Note:

Thank you, maits18 and 1. TTP, for following and favoriting the story. Une-papillon-de-nuit, I appreciate your thoughtful reviews.

It took me a bit to post this chapter—I kept reading it over and over, thinking that something was just not quite right... but I've decided to keep it the same as it was, before. I think posting something I wrote so long ago is giving me a bit of an ego problem, so I apologize for the delay and I'll try to get over myself as I put up the next few chapters.

We're on our way to Grimmauld Place. I really love the name, which is a reference to the 19th century performing clown Grimaldi ("I'm Grim-all-day but make you laugh at night!"), who notoriously suffered from depression and some level of madness. It adds another layer to the darkness of Sirius Black's backstory.

Anyway. Onward with the chapter.

Four: Away

December 1995 - Malfoy Manor / The Forest / A Muggle Car / Number 12 Grimmauld Place

everything is nice. Draco is particularly nice. it feels the way it did fourth year when he and i and some of our other Slytherin friends—who really weren't the nicest of people but who were easy to misbehave around—went into the room of requirement secretly one night and drank a whole lot of something that left my mind tingling and made my surroundings warm and pleasant and slightly erratic. a vague thoughtlessness.

he asks me to keep quiet, so i do, tiptoeing and not making a single sound as we travel over the floor and down the stairs, through the great room and into the foyer. i tug a coat around myself and put on boots over my bare calves to serve his wishes. he wants to keep me safe from the cold outside, and i was only in a nightdress before as it is.

the grounds outdoors are washed in fog and a light drizzling rain flicks my skin. i must look waxen and one with the moon who hovers over us like a searchlight, cutting through the weather. he takes my hand and we run in the direction of the woods, the same way i'd taken my walk with mother on my first day of freedom. my ankles ache already but he urges me onward and it helps to have somebody to hold onto as we struggle over the damp terrain, lit only by the tip of his wand. the canopy keeps us out of the growing rain, but by the time we reach the river it has escalated to a downpour, and even the tree branches cannot shield against the cold barrage of droplets. we cross over the river, our feet slipping on the stones, but some force keeps us out of the current. for minutes it is only our racing breath and a force urging us onward, and my mind struggling to return to my body, but unfailingly remaining absent, away from the troubled lines of my brother's face. a distorted peace blankets my body and yet tears stream down my face and freeze over my cheeks from the cold, and i know not why. i cannot stop running

the edge of the forest arrives unexpectedly, and our pace slows as lights begin twinkling through the trimmed evergreen trees ahead. lamplight flickers through the dark and i watch my breath clouding in front of my face, slipping between struggling to re-occupy my body and allowing my awareness to float up and away into the dark firmament. Draco's strength is waning, flowing off of him with the rain. lightning cracks across the sky and thunder rolls over our small curve of the earth. the gods are at war this night. is it our doing?

the supple dirt beneath our boots thins and turns to gravel and then to an old cobblestone road, slick and dark with the rain, scintillating under the light coming from the post at the end of the deserted residential street. above the road, in a tudor-style house overlooking a humble garden, there is a single casement window, and beyond it, a Muggle woman, combing her hair and looking out at the night. her eyes narrow as Draco and i stumble out of the woods and across the short street in the direction of a vintage black Muggle car, light shattering off its metal. three vague faces peer through the foggy windows, only two of them recognizable. spotting us, sopping wet, Draco dragging me along by the elbow, his wand hidden away, now.

Professor Lupin opens the back door of the car and steps out, arms outstretched. with the absence of my brother's magic, the effects of the Imperius curse begin to wear off, and very slowly, i return to my threadbare body, the panic gradually taking over until i can do nothing but stiffen.

'Persephone,' pleads Draco, trying to clasp my wrists together, but i cannot allow him to succeed, and begin to writhe, my instincts taking over.

'no!' i protest, incapable of shouting, but fighting with all my strength against Professor Lupin's arms. but i am too weak. 'you cannot do this,' i tell Draco. 'you don't understand the gravity of what is bound to happen to you. think of mother and father, for once, if you refuse to think of yourself!'

