, although Remus couldn't help but notice the stranger immediately tense in jealously. "Is he another who's attempting to win your affection?"
His dark eyes were riveted on her as she gave a blissful smile, following the sigh of her shoulders and the twinkle of her eyes as if trying to absorb her. "He's already won," she replied, her eyes glazed over with happiness. "I love him."
The stranger raised his eyebrows darkly and said in that same gallant tone, although this time with a touch of bitterness, "I see. Forgive me for the intrusion then."
She turned from him, still absorbed in her thoughts, as Remus steered her over to their table. The young man turned back to his lone drink, but not before meeting Remus' eyes. They exchanged a dark glance, broken only by Madame Rosmerta's bustling by.
"That was interesting," Remus muttered, but brightened at the daze still apparent on Samantha's face.
"I love him," Samantha repeated wonderingly.
Remus grinned. "Yes, we all know that by now."
"But I don't think I've ever said it out loud before."
"No, I suppose you haven't. But now that you have, you'll tell him, right?"
She gave a thoughtful smile and seemed to light up at the idea. "I guess I will."
*
Sarah faltered, and her voice dropped back to a normal tone. "You think I don't love her?"
"If you do, you sure have a poor way of showing it," he replied bitterly.
"Does she think that?"
"That you don't love her? Good heavens, Sarah, after all you've done I'm pretty sure she thinks you despise her!"
"And . . . and does she care?"
Sirius glowered. "Of course she cares. That's why I'm here. If she would just take my advice and ignore you, we wouldn't have half so much to worry about. But you know Sammy, or so you claim to. She cares about everything. Especially the big sister she's grown up adoring. So when you turn on her and start calling her the disgrace of the family, it's no wonder it breaks her heart. I've never seen a person more distraught in my life. And over lies, nonetheless, because you know what a wonderful person your little sister is. You can't have lived with her and not have noticed."
"I called her the disgrace of the family," Sarah repeated, more to herself than to Sirius.
Further arguments were on the tip of his tongue, but Sirius was forced to stop when Sarah burst forth with a great sob and sank to her knees in the snow, tears running violently down her cheeks. He was frozen in place for a moment, but his regard for her younger sister soon convinced him to kneel beside her and gently touch her shoulder. "Sarah?"
She looked up into his warm, honest face, her eyes overflowing with tears. "I've lost her," she whispered in such a desperate tone that Sirius shivered. "She's my little sister, the person I'm closer to than anyone else in the world, and I've lost her!"
*
Samantha and Remus sat down beside the other three, who looked up questioningly.
"What's she so happy about?" James asked. Remus just gave a coy smile, and Samantha's thoughts were still elsewhere.
Peter piped up, "Mmm . . . the drinks are here!" Adding, in response to James' question, as he passed the warm mugs of Butterbeer around the table, "Sirius is out buying her Christmas gift, and it must be good because it sure is taking him awhile." He turned to his mug eagerly, putting his nose close to the shimmery liquid and inhaling deeply.
It was James' turn to look sly, as he was the only one who had been filled in on his friend's true plans. "Is he now? Well, I can't wait to see what it is."
*
Sirius was at a loss. This was not how things were supposed to turn out. He was supposed to confront Sarah, tell her how awful she was being and let her know that if she didn't back off, she'd have him to deal with. He was supposed to stalk off angrily, leaving the evil older sister shaking in her shoes, with the resolution never to bother her sister again. And here he was holding her while she sobbed into his shoulder. What is it with these Satine girls, he wondered, that makes them so difficult to just abandon?
"I don't know what happened," she cried, turning to look at him. "I love Samantha more than anything in the world, but the minute she got to school with me I could do nothing but be awful to her. I hate being alone, Sirius, you have to know that," she said, looking him earnestly in the face. "All my life I had this precious little sister who was inseparable from me, and then suddenly we're living together in the same castle, but I never see her. She's in a different house, a different year, has different friends . . . suddenly she's living her own life, completely independent of me, right under my nose. She was happy without me, Sirius. And there was nothing I could do about it. I had my own group of friends who would have laughed if I willingly sought to be with my 'baby sister' instead of them. I was so mad. I mean, why couldn't she just have been put in Ravenclaw, Sirius? Why? What right does that stupid Sorting Hat have to separate sisters? I miss her . . ."
"So you started verbally abusing her?"
"It made it easier . . ."
Sirius sat stiff and still, a frown on his face. "It made it easier because if you convinced yourself you hated her, it wouldn't hurt so much to not be around her. You wanted someone to blame for not having her in the same house, and as it's useless to blame a hat, you decided to blame her." She nodded meekly.
Then her voice rose in an impassioned sob. "I didn't know what else to do, Sirius! Believe me, I never meant to hurt her, I just got carried away, and, and . . . now she hates me! I was afraid that she would abandon me and hurt me, so I pushed her away myself and ended up losing her even faster!"
Sirius sighed. Nothing could justify Sarah's abuse in his mind, but he couldn't help but feel slightly sympathetic. After all, if Samantha started drawing away from him, he could imagine doing the same thing to lessen his pain. But that was different. Sarah was her sister; she should have no reason to fear Samantha's indifference.
