disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Hello, everyone! This chapter has a bit of Harry's POV and it covers a lot in terms of time. Hope you all like it!
Escapes and Damages
The rest of the break went by uneventfully. Kreacher was found lurking in the attic, covered in dust, no doubt looking for more relics to hide. Sirius was satisfied with this explanation, but Arabella was not. Kreacher's demeanor changed after they found him. He was in a better mood, his mutterings reduced and he seemed to follow orders with little to no complaint. Once or twice, Arabella caught him staring at Harry vividly before looking away. Arabella wanted to mention this to Sirius, but his cheerfulness evaporated after Christmas and she didn't want to make it worse. The date for their Hogwarts return was approaching and he was now prone to fits of silence and grumpiness, often withdrawing to Buckbeak's room for hours. Arabella tried to talk to Remus about this, but he just told her that Sirius would come around eventually, that he just needed some time. It didn't happen.
Arabella did not want to leave Sirius all alone in Grimmauld Place. Remus kept leaving the house for long periods of time on orders from Dumbledore and Nymph was either in the same boat or working for the Ministry. Sirius was going to be all alone with Kreacher once they left. She didn't want to leave him and she certainly did not want to go back to Hogwarts. Umbridge would have probably forced another dozen decrees in their absence, there was no Quidditch to look forward to now and their homework pile must have doubled. If it wasn't for the D.A. and her friends, Arabella would have begged Remus and Sirius into homeschooling her.
She knew Harry was feeling the same way. He was dreading heading back to months of having to face Umbridge and Dumbledore, who wasn't even speaking to him. What made everything worse was the news he received on the last day. He was going to have to study Occlumency with Snape this term. At least Mr. Weasley was completely cured or else Arabella would have thought that their last day was a complete nightmare. Extra lessons with Snape on his free time? Couldn't Dumbledore have picked anyone else? Surely McGonagall or Flitwick would be sufficient enough.
"Extra lessons with Snape?" said Ron, looking thoroughly disgusted. "I'd rather have the nightmares!"
Arabella couldn't help but agree with him.
They were set to return to Hogwarts the next day on the Knight Bus. Remus and Nymph were going to escorted them after breakfast. The next morning, when Arabella wrapped her scarf around her neck, she felt a sudden rush of dread and sadness. She did not want to say goodbye to Sirius nor Remus. She knew that it was stupid and she was going to see them again after her exams, but she didn't want to leave them behind. She didn't want Sirius to do something stupid or reckless. She wanted him to stay safe and she worried that being stuck here for even another day would make him grow mad. She wanted to say something to him, give him some words of encouragement that would last him a couple weeks, but before she could say anything, Sirius beckoned her to the side.
"You worry too much, you know that, right?"
"Someone has to worry," said Arabella, shrugging. She sighed as she said, "I'm going to miss you."
Sirius's smile was grim as he clapped Arabella on the shoulder. "I know. I'm going to miss you too. Now… don't get into too much trouble and keep any eye out for anything suspicious. Write to me if anything happens… or if you just, you know, need to talk or something."
Arabella nodded and gave him a small smile. "Of course."
She gave him a brief hug before they were hurried upstairs towards the front door, surrounded by the Weasleys.
"Goodbye, Arabella, take care," said Mrs. Weasley, hugging her then Harry.
"See you Harry," said Mr. Weasley, "and keep an eye out for snakes for me!"
"Right – yeah," said Harry distractedly.
The front door slammed behind them. Arabella caught a small brief of Sirius before being face-to-face with the dark door. They followed Remus down the front steps. As they reached the pavement, Number twelve was shrinking out of sight. Arabella sighed, wishing she said something else to Sirius. At least she would see him again in a couple months, but that day seemed just out of her touch.
"Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better," said Nymph, throwing a nervous glance around the square.
Remus flung out his right arm.
BANG!
A purple triple-decker appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly hitting the nearest lamppost. A thin young man with sever acne leapt down the pavement and said, "Welcome to the –"
"Yes, yes, we know, thank you," Nymph said swiftly. "On, on, get on –"
As she shoved Harry forward the steps, the conductor goggled at him.
"'Ere – it's 'Arry –!"
"If you shout his name I will curse you into oblivion," muttered Nymph, shoving Arabella forward.
"I've always wanted to go on this thing," Ron said happily, looking around.
The bus was crammed with an assortment of mismatched chairs groups haphazardly around windows. Some were fallen over and others were thrown across the bus. A few witches and wizards were not happy at the sudden stop as custard cream was scattered all over the floor and someone's shopping bag slid down the length of the bus.
"Looks like we'll have to split up," said Nymph briskly. "Fred, George, and Ginny, if you can just take those seats at the back… Remus can stay with you…"
Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron followed Nymph up to the top decker, where there were a couple empty chairs in the front and some in the back. Arabella, Harry and Ron were followed to the back eagerly by the conductor. Heads were turned as Harry passed and when they sat down, all the faces were back to the front again. As the three of them handed eleven Sickles each to the conductor, the bus set off again, swaying ominously. It rumbled around Grimmauld Square, weaving on and off the pavement. Then, with another tremendous BANG!, they were all flung backwards.