'Miss Malfoy, there are Muggles sleeping on this street,' hisses Professor Lupin. 'Please cooperate with us.'

'i cannot—' i break out, but then his hand claps over my mouth and i can only whimper, my screams snagged ineffectively in my throat. they are all going to die at my own hands. the rain is too sharp to allow me the hope that this is merely a nightmare. Draco's eyes are trained up toward the Muggle woman's window behind us, his face pallid, and i know we have been spotted.

'You must be quiet' says Professor Lupin into my ear, an edge of mourning in the sound of his voice, and my body begins to drain of its strength. 'Draco, we will take it from here. Go and hide yourself, now.'

my brother looks sadly at me, and my eyes widen, tears streaming over my skin and over my captor's hand; though they don't do much damage; the rain is master of us all. 'Just take care of her,' chokes my brother, and he can't bear to look at me again before casting a final glance toward the window above, and turning toward the woods, disappearing among the tree trunks.

i try to scream and kick, but i am simply too small, and without a fair battle, i am forced into the backseat of the muggle car—it smells coldly of real leather, old cigarette ashes and dampness—by Professor Lupin, who shuts the door firmly and keeps hold of my wrists, restraining them as i writhe and scream; for what, i don't know.

from the front seat stare two faces, one, that of Professor Moody, in the passenger's seat, looking uncharacteristically overwrought, and a second, behind the steering wheel, that of a woman with red hair and sharp features and a freckled face, who i do not recognize. i refuse to acknowledge that my tears and screams are ineffective, so the ex-professor beside me is forced again to cover my mouth, holding my body tight against his shoulder while i hyperventilate. the woman behind the wheel forces herself to look forward and tears away from the curb while Professor Moody looks back toward the house from which the Muggle woman had been watching.

'He put her under the Imperius curse,' says Professor Lupin in explanation to the others. 'Poor, poor boy.'

'Remus,' barks Mad-eye, but he is ignored.

'In her own house, Remus,' whispers the woman, shuddering as she exhales, taking a hand from the wheel to rub her eyes, looking at me in the rear-view mirror in a way i cannot stand. i want to dissolve. i cannot scream loud enough; they only speak over me. perhaps i am imagining things, and i am not screaming at all. my throat will not hold much longer.

'I know,' says Professor Lupin, his arms straining through his tweed jacket, his voice low.

'Get a hold of yourselves,' growls Professor Moody. 'Faster, Nymphadora. That Muggle woman is bound to report an abduction to the authorities.'

'Molly is still waiting with the second car in Newbury, Mad-eye,' responds the woman, voice more level than either of the men's. 'Everything is going to be alright.' but i can hear in her voice that she's struggling to believe herself.

'Newbury!' bellows Professor Moody. 'Newbury isn't near close enough! Damned—'

'Alastor,' warns Professor Lupin, and Moody's rage is put to an abrupt stop. he grumbles something to himself and crosses his arms, looking out his window, his breath fogging at short intervals against the glass as his crazy eye rolls. i watch it turn to pure white in his reflection, and can sense him, keeping watch on me through the back of his head.

i can hardly breathe now, my weak body cramping from my fruitless efforts to escape, but still i summon the remaining droplets from the reserves of my strength and scream unintelligibly against Professor Lupin's hand. we are on a faster road now; i can feel the tires turning beneath me and the speed is dizzying. he looks down at me, the deepest pity in his eyes, and i squirm against his arm.

'I am going to give you an ultimatum, Miss Malfoy.' my hands tug at his wrist but to no avail. 'Stop moving a minute and be quiet, could you, please? It seems that you have something you'd like to say, so I'll agree to let you go if you'll only stop screaming, yes? Does that sound fair enough?'

i gulp, blinking away my tears and trying to keep my pulse down, nodding against his hand and swallowing until my heart is less swollen and back to its designated spot in my chest.

he watches me closely until my breathing slows and i apparently appear to have myself under control, though i doubt that i ever have or will.

the car skids over a rough patch of road, sending up a wave of water that spits against the window beside me. from somewhere comes a long blaring horn and the woman in the driver's seat cringes.

