Disclaimer: Chapter one

Updated: Tuesday 12th April 2005

Chapter Sixty Three: Another Boggart?

She could stand it no longer. For weeks, she had been avoiding Harry's eyes and made excuses to leave his company when he tracked her down. She couldn't even bring herself to watch Quidditch practice. Not when Harry would treat her so normally, as though nothing was wrong, as though her father hadn't been responsible for his parents death.

It was true that in another time and place Estella and Harry would have grown up like siblings. Estella used to think that the history their two families shared warranted at least a passing acquaintance… but now she knew the truth of her father's treason, she couldn't help but feel ill. She had been the one to seek Harry out in his first year, show him the evidence that connected their lives. He was nice to her after that because he said being around her made him feel a part of something he had lost, and that even though they didn't travel in the same circles or attend the same classes or live in the same house, he'd always look out for her like some sort of surrogate brother would.

Despite her Godfather's reassurances, Estella knew that would all change once Harry found out the truth behind her father's 'friendship' with his parents. She knew that for him to hear it from someone else and not from her would be even more destructive than from telling him herself, and yet she couldn't find the words. Every time she came close she'd either find some other place she needed to be or someone would come interrupt, looking to pull one of them away. Amongst being effected by the Dementors, scared about her father coming to claim her and busy maintaining her grades in class, Estella found it easier just to ignore it. To ignore Harry. However, things had gone on long enough, and he was starting to ask questions. He would corner her in the hall and ask her if he had done anything to anger her! Imagine, Harry feeling guilty for something like this. No, Estella couldn't let that happen.

It was time to tell him the truth.

Sneaking in through the teacher's entrance, Estella made her way towards the Gryffindor Common Room. The other teachers had been reticent about permitting a student of the school to have unsolicited access to the teacher's access points – she was not simply a child who lived with her Uncle on the premises anymore – but her Uncle, and now her Godfather, insisted upon it; especially in light of Sirius Black's escape and the threat he posed to Estella.

They entrusted the privilege unto her to use with her own good judgement, so of course she used it to sneak into the Common Rooms all the time. Passwords were such fickle business, and it wasn't as though she was seeking entrance to these exclusive areas to cause havoc. All she had to do was not get caught. McGonagall, for example, would go absolutely ballistic if she was ever caught in her house without the password. She figured today, however, that the purposes of her trip to Gryffindor tower today was justifiably an emergency situation because she was going crazy the longer she put it off and she knew if she waited around to get a password she would lose her nerve. All she wanted to do anyway, was leave a note somewhere where only Harry would find it to meet her some place private alone. She wasn't out to drag the boy-who-lived into a dangerous situation or lure him out after curfew, she just wanted to set up a meeting without anyone knowing about it. Even an owl would have been too conspicuous. Ron was too nosey and still too wary of her to not get involved if he knew.

It was dinner time. There had been a Hogsmeade visit that day, and having noticed Harry disappear with her Godfather for what the venerable werewolf described to her as 'extra tuition' she decided to invite Harry to meet with her during the following Hogsmeade visit when Harry's friends and upperclassmen would be out of the school.

Entering the deserted Common Room while the rest of the school were gleefully helping themselves to a second or third helping of chocolate pudding (with the Dementors surrounding the school Remus had insisted that, in his professional capacity as a Defence teacher, that he believed Chocolate should form a part every meal); Estella stepped out from behind the tapestry concealing the hidden teacher's entrance and started to make her way across the room to the stairs leading up the tower to the boys dorms. She was but halfway across the room when a slight noise from the other side of the portrait wall caught her attention. With the walls being very thick – not to mention heavily warded – she could barely hear it, but it sounded like a scratching noise. Curiosity getting the better of her, Estella drew from her impulsive Gryffindor influences (she supposed it was a side effect of being in their common room) and did the one thing she was about to regret.

She opened the portrait door.

Seeing the manic form of her father, knife raised, ready to slice another tear in the canvas of the Fat Lady's portrait, his face a mask of rage, Estella stumbled back in shock.

'Boggart… boggart' Her mind struggled to form a coherent thought as she fumbled for her wand.

Seeing her stunned expression, the man immediately stopped in his tracks and gasped.

"Estella?" A voice cracked from misuse whispered at her, betraying signs of a shock all of his own.

'What's the charm… what's that charm?' She cursed to herself trying to recall the charm to get rid of the Boggart. 'Wait a minute… the Boggart didn't talk last time… and this isn't the kind of cool dark place a Boggart would jump out from.'

Realisation clouded her features, her eyes widened in panic. She choked back a terrified sob as she kept scampering backwards, increasingly threatened when her father quickly entered the room and closed the mangled remains of the portrait shut behind him with a audible click. As his grey eyes locked contact with her own, full of regret, sadness and an emotion Estella couldn't identify as he slowly approached her, she suddenly realised her predicament. She was alone. With her father.

The child, who was paralysed in fear, managed all but a strangled yelp before the man had swiftly closed the gap between them and placed his hand gently, but firmly, over her mouth to muffle her cries.

"Shhhh… don't cry! Please don't cry!" The man pleaded in a strangled sob of his own as his other hand cradled her face so delicately it was as though he thought she might crumble and break in his grip. "I won't hurt you, child."