Ron's chair toppled over and Pigwidgeon, who was sitting on his lap, burst out of his cage and fluttered down on Hermione's shoulder in the front. Arabella quickly grabbed onto one of the hangers from the ceiling, her body being pulled towards the wall of the bus.
"Just outside Birmingham," the conductor said happily. "You keepin' well, then, 'Arry? I seen your name in the paper loads over the summer, but it weren't never nuffink very nice… I said Ern, I said, ''e didn't seem like a nutter when we met 'im, just goes to show, dunnit?'"
He handed over their tickets and continued to gaze at Harry as the bus swayed alarmingly. They were overtaking a line of cars as their chairs slid backwards. The scene outside the window kept changing with each BANG! They were on the main street in the middle of a busy town one moment and then surrounded by tall hills the next.
"I've changed my mind," muttered Ron. "I never want to ride on here again."
"Listen, it's 'Ogwarts stop after this," said the conductor brightly. "That bossy woman up front 'oo got on with you, she's given us a little tip to move you up the queue. We're just gonna let Madam Marsh off first, though. She's not feeling 'er best."
"Shocking," Arabella said drily.
A few minutes later the Knight Bus screeched to a halt outside a small pub. The conductor went to go usher Madam Marsh out of the bus and the bus set off again, gathering speed until –
BANG!
That was a particularly nasty one as Arabella's fingers slipped from the hanger. She was pushed forward towards a couple who looked as though they were enjoying a peaceful nap. How they could sleep in a bus like this was truly a puzzle to her. Nevertheless, they were clearly not happy when Arabella landed on their lap and made it quite known to her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Arabella hissed. "Well, there's no need for rude hand language, sir!"
Remus and Nymph helped them off the bus with their luggage. They were standing in a snowy Hogsmeade and many of the passengers were staring at them through the window.
"You'll be safe once you're in the grounds," said Nymph. "Have a good term, okay?"
"Look after yourselves," said Remus, shaking hands all around.
"Look after each other," said Nymph, hugging Arabella. "And try not to get into too much trouble."
"Right, so, a minimum amount of trouble, then," said Arabella, smiling.
"Just enough as to not draw any suspicion," said Nymph, shrugging. "Got to live up to my legacy, after all."
Arabella rolled her eyes and then hugged Remus next. She whispered, "Take care of yourself and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."
"I'll try," mumbled Remus.
The seven of them then grabbed a hold of their luggage and struggled up the slippery drive toward the castle. Arabella glanced back at Hogsmeade as they reached the oak front doors. The Knight Bus was already gone and she wished she was still on board.
Arabella spent the next day in exhaustion. The night before she had a dream. She was stuck in a cold cell and a wicked laugh engulfed her ears. She woke up in a sweat at five o'clock and could not go back to bed. A part of her understood the dream, she knew who it was, but another part could not understand why she was having them and what it truly meant. No amount of coffee during breakfast seemed to help and Snape's droning voice during morning Potions made it worse. In between classes, many members of the D.A. kept approaching Harry, asking if there was going to be a meeting that night. Since he had his lesson today with Snape, Harry was forced to say that he was taking Remedial Potions.
"You take Remedial Potions?" asked Zacharias Smith after lunch. "Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn't usually give extra lessons, does he?"
As Smith strode away in an annoying buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him.
"Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here," he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith's shoulder blades.
"Forget it," said Harry dismally. "It's what everyone's going to think, isn't it? That I'm really stup –"
"Oi, Harry!" said a voice behind them.
Fred and George were making their way over to them.
"Come over here," said Fred, bring him over to one side away from Arabella, Ron and Hermione.
"Don't you two have somewhere to be?" said George, eying Ron and Hermione.
Hermione rolled her eyes before muttering something about the library. She seized Ron's elbow and dragged him off towards the marble staircase. Arabella made to follow them, but George stopped her, grabbing her shoulder.
"Oh, no you don't," he said, throwing his arm around her firmly suddenly. "How've you been doing? Good first day back?"
"It's been fine…" Arabella said slowly. "George, what's Fred doing to Harry?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," George said innocently. "Look, they're done."
"Done with what?"
Fred and Harry rejoined them. Fred gave George the thumbs up before the walked away. Arabella narrowed her eyes at them.
"What was that about?"
"Er – d'you want to come with me to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day?" Harry asked, looking uncertain.
Arabella wanted to laugh. "They came all the way over here just to make sure you take me out on Valentine's Day?"
"More like threatened me," said Harry. "Wasn't as bad as when they did it over the summer, but he did remind me what they're capable of…"
He trailed off for a moment and shivered. Arabella did laugh this time.
"So, is that a yes then?" asked Harry.
"I don't know," Arabella said in mocking tone. "I mean, Fred and George did have to remind you to ask me. Maybe… maybe I should be dating the twins."
"Both – both of them?" spluttered Harry.