Professor Lupin nods his head and slowly removes pressure from my mouth, letting me go.

i swallow and cough and rub the tears from my face, trying to breathe, trying to appear rational. i must reason with them all, even though my last chance may already have passed. i imagine the Dark Lord and my parents themselves searching rampant through the forest. i imagine Draco, writhing on the ground under His Cruciatus curse, almost feeling the pain, myself. my breath threatens to hitch but i hold it until i have brought myself back into my body, back to the darkness of the car, back to the task at hand.

'professor,' i croak, and clear my throat. 'please. you don't understand what you're doing.' he raises an eyebrow slightly and i shake my head. 'this is going to get all of you killed. you cannot possibly sacrifice your lives for this. you won't be able to do anything about my... my condition. it is permanent, and nothing you do will reverse it. it would be better for all of you to take me directly back there, now, and go about your own separate business. i can withstand it. i can.'

the woman in the front seat's hair changes from red to a deep sincere blue, and by way of the rear-view mirror she and Professor Lupin share a meaningful look.

'You're out of your mind, Malfoy,' growls Mad-eye from the passenger's seat.

'no more than you lot are out of yours.'

i cannot help it; my breathing ramps up again and i cover my face with my hands. Professor Lupin touches my shoulder cautiously and looks into my eyes, trying to be stern, but i honestly just want to laugh hysterically at him, at everyone in the car, at the entire situation and fate itself.

this is all so bizarre. what's been done to my body surely has made me downright repulsive; never would i have expected people like them to offer their help in the first place. surreal. i should be back in the manor, in my room, sad and lost and aching, but at least safe. at least with a chance of life beyond the birth of the creature inside me. now the people i love may not last the day, the other occupants of this car included.

'Miss Malfoy,' says Professor Lupin consolingly, but still i cannot breathe. his hand clamps down over my shoulder, and he looks at me more gently. 'Persephone,' he says, his voice under a whisper. i look at him with stinging, accusing eyes. 'We all want you to understand.' Professor Moody huffs, but the woman next to him shoots him a silencing look. 'If there were no risk to you, then we would, of course, return you to your home at once. But as things stand, we are under a moral obligation to help you out of this danger.'

Professor Moody still doesn't turn around to look at me, but i know his eye is watching. his throat clears. 'It's not all about you, either, Malfoy,' he adds with his gravely voice. 'Of course you wouldn't consider that, being from such an incorrigibly selfish bloodline as you are, but it is our lives at stake, as well. That thing the Dark Lord put inside you, whatever it turns out to be, would have the entirety of the human race at his mercy, were it left in his hands. We're taking you out of his clutches for more than your own sake. For the sake of us all.'

my head shakes, body trembling from the inside, my throat closing around itself like a vacuum, knowing they are right. i am wracked with sobs. 'but he'll have you killed,' i stutter. 'he'll have my brother t-tortured—'

'Persephone,' warns Lupin, 'breathe and try not to panic, or I'll have to put you to sleep—'

'i'm not panicking,' i whimper, wishing i could shout, to make them understand.

but before i can try to control myself again or Professor Lupin can do anything in my defense, Professor Moody turns around in his seat and flicks his wand over my head in his impatience.

instantly, fog clouds my senses, slowly closing over me, encasing me in a sweet oblivious darkness. i hear him muttering something under his breath and Professor Lupin catches me against his tweed jacket as i fall, steadying my head on his chest.

'It'll be alright,' i hear him say, the sound faded, as though it comes from down a long tunnel. 'Just close your eyes. We're going to keep you taken care of...'

then, everything fades away and i cannot resist sleep as it casts its weighted veil over me once more.

'Sirius, there's no cause to boast; we all know you're the most level-headed of the lot of us when it comes to these matters,' snarls Moody, close to my ear, causing my consciousness to stir. aching springs out all across my body and i'm certain there must've been a car collision during the course of my magic-induced rest.

