AN: In case you were wondering, the vision of Lydjah's in the last chapter does actually take place; I've already written that scene. To be honest, I've written a lot of the later years, because they're much more angsty and that's fun for me to write about. As much as I love my characters now, I've finally worked out the end-point in all their stories (though I have about 3 epilogues per character so sorry in advance), so much as I know that it's slow going now, I do work on Three Bloods a lot, it's just not usually in chronological order, which is why it takes me so long to update. Sorry about that.

In answer to the last question:

1) Scorpius

2) Sam

3) James

4) Lydjah

5) Albus

6) Jayna

7) Lien

8) Molly

Keep reviewing if you can guys, it means a lot.

This chapter's question (I'm obviously not going to answer it next time because spoilers): Any character's so far that you think you can see the end-point of? And if so, what is their end-point?

Finally; MERRY CHRISTMAS! (Or if you don't celebrate Christmas I hope you're having a lovely December 25th)

Chapter Sixteen
Of Rejections and Embarrassment (Strangely They're Not Linked)

The five of them thankfully reached the Hospital Wing without bumping into anyone else; though they all knew the story would be round the school by dinner. Madam Longbottom didn't even look surprised to see them, just sad. She raised her eyebrows as she took Jayna's vitals however.

"Someone gave her Dreamless Sleep potion?" Lee raised a bored hand, releasing the spell and letting Jayna fall onto a waiting bed, but Sam could see the muscles in her shoulder were taught. Madam Longbottom blinked at her, apparently not used to seeing Lee in the same room as their group but nodded. "Good call. If you need your supply replenishing then just come and see me." Lee nodded. Sam's eyes were burning with questions but Lee cleared her throat before she could ask them.

"Thanks. I'm going back to Ravenclaw tower to work on the Charms homework. Lydjah, you'll tell me how she is later?" Lee asked, not looking at her girlfriend. Lydjah made a face at her that said she knew exactly what she was doing, but agreed anyway. With that, Lee left, gently extracting her hand from Sam's.

"You have to have clearance to be able to just carry Dreamless sleep potion around with you right? Because you can overdose on it if you're not careful?" Sam asked of the Matron. Madam Longbottom didn't meet her eyes.

"Yes. It's difficult to overdose on Dreamless Sleep potion, because of how quickly you go to sleep and how much you have to consume for it to even be a problem, but lots of wizards use it to commit suicide because it's painless, which is why underage students are not allowed it without a prescription."

"So Lee has a prescription?"

"You know that I can't tell you the medical details of anybody without their permission or not under dire circumstances." Sam snorted angrily, but let it drop when James placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Lydjah was yet to let go of Jayna's hand.

Madam Longbottom cast a quick antiseptic spell on the wounds on Jayna's fingers that had stopped bleeding a while back. She cleaned Jayna's free hand carefully and wasn't surprised when Lydjah grabbed the cloth off her to do the other.

"What happened?" The nurse asked finally. James shrugged, sighing.

"She touched this pair of socks I'd bought her, from Gladrags, grabbed a weird box out of her pocket-" James started.

"Healer Clearwater's box." Lydjah clarified. "She stunned herself but it didn't work; her fit happened anyway." Madam Longbottom nodded slowly.

"That's what I thought; the stunning spell is too violent to calm her mind. That's why Dreamless Sleep potion works, but that doesn't." She huffed a breath. "There's got to be a better solution than just letting her wander around and hurt herself." She muttered. "She really doesn't want to go to St Mungos. Maybe I can convince her to go in the holidays. I'll see what she says when she wakes up. She'll be out until dinner I would guess."

"I'm staying." Lydjah said simply. James and Sam shared a look and shrugged, pulling two chairs up to the other side of her bed.

"I'm going to write up her case and owl it to Healer Clearwater." Madam Longbottom said.

"You know her?" Lydjah asked. Neville's wife quirked a smile.

"Saved her life during the Battle of Hogwarts." With no small amount of pride at the impressed looks on their faces, the matron disappeared into her office.

Jayna's head hurt. Also her ankle. And her throat was sore again. She screwed up her eyes and blinked them open, not looking hopeful.

"Hey." Lydjah said gently, from her right. Her face swam into focus, along with James and Sam's. Scorpius stood at the foot of her bed carrying something that smelled heavenly and she sat up with a small amount of dignity.

"What happened this time?" She croaked. They all chuckled and Scorpius carefully passed a tray full of food over to her. She glugged down the glass of water eagerly.

"You touched some socks? And then had another fit."

"In the middle of the pub?" Jayna sighed, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. "Great."

"Yeah." Lydjah said apologetically. "The spell box didn't work."

"Wait; I touched some socks?" Jayna backtracked.

"I'm guessing the nightmare you had wasn't anything to do with them?"

"Not that I can think of."

"See! I told you it wasn't me!" James said triumphantly. Jayna frowned. "What was it about?"

"What were the socks made out of?" She asked.

"I don't know- wool?" Jayna nodded, her eyes unfocused.

"It started with my face in my father's jumper which I'm guessing was probably the same material."

"You father was involved in the torturing as well?!" James worried, knowing how much Jayna admired him. Jayna shook her head, willing tears not to well up.

"No. He wasn't in it. I'd just worn his jumper because I was sca- Whatever. It doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about it."

"You promised that you would let us in." Lydjah pointed out gently.

"I promised that if it was getting too much or I was scared then I would tell you. I'm not scared from that last memory, and it didn't tell me much more about my grandfather's plans."

"Then why don't you want to talk about it?" James questioned.

"Because my father is dead and I don't even have that stupid jumper to remember him by." Jayna snapped back, angry at being prodded. "I appreciate you staying here, I really do, and for the food and everything but for Merlin's sake would you kindly fuck off now?" Her friends flinched back, a little hurt. Jayna turned her face into the pillow, hoping they'd take the hint.