"And what's wrong with that?" Arabella said simply. "At least they remembered when Valentine's Day is."
"Yeah, next month!" said Harry, the disbelief in his voice becoming increasing.
"But the notice has been up for hours, Harry, hours," said Arabella, shaking her head. She then gave him a pout and looked down at the floor.
"Arabella," said Harry, taking a step forward. His voice was calm and sweet. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "Will you do me the honour of coming to Hogsmeade with me on Valentine's Day?"
Arabella put her fingers on her chin and said, "I dunno… that tone almost seems condescending…"
"Oh, come one!"
Harry stepped away and looked exasperated at the ceiling. Arabella chuckled a little before looping her arms with his.
"Of course, I'll go with you, Harry. Who else am I going to go with?"
"Why don't you go and ask Fred and George, your boyfriends!"
Arabella couldn't help but laugh at his outburst.
"Stand up and take out your wand, Potter. You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of."
Harry got to his feet nervously. Both of them had spent the last hour or so discussing Occlumency and all of Harry's worst fears had been confirmed. Voldemort was skilled at Legilimency and was able to extract feelings and memories from just about anyone. Dumbledore wants him to learn Occlumency in order to block Voldemort, but wouldn't it be useful to understand and see what Voldemort was up to? He was able to see the snake's attack on Mr. Weasley and he could help countless others. But Voldemort now knows their connection and Dumbledore feared that he might take advantage of Harry during another vulnerable moment. Harry just wished Dumbledore would tell him all of this himself, not Snape.
"And what are you going to do?" asked Harry, gripping his wand tightly.
"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," Snape said softly. "We are going to see how well your resist. I have been told that you already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse… You will find that similar powers are needed for this… Brace yourself, now… Legilimens!"
Harry was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealously… He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn… He was sitting under the Sorting Hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin… Hermione was lying in the hospital wing, her face covered with thick black hair… a hundred dementors were closing in on him beside the dark lake… Arabella was in his arms, wearing a silky red dress… He cupped her cheeks as she pressed her lips upon his…
No! You're not watching that, you're not watching it, it's private!
He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office came back into view and he had fallen to the floor. One of his knees collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who lowered his wand and was rubbing his wrist.
"You let me get in too far," said Snape. "You lost control."
"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked. He dreaded the thought of Snape witnessing that moment with Arabella.
"Flashes of it," said Snape, his lips curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"
"My Aunt Marge."
"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand."
"I'm trying," said Harry angrily, "but you're not telling me how!"
"Manners, Potter," said Snape dangerously. "Now, I want you to close your eyes. Clear your mind, Potter. Let go of all emotion…"
Harry threw him a filthy look before doing as he was told. He did not like the idea of standing there with his eyes shut while Snape faced him, carrying a wand. His anger continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let got of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs…
"You're not doing it, Potter… You will need more discipline than this… Focus, now… Let's go again… on the count of three… one – two – three – Legilimens!"
A great black dragon was rearing in front of him… His father and mother were waving at him out of an enchanted mirror… Cedric Diggory was lying on the ground with blank eyes staring at him… Arabella was screaming his name as two Death Eaters dragged her broken body away…
"NOOO!"
He was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands, his brain aching as though someone had been trying to pull it from his skull.
"Get up!" Snape said sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"
"I – am – making – an – effort," Harry said through clenched teeth.
"I told you to empty yourself of emotion!" snapped Snape, looking paler than usual and angrier.
"Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment."
"Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord! Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily – weak people, in other words – they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!"
"I am not weak," Harry said in a low voice, fury now pumping through him so that he thought he might attack Snape in any moment.
"Then prove it! Master yourself! Control your danger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! Legilimens!"
He was watching Uncle Vernon hammering the letter box shut… A hundred dementors were drifting across the lake in the grounds towards him… He was running along a windowless passage with Mr. Weasley… They were drawing nearer to the plain back door at the end of the corridor… Harry expected to go through it… but Mr. Weasley led him off to the left, down a flight of stone steps…
"I KNOW! I KNOW!"
He was on all fours again, his scar was prickling unpleasantly, but his voice was triumphant. He pushed himself up again to find Snape staring at him, his wand raised. It looked as though, this time, Snape had lifted the spell before Harry had even tried to fight back.
"What happened then, Potter?" asked Snape, eyeing Harry intently.
"I saw – I remembered," panted Harry. "I've just realized…"
"Realized what?"
"What's in the Department of Mysteries?"
"What did you say?" Snape asked quietly. Harry was pleased to see that Snape was unnerved.
"I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, sir?" repeated Harry. "That corridor I've just seen – I've been dreaming about it for months – I've just recognized it – it leads to the Department of Mysteries… and I think Voldemort wants something from –"
"I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!"
They glared at each other. Harry's scar seared again, but he did not care. Snape looked agitated. When he spoke again he sounded as though he was trying to appear cool and unconcerned.
"There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you, do I make myself plain?"
"Yes," Harry said shortly.