'Hush, Alastor. The girl,' hisses another voice, the voice of Molly Weasley, but her words are useless. my eyes are already fluttering open, blinking back the hot firelight casting itself eerily across the papered walls of this unfamiliar room.

a small gasp comes from someone close beside me, and i barely need to turn my head to tell that it is Ginny, my constant friend since the first night of the Sorting at Hogwarts, one hand holding my limp one, the other dabbing a cool cloth against my forehead. 'She's awake,' she says softly to the room, and any hint of further conversation ceases.

my vision fluctuates, then refocuses, and i look around at the people gathered in the room. Ginny is at her knees beside me, looking with that fierce intensity of hers into my eyes. Behind her on the love seat sit Harry and Hermione, Ron situated between them, and Fred and George, leaning against the tattered upholstery of the arms. Mrs. Weasley stands in the center of the room with her hands on her hips and her husband, Mr. Weasley, sits with a bandaged head in a rocking chair by the fireplace. The woman from the car earlier, her hair pitch black now, stands beside Professor Lupin against the far wall. Professor Moody stands at the foot of the couch on which i lay, his crazy eye unnervingly still, and Sirius Black broods in a pinstriped Victorian tailcoat, a steadying hand gripping the mantle over the hissing fireplace. all of them stare at me, blinking, blank, and it becomes unquestionably clear that i must be the one to break this silence. i look around at them in hopes of finding traction in somebody's face, but nothing is steady. even the flickering of the flames across the old wallpaper makes my stomach turn.

it is Ron, shoulders hunched in a miserable-looking vest with fur lining (probably the latest gift from his mother), who i select, at length, as my prey. 'looking dapper, Ronald,' i tease. he smiles with difficulty.

the entirety of the assembled group seems to let out a collective exhale.

Mrs. Weasley shakes her head a moment, looking at me as though i am a newborn and have just spoken my first words. Fred and George chuckle lightly and i see the corner of Hermione's mouth twitch upward, but promptly the discomfort takes over again, and i feel my heart quaver at the utter hopelessness of the situation. what am i to say to them to make them believe i have not been left ruined since they last encountered me? is there anything i can say? would it be a lie? how different have i become, really? is it possible that i really am changed, that the differences are only lost on me because of my own ignorance? the thought sends a chill down my spine.

'Sorry,' says Ginny, removing the cold cloth and pulling a blanket over my body. instantly i feel sweltering, but i don't say anything, i only smile at her, and put friendly consolatory pressure on her hand. just enough to make her smile, though i can see it is difficult.

Mrs. Weasley exhales and rubs her hands against her dress. 'Something to eat, then, dear?' she asks the air, and doesn't wait for my response before hurrying out of the room, apparently in the direction of the kitchen. i cannot imagine eating anything in my current state, but i hope that busying herself in the kitchen will at least help her to cope with the situation. i cannot help but close my eyes and swallow hard in guilt.

it is me. i am the situation.

all of us stare at one another, except for Sirius, who stares into the flames. at length, Harry clears his throat, shuffling his feet. 'So, then. How are you feeling, Seph?'

'Shut up, Harry,' whispers Hermione. 'Of course she's feeling downright horrid in every way imaginable.'

a weak chuckle makes its way in pieces from my chapped lips. 'it's okay, 'Mione. i'll be alright, Harry. how are you?'

'I'm—' he starts, but Mad-eye cuts him off with a grunt before he can continue.

'Now's no time for small talk,' says the interrupter darkly, his voice like gravel. 'We all have questions for each other, which can be asked and answered later. But there are some which must take priority. I'm sure you understand, Malfoy.'

i nod the affirmative, skin rubbing against the pillow beneath my head, sweat beading across my temple. Ginny nervously pulls the blanket off of me again and dabs my cheeks with the cloth. i manage to smile at her, though i'm sure nothing good will come from all these dramatic changes in temperature. i cannot wait until we are alone in a place where we can talk and be the way we were before, away from all of this. 'of course, Professor,' i say, and cough quietly into my shoulder, my skin cold and hot and everywhere between. 'but... where exactly are we?'