As if reading his thoughts, Sarah whispered, "I know it's ridiculous to think I could ever lose her, being related and all, but every time I look at her, I just get this . . . feeling." Sirius shivered. Not again with this intuition stuff that Samantha was always claiming to feel. He was beginning to wonder if everyone in their family was this way. "I look at her and go all cold because I just know she's going to leave me soon," she continued. "I can't stand it. Why would she leave me?" The girl's voice rose shrilly, and Sirius sighed. "I feel like soon I'll lose her forever. And while I should be treasuring my time with her now, I just keep insulting her."
Sirius didn't like the implications of Sarah's words, but he wrote it off as resulting from her hysteria. "Hush," he murmured uncomfortably. "There's nothing to worry about. Samantha's right here. All you have to do is apologize; she's not going anywhere."
Sarah was, indeed, becoming hysterical. "No, it's too late! I've lost her! I've lost her!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Sarah, of course you haven't." He continued to hold her, awkwardly, until she calmed down.
Little did he suspect that at that moment, he was losing Samantha, too.
*
Sirius was taking much longer than expected. The boys had run off to the Quidditch shop, leaving Samantha and Lily chatting amiably while waiting for him. Samantha shivered as the door flung open with another customer and a blast of icy air met them. Her own butterbeer gone, she picked up what she assumed to be Remus' goblet and took a long sip, letting the warmth of the liquid seep through her bones.
*
Sirius, at that same moment feeling a sudden chill himself, coaxed Sarah to stand up and attempted to get her to join their table at the pub. She hastily insisted she would prefer to return to the castle, assuring him that she would seek Samantha out to apologize soon.
She hurried away, and Sirius was left alone, shivering in the snow.
*~*~*
The holiday season was fast approaching, and Sarah Satine was alight with joy. This had always been her favorite time of year, not for the reasons most people had, but for the simple reason that this had always been Samantha's favorite time of year. And there was no possible way to be anything less than merry when Samantha Satine got it into her head to rejoice. Sarah smiled nostalgically as she stirred her cookie batter. She and Sammy had made cookies every Christmas, the Muggle way, every year before they had enrolled in Hogwarts. Samantha was a terrible cook without her wand; perhaps that was why cookie day was one of Sarah's fondest memories. Samantha brought the joy (trying with eager optimism to overcome disaster in the kitchen every year, only to fail miserably and laugh as she pronounced her cookies inedible), Sarah brought the best-ever sugar cookies, and everyone remarked what a perfect pair they were.
If there was one thing Sarah could admit to preferring in the Muggle world, it was the cooking. Her talent of whipping up remarkable creations in the kitchen was made all the more impressive by the fact that she never once needed the help of a wand. Besides, memories of attempting to bake with Samantha were among the few recollections of her sister that didn't make her cry; she would be too busy laughing. This year however, she was a little more melancholy than usual, because for the first time in fourteen years she had no Elizabeth by her side. Elizabeth, who had inherited her aunt's talent in culinary arts, brought a cheer almost as vibrant, although slightly more reserved, than her mother had done in Sarah's childhood. For this reason, Sarah was excessively glad to see her Elizabeth's owl, Saelanna, come sweeping towards the kitchen window.
Wiping her floury hands on her apron, Sarah hurried to undo the latch and put up the sill. The owl soared majestically in and went straight for the unused dough left in a bowl. "Saeli!" Sarah exclaimed, ruffling the bird's feathers. "Now what do you think my little girl could have to say to me that couldn't wait until the school holiday?"
She tore at the letter eagerly, but stopped, petrified, as it fell open in her hands. She got as far as the first line, "Dear Aunt Sarah," before she began to scream. "Nick! Nicholas!" Her voice shaking, her hands going cold, everything swirling into nothingness around her, she was able to retain consciousness just long enough to be assured of her husband's coming toward her before collapsing into his arms.
Her last words before slipping into darkness were, "I've lost Elizabeth, too."
*
Author's Note: Wow; I'm so exhausted I don't even have the energy to apologize profusely for the incredibly long time it took me to update this. But things have calmed down a bit so I've decided to take advantage of it and finally put something up. Alas, no individual thank-you's this time, but I do have a great big hug for all of you for not complaining once that I've mysteriously dropped from ff.net ^_^ I might be concerned that that means you don't care, but Hollie's sweet messages have kept me from ever despairing of that (thanks! Are you in the middle of a big snowstorm right now that started Friday afternoon? I'm beginning to wonder how close we live…). Anyway… this chapter and the next (which is halfway done; it had to be written in conjunction with this one because they're closely related) aren't the most exciting, but are necessary to the plot. And after that I'll finally be able to get into the most eventful part of the story (which is completely MWPP, because, obviously, something happened in that time period to make Elizabeth's life such a mess now), so bear with me. Oh, and guess what? I got a new computer (because my dad's sick of me being in his office to use his), so now I can read fanfiction from my room! As soon as we can get my Internet connection to work, that is. But when it's functioning, I'll finally be able to write some long deserved reviews for you all! (Torrential Zephyr & T.H. – I'm practically caught up on your stories, I just haven't been able to review yet… everyone else, I'm coming, really!) Love from Rose @~~