"I want you back here same time on Wednesday, and we will continue work then."
"Fine."
"You are to rid your mind of all emotion every night before sleep – empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?"
"Yes," repeated Harry, who was barely listening.
"And be warned, Potter… I shall know if you have not practiced…"
"Right."
Harry picked up his schoolbag, swung it over his shoulder, and hurried toward the office door. He left without another word, wanting nothing more than to be with his friends and far away from Snape. His scar was throbbing painfully and no matter how hard he rubbed his forehead, a surge of nausea raised in his throat.
He found Arabella, Ron and Hermione in the library, where they were all working on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework. The library was nearly filled with fifth years in nearby tables, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside grew steadily blacker. The only other sound was the slight squeaking of Madam Pince's shoes as she prowled the aisles menacingly.
Harry was shivering as he sat down next to Arabella. He was extremely pale and his scar showed up more clearly than usual.
"How did it go?" whispered Hermione. "Are you all right, Harry?"
"Yeah… fine… I dunno… Listen… I've just realized something…"
Arabella glanced over her shoulder, watching Madam Pince sweep past them.
"So you're saying that the weapon," began Ron, "the thing You-Know-Who's after, is in the Ministry of Magic?"
"In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be," whispered Harry. "I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the same bit him."
Hermione let out a long sigh. "Of course."
"Of course what?" asked Arabella.
"Arabella, think about it… Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic… It must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence! Remember in the beginning of the year? You said it yourself – there was something through the door and that's why the Ministry arrested him. We just didn't think it was the weapon at the time."
Arabella searched her mind for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, you're right."
"But he's on our side," said Ron, "why would he try and break in?"
"Frame up, maybe?" Arabella said uncertainly. "Somehow… someone managed to frame him for this. A Ministry member working directly for Fudge or someone that just doesn't like Dumbledore. I don't know, but it is… something, I guess…"
"So, what's in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked Ron. "Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?"
"I know they call the people who 'Unspeakables'," said Ron, frowning. "Because no one really seems to know what they do in there… Weird place to have a weapon…"
"It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense," said Hermione. "It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect… Harry, are you sure you're all right?"
For Harry had just run both his hands hard over his forehead as though trying to iron it. "Yeah… fine… I just feel a bit… I don't like Occlumency much…"
Arabella rubbed his shoulder and said, "Well, you did just have your mind attacked by Snape. How about we head back to the common room and relax. It should be much more comfortable there."
But the moment they entered the common room, Arabella regretted her suggestion. The common room was completely packed with many students shrieking of excitement and laughter. Fred and George were demonstrating their latest bit of joke shop merchandise – Headless Hats. Several girls screamed, but everyone was roaring with laughter as Fred's head vanished underneath his hat. Hermione, much to Arabella's surprise, was actually impressed by their display. Harry, who was still extremely pale, left quickly for bed. Arabella looked on after him, worried. His lesson with Snape today must have been really terrible. Occlumency did not sound pleasant, but the thought of having it with Snape of all people made it even worse.
"Well, write your homework in your planner, Ron," Hermione said encouragingly. "So you won't forget tomorrow – Arabella, are you okay?"
Arabella slapped her hand on her arm. She felt both her arms prickle and ache. It was… very sudden.
"Yeah, um, I think… I think I'm gonna head up to bed," Arabella said absentmindedly as she gathered up her belongings.
"Well, write down what you have to do tomorrow before you forget. You both don't want to fall behind now, do you?"
Arabella and Ron glanced at each other.
"Er –"began Arabella. "I'll remember, I'm almost done anyway. I'll see you upstairs."
Arabella swung her bag over her shoulder and took two steps at a time up the spiral staircase. Thankfully her dormitory was empty for the time being. She did see Parvati and Lavender in the group, giggling at Fred and George's new invention and whispering to each other. Arabella made her way towards the bathroom, throwing her schoolbag on her bed along the way. She felt sick, her whole body feeling extremely small in her dormitory, as though it was going to somehow disappear within the walls. Her arms were hot and when she peeled off her cloak, she was bleeding through her white shirt. She felt a sudden and terrible urge to scratch her arms as her hands hovered over her scars. She filled up the tub with hot water and balled up her hands, trying to calm herself down. She sat on the edge for a moment and watched as the tub fill up, steams emitting into the air. She moved her shoulders in slow and careful circles before she kneeled and soaked her arms. The water was scalding but welcoming all the same. Arabella closed her eyes for a moment and let her body relax.
"Arabella! Arabella, are you in here? Is everything – oh!"
Arabella slowly opened her eyes, feeling muddled. Hermione was standing at the doorway, her silhouette sticking out against the bright light of the dormitory. Her hand was covering her mouth, as though she was about to be sick at any moment. Arabella didn't understand what was wrong with her. Why was Hermione acting like this?
"Wha – what happened?"