'We are at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London. This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, offered up to the cause by Sirius.' the mentioned continues to look unwaveringly into the fire. 'It is where you will be hiding until we can find a more secure place to transport you. But none of that is pressing at the present moment.' he looks down at me and the room seems to perceptibly grow colder. the flames shudder in the fireplace. 'It is our belief—'

'Your belief, Alastor,' interrupts Mr. Weasley, his mouth set in a hard line. i shift my gaze toward him and he nods in my direction, a reserved, tight look in his eyes.

'Very well. It is the belief of Sirius and myself, that the agent inside of you might cause You-Know-Who to be able to spy on the lot of us through your presence here. We've been looking—'

Hermione pipes up at this, cutting the Professor off, but he doesn't seem to mind, as uncomfortable and stuffy as he looks standing here. '...Looking through some of the Black's old spellbooks and there are some in here'—(she holds up a heavy volume which i only now notice has been balancing on her lap this whole time)—'that might help us to... to drive out the immortality. Reverse the process.' at this, she looks around in search of support, but finds none. even the eyes of Fred and George have darkened. 'And, well, to... to put the... the agent' —(i can hardly blame her for using Moody's more dispassionate terminology)—'well... to death.'

i have to think over what's just been said to ensure my ears haven't played tricks.

'but how could it posses such ability?' i manage at length, knowing even as the words leave my mouth that i'm in denial. 'it's just a baby.' Moody flinches at the word. somehow, this hatred, this weakness, albeit caused by all our discomfort, has given me strength to defy them all. i feel an upward surge of confidence in my argument.

but at the very moment when i feel the potential to gain an upper hand, Mrs. Weasley shuffles through the doorway, carrying a tray crammed with tea and various biscuits and sweets; more than i could possibly imagine eating, even in my regular condition. she sets the tray down on an end table. 'Ginny,' she says, and the two of them cooperate to help prop me up with pillows. 'Take a drink if you can, dear,' she says to me, the motherly manner in her hands as she helps me raise the flower-printed teacup to my lips making it impossible to refuse. she smiles after i take a sip or two, but i can tell from a place deep behind her eyes - a place i know she's trying hard to conceal - that she's utterly distraught over my predicament. and, of course, my presence only re-fires that distress.

i feel i've intruded. it's their holiday, after all. Ginny, seeming to read my mind, tightens her hand around mine.

Professor Lupin steps forward into the firelight, the woman from the car following him with her hands in the pockets of her jacket. she looks exhausted, probably from driving such a distance. his face is heavily burdened, the strain in his eyes accentuated by the way the light casts itself across his scarred cheekbones. 'Miss Malfoy, I understand your hesitance. But there are lives at stake, yours included... Speaking for myself, it would be good of you to give Alastor and Sirius a chance.'

i shake my head. 'it won't work,' i say. 'He already tried. to make sure it was really the way He needed it, to make sure it wasn't normal. mortal.'

the night is burned behind my eyelids, burned across my skin, an invisible scar, but very much present. when He had arrived and cast every possible curse in attempt to remove his heir from me, to kill it, relentless, not stopping for hours, ensuring that it was impossible for his plot to be countered.

'Oh, gods,' chokes Mrs. Weasley with a sob at my words, hand over her heart as though this will keep it from rupturing. 'You poor, poor girl. That monster... I cannot bring myself to imagine him touching you...' here she can bear it no longer. it's strange, looking at her, seeing how what happened to me can reduce all of them to scared shells of themselves, when it seems like nothing in my own mind. of course, there were difficult times, and there will be more difficult times ahead, but i made it through relatively unscathed.

but then i understand, when i look into her eyes. they think me insane. for being willing to return to Him, to subject myself to more pain, to more torture. they must see through me, to that part of myself, in hiding now but quick to spring out once more at His presence. that part that worships Him, that takes refuge in His darkness, His cruelty, His hatred. of course they can see it. and they fear me, as they should. yet i cannot change. i cannot fear Him. i cannot keep that hidden self inside me from wanting Him.