Estella's breath came in ragged breaths as she huffed in and out through her nose, her mouth blocked by his trembling hand. Inwardly, she was struggling with herself over what to do. Her father had yet to stop her from moving her hands… she could easily pull out her wand… but how to hex him when she couldn't say the spell clearly? Did she even want to stun him? To stun him would mean the teachers would know where he was and they would fetch the Dementors to give him the kiss. Scared as she was at that moment, she didn't know if she would be able to live with herself if she did that to him. And what if they made her watch? She didn't particularly want the Dementors coming anywhere near her again anytime soon. The very memory of their last encounter sent a violent shiver through her.

Her father had evidently felt her shiver too.

"Please don't be scared." He said softly, his voice cracking as a lone tear ran down his mud-stained face. Moving his hand from her mouth he cupped her face gently and stared into her eyes mournfully as he continued, his bottom lip trembling. "Merlin you're so beautiful… so beautiful…" he whispered. "I've missed so much… and your mother… you're so like your mother… I can't tell you how hard it is for me not to just hold you in my arms and never let go."

Alarm bells started ringing in Estella's head. 'Oh my God, he's going to try and kidnap me!' All the while this exchange had been taking place, Estella had been slowly inching her way backwards, her father keeping up with her, the pair of them crossing the room together like some twisted waltz. While she had resolved not to use magic to her advantage, she decided to try and pull away from him physically… to get away from him and hope that he doesn't follow her into certain capture. Pushing hard against his chest, she took a large step backwards in a effort to break away from her father; but it was no use. She had just backed herself into a wall, and her father, sensing the flight risk, had thrown his weight against her as gently as he could to pin her between himself and the wall. She wasn't going anywhere.

Resting his forehead against her own, the fugitive sighed audibly. Estella noted somewhat abstractly that her father's hair was even greasier than her Uncle's and that his breath smelt worse than her Godfather's the morning after a full moon.

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." Her father said in a voice so soft, even Estella with her keen sense of hearing had to strain to hear it as he moved his hands to grasp the smaller hands he had trapped against his chest. "Just don't run. Not yet."

That said, her father squeezed her hands in his own gently before surprisingly relinquishing them as he backed away, his hands raised in defeat. "I want you to trust me, Estella." He said as he created a comfortable – but still arm's length - distance between them, his movements shaking, but slow and unthreatening. "I'd rather die than see you suffer at my hands."

Estella had half a mind to tell him just how much she had suffered in the first few months of her life on account of her mother's death and his incarceration. But she couldn't bring herself to retort with such a scathing reply. Not when he sounded so sincere.

'Why trust him?' A voice cried warily in her head. 'The Potters did and look what happened to them!'

Fear bubbled in her gut again, threatening to spill itself over in the form of regurgitated shepherd's pie all over her father's already grotty shoes. Everything she knew about him just screamed at her to not trust him, to run away; and yet something kept her feet bound to the floor. It was no longer curiosity, it was something much deeper in her subconscious. A strange sense of calm that was silently urging her to hear him out.

"What… what do you want?" She said quietly, oddly trying not to sound rude.

Her father looked at her sadly, his hands twitching as though all he really did want at that moment was to hold her in his arms and never let go. The part of her mind that realised this admired his restraint.

"The rat." He said hoarsely, a strange edge to his voice. "The rat will set everything right again."

Estella's eyes widened. The man was stark raving mad! How could a rat possibly be of any relevance? Suddenly aware of the time that had passed and the tell-tale signs of attack that would welcome the Gryffindors back to their rooms at any given moment, Estella was overcome with a different kind of panic.

"You can't be here." She said shortly, her face reddening with embarrassment. "They'll find you… and the Dementors… you… I… don't…"

"Hush, my precious, precious, angel." Sirius said, smiling slihtly at the implications of her concern for him as he closed the gap between them once more to still her lips with his fingertips. A sigh.

"You are right, of course." Sirius said bitterly, eyeing the clock on the wall behind them with a forlorn expression. "I must go before they find me."

Estella nodded dumbly as her father raised her chin gently and looked into her eyes. "So like your mother." He said reverently, stroking a stray hair from her face. Leaning forward to press his lips against her brow; he then lingered there for a moment, inhaling deeply as though memorising every aspect of her being. Noises outside roused them from their thoughts as two sets of grey eyes flickered and settled upon each other.

Pulling away reluctantly, Sirius moved hurriedly towards the fire place, tugging on a light fixture to reveal a passageway – one that could apparently only be opened from one end. Perfect only for quick getaways.

"Remember," he said coarsely as he turned back one last time to look at her. "Remember the rat. Beware of the rat."

Estella could only stare after the man dumbly, captivated under his lingering gaze before he was gone; the passageway disappearing as though it had never even been there and none of what she had experienced had ever happened. Blinking her eyes furiously, Estella's breath quickened as her mind struggled to process her very first meeting with her father. So many things didn't add up… and as a result of the lateness of the hour and the adrenalin in her body rushing from her body as quickly as it had built up, Estella found herself leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor, her legs turning to jelly and giving way from under her.

Her body wracked with emotions, trembling from the effects of the unbalanced chemicals in her system, Estella slipped into shock. Wrapping her arms around herself to fend off the sudden chill in the air, she raised her knees to her chest and hugged herself tightly. Her head coming to rest on her knees, she struggled to slow the pace of her furiously beating heart, and as her breathing was forced to come in slow, shaking breaths, she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

Both physically and mentally exhausted, Estella Black fell asleep.

End Chapter: Another Boggart?