Arabella glanced down at the tub and stumbled backwards. The whole tub – to her extreme horror – was unexpectedly covered in blood – her blood. And it was now splattered on the floor and the tub was surely stained and – and –
"I – I didn't –"
Arabella did not know what to say, but felt as though she owed an apology. But what did she have to apologize for? She did not do this on purpose. This was an accident and out of her control. It has to be.
"I'll – I'll get the medi – medicine," spluttered Hermione, hurrying off.
Arabella pulled the water stopper and took out her wand. She began stuttering the Cleaning Charm underneath her breath, making sure the tub would not stain red. If anyone else saw this, she wouldn't be able to explain herself. Hermione came hurrying in a few moments later with a towel, a new shirt, bandages and a container of her medicine.
"I've never seen it this bad before," Hermione said in a hush voice. "Is everything all right?"
"I don't know," Arabella said instantly. She wiped her arms and made a note to buy a new towel. She stared at her arms for a moment and thought about it. "Sometimes… sometimes I feel as though… I just… I think me and Bellatrix are connected."
Hermione looked up sharply. "Connected? Like Harry and –"
"I don't know," Arabella said swiftly. "I don't think I'm connected like that. But… I've always had strange dreams ever since that night and I don't think it's possible, but –"
"It's not entirely impossible," finished Hermione.
"Exactly," said Arabella as she began applying medicine on her arms.
"Your scars are not exactly normal," continued Hermione, eying her scars with a slight frown. "But Harry's scar was made by magic and yours were not. There still might be a connection between you two, I'm not saying there isn't per say, and it might not be as strong as Harry and Voldemort's, but what does… what does this –"Hermione indicated at Arabella's bloody arms " – mean then?"
Arabella didn't have to think about the answer. Somehow, she knew that her next few words were absolutely true.
"Something bad happened," Arabella said quietly, her breath coming in rapidly. "I don't know what, but this is not normal, even for me, and I… Honestly, Hermione, I'm a little scared."
Hermione didn't say anything. She helped Arabella with her bandages and cleaned up the floor of the bathroom. She then helped Arabella towards her bed and mumbled something about getting some sleep. Arabella nodded nebulously and slumped against her pillow, wincing as her shoulders began throbbing. She could not help but feel as though the next morning would bring bad news. She was not wrong.
Arabella woke up the morning groggy and annoyed. Her head was throbbing and her nose was blocked. Sleep did not come easy for her. Her dreams were once again filled with gloomy skies, thunder clashing around her and a maniacal laugh that somehow emitted from her own mouth.
Hermione, Lavender and Parvati weren't there when she woke up. Arabella looked at her watch and groan. She only had half an hour left of breakfast and if she didn't get down there right now, all the food would be gone. She quickly changed and stuffed some bandages into her bag, making a note to find some time throughout the day to change them.
Entering the Great Hall was a strange experience. The moment she walked over the threshold, she felt a strange number of people staring at her. Some looked over, confused and expecting some sort of spectacle, while others whispered to their neighbour, jabbing their thumb at her. One particular student at the Ravenclaw table looked over at her, puzzled at the other student's reaction, before their housemate came over and showed them something in the Daily Prophet, pointing and whispering in their ear. Arabella was unnerved by this as she realized that a great number of students had a copy of today's Prophet and were staring at the front page intently. She gripped her bag tightly and headed towards the Gryffindor table.
"What's going on?" Arabella asked, dropping her bag beside Ron.
"Nothing," Hermione said quickly, stuffing the Daily Prophet into her bag. "Double Charms and double Transfiguration today. I hope Professor Flitwick goes over Silencing Charms again before our –"
"What's going on?" Arabella repeated, her voice rising.
"Nothing," said Harry. "Here, have some food."
Arabella shoved her plate away before he could start piling some eggs on. Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, making Arabella's temper rise. They were her friends. Why weren't they telling her the truth?
"What was in the Daily Prophet?" asked Arabella, staring intently at her friends.
"It was nothing," Ron said hastily. "Absolutely nothing, just your run of the mill –"
Arabella got up from her seat in a haste and glared at the three of them. If they weren't going to tell her the truth, then she'll just have to find it herself. She began walking down the length of the Gryffindor table, peering at the table carefully. Fred, George and Lee were huddled around their copy of Daily Prophet and none of them were paying attention to her. Immediately, she snuck up behind Fred and snatched the Prophet from the table. Fred let out a loud yell before seeing who it was.
"Oh," he said quietly.
Arabella looked at him for a moment before turning her attention to the newspaper.
Oh, God, she thought.
It was as though everything in the world went still. The people around her went quiet, the air around her seemed thin and her insides froze. All her happiness, all her hope and love and dreams, they were sucked out of her. She would rather have a dementor on the school grounds because she knew how to get rid of them. She doesn't know how to get rid of this drowning feeling inside of her.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS
The front page held ten black-and-white photographs. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban. There were nine wizards and one witch, all either silently jeering and sneering at her or looking extremely bored.
Antonin Dolohov, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett, was captioned underneath a wizard with a long, twisted face. He looked as though he was yelling at whoever took his photo.