'Molly,' reasons Mr. Weasley from across the room, severing my train of thought. 'It's You-Know-Who's child—'

'Yes, Arthur, I know, I am not an imbecile!' she shouts, louder than i've ever heard her, the anger welling up in her chest. i know that feeling, below the ribcage, when you cannot breathe. her eyes strain toward mine, body wracked by sobs, searching for someone who is no longer here.

'Arthur,' says Professor Lupin, and the called upon eases himself from his seat, venturing over to Mrs. Weasley and placing his hands on her shoulders.

'Let's go somewhere else, darling,' he says to her, but she shrugs him away with the trembling strength of a mother.

'Molly,' barks Mad-eye, but she steels herself against the opposition and holds her crying back.

Sirius, at great length, turns from the fire, his eyes struggle to retain their usual twinkle, his hands in loose fists at his sides. 'Well,' he says, calling all the attention in the room to him, looking around at us all unashamedly in his admirable way, 'he might have tried, through his own methods. But now we're going to try, through ours.' his eyes focus on mine, all the kindness in the world summoned up in his gaze and projected toward me. there is no pity there, nor fear, which i appreciate endlessly. 'Please give us that chance. Give it to yourself.'

'Merlin, at least let her eat before, Sirius,' breaks out Mrs. Weasley, unable to control herself. 'She won't endure a second, all skin and bones as she is.'

Professor Moody shifts his weight and walks around the arm of the couch to stand over her. 'There is no time, Molly,' he growls, and makes a meaningful motion with his head to Mr. Weasley, who slowly hauls up his sobbing wife, escorting her out of the room into the kitchen once more. Alastor's crazy eye rolls and he looks around harshly at everyone in the room. 'Tonks,' he says to the woman who'd driven the car earlier, 'you will stay. But the rest of you. This will not be for the faint of will. If you do not wish to stay, do us all the service of removing yourself from the room.'

a moment passes. in the end, Fred is the first to stand. 'Dreadful sorry, Seph,' he says.

'it's perfectly alright,' i manage back, and he gives me a small smile before leaving the room. George follows soon after, along with Hermione, Ron and Harry, all of them looking at me apologetically, but really, i will be grateful for five fewer pairs of eyes on me, through whatever is about to take place. they tromp up a whining staircase somewhere out of my eyesight, not saying a word. Ginny, however, remains.

'Weasley,' says Mad-eye, but her hand only tightens around mine.

'I'm staying,' she says, and the weight behind her words doesn't allow him to resist.

'Very well,' he says. 'Sirius.'

'Wait,' interjects Professor Lupin, and the woman called Tonks, her hair a fiery red now, looks up at him. 'You ought to practice the spells before trying to actually carry this out. The possible damage would be irreversible.'

'You know as well as any, Remus,' says Professor Moody condescendingly, 'that You-Know-Who's strength grows by the minute. It's by sheer luck we haven't all been reduced to smithereens by this hour. We have no time for preparation. What passes will pass.'

Ginny looks around at the four adults in the room in distress. 'But, are you saying she could.. she could be killed?' the panic in her voice sends my sorrow over the edge. were i to be killed, i cannot say i would mind terribly. there would be one less person putting all of them at risk in this darkening world. but the pain and fear clutching her heart is also a firm vise over mine, if only for her sake.

'Ginny,' i say, and she turns to me as though i've already died, as though i'm on my deathbed. i very well may be. 'it will all be alright, Gin. i'm strong. i will make it through this.'

Sirius places a hand on her shoulder. 'Ginny, if there is a danger to your friend's life, we will put an end to its power. I promise you.'

