Chapter 10 – It's not where your from... It's where your at...

This wasn't happening, it couldn't be! thoughts flooded her mind and she stirred. Strong arms tightened around her, she was cuddled up against someone's chest. At first she recoiled slightly, but she felt her captor tense and hold on to her. She was pulled back into a warm embrace and she collapsed against it, giving in. 'An 11 year old girl against a Deatheater, she could've died' the voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it. 'Come on, we don't know who it was' another familiar voice replied, further away. 'Who else could it have been, think about it Remus' she gasped into her captor's collar, breathing in the smell of stale smoke and aftershave.

Lucien felt the girl stir. He stroked her hair and glared at Remus. His friend was standing looking out of the window, watching the crescent moon glitter across the lake. Lucien could see his battle with reason and anger. The girl chose that moment to whisper into Lucien's dark hair. 'Is…is it really you?' her voice sounded hopeful. 'Of course it's me' he told her calmly. Her arms tightened round his chest to an almost painful extent. She felt his muscles tense and relax with each breath.

Remus realised she was awake, almost running to the bed, he sank onto the mattress beside Lucien and stroked her black hair. She drew back and he studied her appearance. Her dark eyes glittered beneath that veil of black hair that was matted with dried blood. 'We're taking you back to our place' he informed her quietly. She nodded, unable to speak.

Lucien lifted her onto his broom and she barely had time to throw her arms round his waist before they shot towards the sky. Her vision shook as she clung on to Lucien and she closed her eyes tightly as the wind rippled through her hair. Lucien pulled the broom up and they shot towards the sky, following the trail of sparks that Remus was sending through the darkness. Meissa would have screamed at the top of her lungs had it not been for the hard air pressing against her face and her instinct telling her to just keep holding onto Lucien. This was worse than any roller coaster designed by man... this was insanity... what felt like a mist of water was showering them now - Meissa's skin was covered in a layer of thin ice...

... Lucien was scanning below them now, watching the needle pricks of light that were the only inclination to the world below... he decided to get closer to land, or they would miss their destination...

Remus flicked his wand at the stainless steel coffee-pot sitting on the kitchen counter - Black liquid instantly began filtering into the glass jug. Meissa slumped into a chair at the pine table, her face in her hands.

'Dumbledore explained everything about the attack and … about your friend' Remus' words echoed through the tinny silence. Meissa made no move to show that she had registered his words. Lucien sat limply on a stool, accepting the cup of coffee Remus held out to him. Meissa felt as though she was drained of any thought now, her mind was numb and she preferred it that way. Images of Claude and the others kept rising behind her closed eyes until she forced them open.

'They'll never forgive me... and I don't blame them'

'It wasn't your fault' Remus replied matter-of-factly, still with that same calm hoarse voice of reason that never faltered.

'What am I going to say to them... their friend... for three years' and these words she kept muttering over and over. Lucien could not stand to watch her, instead staring at the whirling black liquid in his cup, as though an answer would be there.

How long she had stayed in this room, she didn't know. She had reflected on everything, but still no reasons came. She was stuck, no matter which way she looked at it. Dragging herself up and over to the mirror she stared, repulsed, into its reflection.

She hadn't even washed her hair, why hadn't she…blood still matted it in clumps. How long have I been here? What am I doing? The faint scar along her cheekbone that Hayes had left that eventful Potions class so long ago was now raised grotesquely in the candlelight. Hollow eyes set deep in her face as devoid of expression. She could not hide in this room forever...

shone through the window into the darkened room, illuminating the dust that had settled upon the neglected surfaces. She listened apprehensively to the footsteps approaching her door and let out a groan. Lucien strode in, looking with distaste at the abandoned mess of clothes strewn around the floor, flicking back his sheet of silky black hair and glancing with a withering look at Meissa. 'We've got company, you need to get dressed' he told her quietly.

She glared at him, unable to stare him out. 'I don't feel like it right now'

'That's tough, this rooms in a state and so are you'

'Look, why should I have to, why can't you just…just leave me alone'. He sighed and sank on the end of her bed. 'Listen, I know your hurting but life goes on'.

'Don't even start with that crap' she shouted across the frozen atmosphere, her anger flaring...'You don't know me, you think you do but you don't. No one does, that's the way I like it'.

'Stop shutting everybody out!'

'Stop telling me what to do!'

'Look! Take a bath you'll feel better for it! I don't want to fight with you' Lucien told her calmly.

The water was hot, she smothered herself in soap. Trying to wipe shampoo out of her eyes, which were stinging, she stumbled blindly and slipped on the wet tiles. Cursing the cold air, she wrapped herself in a big red towel, wishing that somehow she could wrap her cold mind up as well. The mirror had steamed up and she wiped it with a shivering hand. Her reflection didn't look so bad - her hair was clean at least. Remus jumped when the girl came crashing into the kitchen. She halted at the door and stared at the woman sitting across from Remus who was now grimacing as he had spilt hot coffee down his shirt. 'Err… hi again' it was the pink-haired witch from that meeting so long ago, scrambling around the table to squeezed her hand earnestly. Meissa was momentarily speechless.

'Erm…I'm Meissa' her voice was barely a whisper.

'Yeah I know, believe me I've heard a lot about you, all good things' Tonks gave a sly wink and a cheeky grin.

Meissa couldn't think of anything to say to this, so she remained silent. She glanced at Lucien nervously but he gave her a warm smile back. Slightly relieved she made her way to the table, followed by Tonks. Tonks started to babble something about finally meeting her... to which she held up a hand 'Hold on! How long have you known about me?' she asked, her eyes narrowing. Tonks glanced nervously at Remus - 'Since you were born, since your name appeared on the Tapestry'

'What tapestry?'

'Why now Lucien...' Meissa asked the tall, thin shadow leaning against her wall. He seemed to shrug slightly. 'Because... your old enough to understand' his voice was a calm and solemn as ever, yet it reflected some of the bitterness he was trying to hide from her. He let out a sigh which was clearly visible in the moonlight, Meissa sat watching him as she hugged her knees to her chest. The truth of the matter was that there had been underlying rumours that she was as dark as her mother had been. It had been a big debate as to whether she would be allowed into Hogwarts... which was perhaps why Remus had agreed to be one of her guardians. Perhaps he had reminded Dumbledore of a few home truths - its not where your from its where your at.