Augustus Rookwood, convicted of leaking Ministry Magic Secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The man had greasy hair and looked bored as he leaned against the edge of his picture.
But Arabella's eyes were drawn to the lone witch in the center of the page. An act that did not surprise her one bit. Her once sleek and thick hair was now unkept and shaggy. She was glaring up at Arabella through her heavily lidded eyes with an arrogant smile on her thin mouth. Though she was retained bits of good looks, Azkaban took the rest of her beauty away. She was a shadow of her former self.
Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture of Arabella Black, and Frank and Alice Longbottom, and the torture and murder of Kassandra Anastas.
"Ara – Arabella?" Harry said tentatively.
Arabella looked up from the Daily Prophet. They were both standing between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables with a few people around them staring at her.
"Yes, Harry?" Arabella said pleasantly, her voice not of her own.
Harry was taken back by the tone in her voice. "Er – are you – are you okay?"
"Oh, yes, I'm fine – I just have to go, you know," said Arabella. "I'll see you in class, yeah?"
She didn't wait for an answer she rushed out of the Great Hall with the newspaper clutched in her hands. She headed down to the washroom, made sure no one was in there before locking herself in a stall and began reading the article.
The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.
Speaking to reporters in his private office Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he had already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.
"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can do to round up the criminals and bed the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."
Arabella buried her head in the newspaper, not reading it anymore of Fudge's nonsense. How could this be? Bellatrix Lestrange was out free. She was no longer in Azkaban, no longer confine to a cell, and was now by Voldemort's side, building up his army with her husband and brother-in-law. The bloody witch that was responsible for Kassandra's death was running around free, doing who knows what. If only Fudge listened to them and all of this could be avoided. They could all be safe and not have to worry about one of these Death Eaters killing them. No one in the wizarding community was safe. It was not fair. Bellatrix and free should not belong in the same sentence. She didn't deserve freedom. She didn't deserve fresh air. She didn't deserve to see flowers bloom and feel sand underneath her feet. She didn't deserve any of it while Kassandra's body turned to ashes and dust and she can never breathe again. The world was cruel and none were crueler than Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I hate her," Arabella whispered to no one as she began washing her hands.
But as Arabella began washing her hands, she truly thought about the situation. Azkaban was child's play for the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and her lap dogs. Azkaban was mercy and hope. They didn't deserve mercy and hope. They didn't deserve a second chance. They didn't deserve to live another day. Bellatrix was out. She was free and Arabella was going to one day find her and she was going to finally end their story once and for all.
The rest of her day went by slowly. Classes seemed to drone on and people kept looking over at her, as though expecting some sort of show out of her. Arabella barely talked and barely listened to anything. She only caught two things that whole day: Broderick Bode, the man from St. Mungo's, was now dead, and Hagrid was officially on probation. Bode's death was a little surprising, considering someone sent him Devil's Snare and he was an Unspeakable. Hagrid's probation, on the other hand, was not. Umbridge made it very clear what she thought of Hagrid, so the probation didn't really come as a surprise. Both news was tragic and Arabella felt bad for the both of them, but she had other things on her mind. More specifically, she had Bellatrix on her mind.
Over the next few days, Hagrid's probation became public knowledge and, to Arabella's anger, hardly anyone seemed upset by the news. As for the death of Mr. Bode, no one seemed to even notice or care. The only topic of conversation people seemed to even remotely care about was the escaped Death Eaters. Rumors were flying all around the castle and each were as ridiculous as the next. Some spotted them in Hogsmeade, enjoying a butterbeer and plotting to break into Hogwarts, while others saw them strolling in Diagon Alley as though nothing happened.
Arabella had never hated such a conversation before as much as this one. Sirius breaking out in her third year was nothing compared to this. Thanks to Fudge's comments, some thought she had something to do with the breakout. She knew some of them grew up hearing the name of these Death Eaters and expected more from them, but she was severely wrong. But those few idiots were quickly shut up with a murderous look from Harry and her friends. There were more students that were unsatisfied with the Prophet's version of how and why ten Death Eaters managed to break out of Azkaban. In their confusion and fear, they turned to the only explanation available: everything Dumbledore said last year was true and Voldemort was back. It was truly the only explanation and some were still not sure or unwilling to accept the truth, either out of fear or ignorance.
It was not only the students' mood that had changed. It was now quite common to come across a couple teachers conversing in low, urgent whispers in the corridors. Only breaking conversation when they saw student approaching. They weren't allowed to talk in the staffroom anymore with Umbridge lurking in there, waiting to get one of them in trouble. Arabella, Hermione, Harry and Ron had hoped to hear something from one of their professors, but Umbridge's latest Decree had completely stomped on those hopes.
By Order of
THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.
The above is in accordance with Education Decree Number Twenty-six.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge
High Inquisitor
The new decree became a joke amongst the students. Lee had pointed out to Umbridge that by telling off Fred and George for playing Exploding Snap, she was in violation of the new decree. The next time Arabella saw Lee, the back of his hand was bleeding and Harry recommended essence of murtlap. Arabella didn't expect Umbridge to go soft on them after the Azkaban break out, but she didn't expect the breakout to intensify Umbridge's need to have every aspect of Hogwarts under her personal control. She seemed determined to have a sacking eventually and the only question now was who was going first.