Moody grunts at this, but Sirius throws him a dark look which he does not challenge. i know that, if worst comes to worst, Mad-eye would willingly sacrifice my life to abolish the potentially deathly dark forces inside of me. but all i can do for the moment is hope that Ginny is fooled by Sirius's consoling words.

really, though, i do hope i don't die here, with my best friend watching helplessly.

the three men draw their wands and triangulate around me, Tonks standing by with her own wand drawn at her side, waiting to interfere if necessary. 'Miss Weasley,' says Professor Lupin, 'if you would kindly back away from the crossfire.' i nod at her with encouragement and let her hand go, clasping my fingers together over my chest in the absence of her comfort.

'Ready?' says Mad-eye. 'You remember the wand-work... Three.'

Tonks fidgets and puts her hand in Ginny's.

'Two.'

Sirius's mouth twitches, and Professor Lupin's throat clears.

'One.'

each of them casts spells i don't recognize, all of them sounding light and ancient to my ears. at first i feel nothing, barely a tingle in my center. but then, slowly, as their voices grow in depth and intensity, chanting on, their words weaving an almost ritual tapestry, my vision begins to cloud and splinter around the edges, and the slight feeling of my body yields to one of being slowly bent, rending in two.

'Carefully,' warns Sirius to Mad-eye, who is looking more crazed than usual. 'Not too quickly.' but his words have little effect.

the pain catches in my throat but then promptly, before i can think of how to control myself, i am screaming, straining to be separate from it all, but inextricably tied to my body, unable to dislodge my consciousness from this pain, a gargantuan darkness taking over me, the light parts giving out with barely any fight, all the previous feverish heat vanishing and giving way, dissolving in the wake of the new, numbing cold, like pitchforks penetrating all over my body, slowly infusing hopeless night directly into my bloodstream. my heart slowing, speeding, slowing, slowing. black spots fill my vision, my eyes glued open, my breath fading in and out, my jaw unhinged in unimaginable pain, tears lodged in my eyes as i go deaf from the volume of the sound torn repeatedly from my chest.

the darkness is taking me under just when i hear something shatter close-by, and then Mrs. Weasley has burst through the kitchen door, screaming and clutching her arms around Mad-eye's neck.

'Enough!' she insists, her voice piercing through the oblivion surrounding me. 'Enough, the lot of you, stop this madness now! She's just a girl!' the harshness of her reprimand makes Mad-eye put an end to his constant stream of spells, and both Professor Lupin and Sirius promptly lower their wands. on the verge of unconsciousness, my eyes roll around the room and i attempt to focus on a particular spot on the ceiling above me but it is all the same and there is nothing to stabilize myself with and i am slipping...

'Quick,' says Professor Lupin, kneeling down next to me, drawing a bar of his infamous dark chocolate from the pocket of his tweed jacket. 'It'll stop you fainting.' when i bite into it, i feel a tingling warmth return to the far reaches of my body, and it helps my vision to become steady, though the ache in my limbs and the sharpness of my very blood takes much longer to wear away.

'Nothing?' says Mr. Weasley at length, a hand tugging at his hair, as though he'd like to tear it out. wouldn't we all.

'Nothing,' answers Mad-eye, heaving an exhale.

before ten minutes are out, he is gone from the house.

'It's not your fault,' consoles Sirius, who stays in the room with me, staring without end at the fire, while I lay weakly on my side, struggling to breathe steadily, my face heated by the flames. 'He's been in a foul temper as of late.' i smile over at him wearily, but nothing can serve as a balm for my terrorized nerve endings.

on and on for hours, even into morning and through breakfast, which i can barely pluck at, i can hardly force my legs to stand. through the rest of the day, i will myself to sleep, but none will come. i can only shiver and remember the darkness, feel it where it still pools in my center, within me, feeding off of me. i wish i would starve already.

the next evening, we all go to sleep early. in the room that Ginny, Hermione and i share, i strain my hearing through the walls, hoping to catch some whisper of hushed conversation from another room, but everyone keeps themselves eerily silent.