Every single Divination and Care of Magical Creatures lesson was now conducted with Umbridge and her clipboard. She lurked in the tower room, interrupting Trelawney whenever she could with difficult questions and insisting that she predict students' answers before they gave them. Arabella felt a bit bad for Trelawney as she became increasingly paranoid with each lesson. Hagrid faired no better. Though he did follow Hermione's advice and not show them any more dangerous creatures, he seemed to have lost his nerve over the Christmas break. He was distracted and jumpy during lessons. He became distant from Arabella, Harry, Hermione and Ron, expressly forbidding them to visit him after dark.
Arabella was not pleased with this. She didn't blame Hagrid. Umbridge was determined to rob her of everything that made her life at Hogwarts worth living: visiting Hagrid, her Firebolt, and Quidditch. She at least thought she would still be able to write to Remus and keep her sanity. But then Hermione advised her against such a thing, worried that Umbridge would find a way to lock up Remus or find out what he was up to in the Order. Arabella, much to her annoyance, reluctantly agreed with Hermione. Umbridge didn't like werewolves and practically made it public knowledge. It wouldn't surprise Arabella if Umbridge managed to find a way to pin some sort of heinous crime on Remus and throw him into Azkaban. Arabella swore the only thing that kept her sane nowadays were Dumbledore's Army.
Everyone worked harder than every before. The news of the ten Death Eaters on the loose rejuvenated everyone, but nobody was improving quite like Neville. The news of Bellatrix Lestrange's escape changed him. Arabella was slightly alarmed, but he was working harder than anybody else in the room, ignoring injuries and accidents. He didn't speak to anyone during meetings anymore, preferring to work relentlessly on every new jinx and countercurse brought to them.
On the other hand, however, Harry's lessons with Snape were not improving. It looked as though he was getting worse with every lesson. Before Occlumency, his scar would occasionally prickle. Now it hardly ever stopped. Hermione suggested that it might be an illness, like a fever that has to get worse before it gets better. Ron thought Snape wasn't doing his job, that he wanted to open Harry's mind a bit wider, to make it easier for Voldemort. Arabella was slightly inclined to believe him. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. It's either a lifetime of loyal service or death, and with Snape still being alive somehow, none of them really knew if he did switch sides. Hermione was not pleased with this and insisted in a tone that left no room for argument that Dumbledore trusted Snape. If they couldn't trust Dumbledore, they couldn't trust anyone.
January seemed to have passed at an alarming rate with much to worry about. The fifth years kept getting homework that would make them stay up past midnight and before they knew it, February had arrived with teachers reminding that every other lesson that their O.W.L.s were approaching. At least February brought them their second Hogsmeade visit of the year, Valentine's Day.
On the morning of the fourteenth, Arabella dressed warmly, making sure to wear boots and her Weasley jumper. She and Hermione arrived at breakfast just in time for the arrival of the post owls. Arabella looked up, even though she knew none were for her. Hermione received a letter from an unfamiliar brown owl when Harry and Ron sat down across from them. Hermione eagerly opened the envelope and pulled out a small piece of parchment. She quickly read the letter and a pleased expression spread across her face.
"Arabella, Harry, listen," she said quickly. "This is really important; do you think the two of you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"
"Er – I dunno," said Harry, looking over at Arabella, who merely shrugged. "Sure, why not."
"What's going on?" Arabella asked Hermione.
"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly –"
And she hurried out of the Great Hall, the letter clutched in her hands.
"I hate it when she does that," said Ron, shaking his head. "It wouldn't take more than two minutes to explain to us what her plan is."
"Are you coming, then?" Harry asked him.
Ron shook his head again, looking disheartened. "I can't come to Hogsmeade at all, Angelina wants a full day's training. Like it's going to help – we're the worst team I've ever seen. You should see Sloper and Kirke, they're pathetic, even worse than I am. I dunno why Angelina won't just let me resign…"
"Ron, you're a good Keeper," Arabella said firmly. She was telling the truth. He was good when he was on form and confident.
Ron shrugged and didn't mention Quidditch again during breakfast. He departed for the Quidditch pitch as Arabella and Harry made their way to Hogsmeade. They joined the queue of people being signed out by Filch, not talking much until they made their way down the stone steps outside. Arabella took a deep breath in, relishing the feel of air against her skin. It was a fresh and breezy day with the sun dimly shining down on them, but not melting the snow away. As they passed the Quidditch stadium, they caught a glimpse of Ron and Ginny skimming over the stands. Arabella turned away and suppressed the horrible feeling in her chest.
"Well, we can still play Quidditch over the holidays," said Harry, sticking his elbow out.
Arabella looped her arm through his and mumbled, "Yeah."
But it wouldn't be the same and Harry sensed it as well. He didn't bring up Quidditch again.