Ginny is putting on an extra pair of socks over her regular ones, as the night is cold and the fireplace downstairs, though magical, can only reach so many corners of the house untended. Hermione lays in bed on her stomach, twirling her hair with one finger and preparing to turn the page of a textbook laying open on her pillow. she's been steadily ignoring me all evening, but not coldly; i know that she's embarrassed after how lightly she treated my predicament with the spellbook and all when i'd first woken yesterday, and i harbor no anger toward her. 'Mione is the type you have to allow to come to you when she's ready, so i don't try to force anything.

Ginny hops around a bit at a loss for balance, and leans against her dresser until she gets both socks pulled up over her shins. i giggle slightly at her; my outward emotions have lightened up over the past hours, even if my heart hasn't. she smiles, shuts the drawers of the dresser without making much noise, and then sits down on her cot across the room from my own. i've been sitting against the wall, unable to lie down for the lingering discomfort in my body from the terror on the couch last night. her eyes narrow slightly, as they do whenever she's thinking hard, looking at me inquisitively.

'you don't have to pretend,' i chuckle at length, looking down at my bitten fingernails in my lap. 'i know i must seem repulsive now.'

Ginny's lips part to object but it is Hermione who speaks from the corner. 'Nonsense,' she mutters, without looking up from her book, and for a moment, both Ginny and i seem to be wondering whether she's spoken in response to my words or to her own complex train of thought. but then she turns her face from the book, proving the former possibility to be the case. 'You are nothing of the sort,' she declares. 'What happened to you was not caused by you, but by You-Know-Who. You were subject to his soullessness and that was not your fault, and it doesn't make you any less of a good person than you were before. Alright?'

'thank you for your consolations,' i say genuinely, but her words cannot keep me from feeling dark.

'We both love you, Seph,' says Ginny. 'And nothing that happens is going to change that reality.'

we all look at each other as it begins to feel physically warmer. i rub my hands against the silk nightgown lent to me by Ginny, and Hermione furrows her eyebrows in figuring. 'Must be Sirius,' she concludes at length. 'He's probably downstairs keeping the fireplace alive. It's an old sort of magic; no-one uses it anymore. They cool down unless someone stays up in the same room. He'll probably be awake all night.'

the mention of Sirius sends my mind down a different route. i wonder what the coming months will be like, trapped in here with only him for company. only once have i really met him, and he seemed alright enough, but still it worries me, the idea of being alone, and having the pressure of keeping up a civil relationship with a near-stranger. if we can't end up getting along—which i believe would be justified given our opposing pasts and my current condition, especially since it's at the hands of his enemy—then all hope of retaining my sanity until Draco comes to claim me will be lost.

but the words and presence of my friends are too warm to allow me to linger on those worries for long. Ginny looks at me with the greatest friendship imaginable in her eyes, and i know everything will turn out in our favor, no matter how long that takes. 'Catch some peace while you still can,' she advises, extinguishing the lamp magically and pulling her covers up to her chin. 'Mum let you off the hook today, but she'll be bent on stuffing you up tomorrow.'

in the darkness a smile climbs up onto my lips and perches there. i lay on my side facing the wall, smelling the coldness, the musty but comforting odor of the carpet and the wallpaper, hearing Ron's light snores on the other side of the wall.

something strange and once-lost stirs inside my belly, a warmth and brightness which hasn't been there in a long, long time-or perhaps has never been there, at all. slowly, as i stare into the darkness, it seeps out through my limbs like honey, healing my brokenness, restoring life back to my organs and my mind, like a cooling balm, like an autumn breeze through yellow trees. i fall asleep, surrounded by my friends, the heat from the fire below us warming me through and through, in blossoming faith that a thing called hope may exist within my reach, yet.

NOTE

Hello, all!

I really enjoyed rereading this chapter, since I'm currently working on a Remus story (Our Blackened Hearts), and it was interesting to see an earlier perspective on his character. So, what do you think? Will the love surrounding this dark unborn child change its fate and that of Persephone, as well?

As always, I'd love to hear from you.

Thank you for not plagiarizing my writing!

'Till next time,

On_Errand_Bad

6,805 words

19 November 2020