They both fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way down the drive and though the gates. Arabella leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling content, until a large gang of Slytherin girls passed them.
"Potter and Black!" shrieked Parkinson as her little gang giggled cruelly. "Urgh, Potter, be careful with this one… You know what her Daddy's like!"
They sped up, talking and shrieking as they kept making glances at Arabella and Harry. Arabella reached for her wand, wanting nothing more than to curse Parkinson and her little friends, but Harry stopped her and shook his head.
"She's not worth your time or energy. And she'll definitely go to Umbridge and give you more detentions."
Arabella pursed her lips and let go of her wand. "You're right. I don't like it, but you're right." She heaved a heavy sigh and then said, "Where do you want to go?"
"Um," said Harry. "Do you – er – just want to walk around for a bit?"
"That sounds good."
The High Street was full of students ambling up and down, peering into the show windows and messing about on the pavements. Arabella and Harry wandered toward Dervish and Banges. A large poster had been stuck up in the window and a few people were looking at it. They moved aside when Harry and Arabella approached it. Arabella found herself staring at the ten pictures of the escaped Death Eaters. The poster offered a reward to anyone with information relating to the recapture of any of the convicts. Despite trying her hardest, Arabella couldn't tear her eyes away from Bellatrix, that monster. The woman had a hold over Arabella's life and she wondered if Bellatrix knew.
"What I don't get is, why isn't there any dementors all over Hogsmeade?" whispered Harry, looking around. "When Sirius escaped, they were everywhere and now and now with ten Death Eaters free, they're nowhere to be found."
Arabella looked around the village as well, as though expecting a surprise attack from a dementor. She was glad there were none around, but their absence still bothered her.
"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "It like they're not even bothered to look for them."
Harry nodded and looked up and down the High Street. "Let's get going. Come on, Arabella."
The posters were staring out of every window show they passed. It started to rain as they passed Scrivenshaft's. Cold, heavy droplets of water kept hitting Arabella's face and the back of her neck.
"Let's get out of this rain," mumbled Harry, pulling her into the closest shop.
It was a small tea shop Arabella had never seen before. It was cramped with every inch decorated with frills or bows. Hovering over each table were a number of golden cupids that occasionally threw confetti over the occupants. Arabella didn't really want to stay, but was in no hurry to head back outside in the rain.
"Er…" began Harry, staring around the shop.
They sat down at the last circular table near the front of the shop. Roger Davies and Cho Chang were sitting about a foot away from them. They were holding hands and talking quietly to each other. Arabella looked around the shop and saw nothing but couples, all holding hands and sitting very close to each other.
"Should we hold hands as well?" Harry whispered.
"I… I don't even know where we are," said Arabella.
Just then, a stout woman with a high bun squeezed in between tables and stood in front of Harry and Arabella with a large smile.
"Welcome to Madam Puddifoot, dears. What can I get you?"
Arabella and Harry looked at each other for a moment.
"Coffee?" Arabella said uncertainly.
"Coffee or anything, really," said Harry.
Arabella looked around again as they waited for their drinks to arrive. Every couple were very engrossed with one another. One couple in the corner began kissing over their sugar bowl and another kept inching their chairs closer to each other, a strange look on their faces. Arabella felt slightly uncomfortable. It seemed as though everyone was setting some sort of standard that her and Harry should be following. Should they start making out now or after their coffees have arrived? She looked over at Harry and gave him an uneasy smile.
Soon enough, Madam Puddifoot came trotting with their drinks. She gave them a small smile and left to tend to the other couples. Arabella began adding some sugar in her coffee when Harry's hand slowly reached out towards hers. He carefully placed his hand on top of hers and she immediately turned red. She looked up and gave him a small smile, her ear burning. He then moved his chair closer towards hers and she felt her breath hitch. Surely, they were not going to make out now in front of everyone? She hadn't even tasted her coffee yet!
"I'll be really honest with you," he said quietly, a small smile on his face, "I'm a little uncomfortable here and I think you are too. How about after we finish this, we pay and get out of here?"
Arabella let out a sigh of relief and nodded. Pink confetti showered down on them as they finished their drinks and left the shop. It was raining harder now and they broke into a splashy run towards the Three Broomsticks. They both knew they were too early to meet Hermione, but wanted to spend sometime alone in the warm Inn over some butterbeer near a fireplace. Arabella shook her wet hair and looked around.
"Harry! Arabella! Over here!"
Hermione was waving at them on the other side of the room, her hand stretched out, trying to catch their attention. As they got closer, they realized that she was not alone. She was sitting at a table was an unlikely assortment: Luna Lovegood, ex-journalist Rita Skeeter, and –
"Ted?" said Arabella, bewildered.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think of this chapter. I initially had about half of this chapter written and ready to go until about a couple days ago when I decided to add more and keep this story moving along. Especially with what's coming up in next chapter in regards to the article(s). Well, I hope you guys liked it and I should be updating some time either before the weekend or after as I will be out of town. Until next time, my friends! Happy readings!