Slowly, one by one, they left the wing. All of them had come closer to Jayna in the past year, but it was times like this when they realised they could never come close to understanding her grief.

Jayna waited until she heard the great wooden doors slam shut before letting the sobs out, curling into a ball and gasping every time the memory played itself again in her head, both because of the hot white burst of pain that accompanied it and also the way her heart seemed to be ripping down the middle.

Dad says I look like I'm hibernating in this jumper. I like to pull it up over my chin, and lose my hands and knees in the fabric. When I sit down, I can make my feet disappear too. It's like being wrapped in one of dad's hugs, but all day long. I don't tell him this of course, but I like wearing his jumper because it smells like him; like warmth, like comfort, like home.

I go down to the basement tonight. I feel like I've done it before, but the more I think about it, the further away the memories seem. I don't know why I'm going, but I know I'm going to. I have to, even though it makes me feel like running away. The basement always makes me feel like running away.

My feet patter down the stairs and as I pull the jumper tighter I hear another of dad's huge snores from the floor above, and it's almost enough to make me smile. I'm going to miss him when I go to Hogwarts. I miss Cara like crazy when she goes, but at least dad's home. I don't like that I have to swap one for the other except on holidays. I'll miss mum and Aleron and Devin too, but I can write to them. Dad can't write me a hug.

I wish that I'd put on socks as my bare feet touch the icy cold of the final staircase, but it's too late now. I shake my hand out of my sleeve to grab the doorknob and fall to the ground as it all comes rushing back. The pain, the terror, the endless amount of information to absorb and grandfather's terrible, terrible Secret.

I try to scramble back up the stairs but my step-grandmother's already seen me from inside, and she picks me up with a hand over my mouth with practiced grace. She kicks the basement door closed behind her and I stop struggling. It's too late. Last time I tried to run I just dragged someone else down with me. I'm helpless and stupid and really quite cold and all I want, all I want, is for grandfather's wand, the one he's rolling on the desk behind him as he watches me being placed onto my usual chair, to snap in half, to break.

My own is with me, something I carry all the time, almost an extension of my arm now, but it's just as useless as me. The only things I know how to cast are what grandfather's taught me, and everything else I do magically is both pure chance and completely rubbish, like shooting colourful bubbles into the air when I'm happy. I don't want to anger grandfather. He's scary when he's angry. He's always scary. But when he's angry… When he's angry I'd rather snap my wand and become a filthy Muggle than be anywhere near him.

I do the only thing I can do; I tuck my feet into dad's jumper to keep them warm, and meet grandfather's stare.

"Jayna." I nod. "Do you know where your name came from?" I don't frown; grandfather says showing emotions on our faces makes us easier to read than picture books, but in my head confusion is bursting like fireworks.

"From France?" I guess finally. Grandfather almost smiles.

"Yes. You 'ave lived in England all your life, and talk zis language like it is your own, but you must remember zat you are a Blackwood and your soul belongs to France. Your life is not going to be easy, little one, but it will be 'onourable. 'Onour is not somezing zat everybody possesses. Remember zat." His words, while eloquent, do not make a lot of sense to me, but I nod anyway.

"I will."

"Tonight is a dark night. Dark nights call for dark magic."

"But it was a dark night last time." I point out, quietly. "Dark nights are common in England. And dark magic is not honourable."

"All magic is 'onourable Jayna. It is what makes wizards more 'onourable zan ze cleanest Moldu could ever 'ope to be. Dark magic is ze most 'onourable of zem all."

"Just because it's the oldest it doesn't make it the best." Grandfather bristles at my words, but his eyes don't have the same glazed look that means he's going to punish me for my insolence. Yet.

"Age is knowledge and knowledge is power. Everybody knows zis."

"Mum says that age makes people stupid and that some people learn less in a lifetime than others learn in a week."

"Your mozer is not a Blackwood. She does not understand."

"Mum understands everything." I yelp as he slashes viciously with his wand, and a deep cut appears across my hand. Grandmother puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and his eyes narrow in irritation. I feel tears well up and fall down my cheeks, no matter how much I try to keep them back.

"You're wrong. Your mozer is a fool and your fazer a disappointment." I flinch back from his words.

"Why do you bother with me then, surely the daughter of a fool and a disappointment isn't worth much." His wand-tip is hot under my chin, and my skin begins to burn and he presses it deeper into my throat.

"For one so clever you can never keep your mouz shut." I whimper as my flesh burns hotter. "No-one is worzy of carrying ze name zat you do, but I'm sure she'd like your passion." He moves his wand away with a grunt and I sob out a breath.

"Whose name do I carry?" I say finally, knowing he wants me to ask. Grandfather never speaks about anything he doesn't want me to question. It's just how I pose the questions that he gets angry about. My grandmother flinches and moves away from him to the back of the room, as if she doesn't want to hear the answer.

"Ze person who started zis organisation. Your grandmozer."

"Elenore?" I ask, confused, referring to his ex-wife. He scowls.

"No, not zat simpering pest of a woman. Your fazer's true mozer."

"Does he know?" The wheels spin in my hand, and I hate to admit the first one is relief that I don't share blood with Elenore. There's a reason I don't call her 'grandma'.

"Not even Elenore knows; a confundus charm here and zere and it was almost too easy to make her zink Devin Luca was her own."

"Anton and Christophe?" He rolls his eyes.

"Zey are Elenore's."

"So my grandmother is called Jayna?"

"Jayna Marjolaine Blackwood I. And she's dead."

"Oh. Why?" For a second a hint of surprise shows on his features that I would dare to ask such a blunt question.

"Ze filzy Sang de Bourbes turned on 'er. Your grandparents I believe." Normally it was impolite to say 'what' but I was so confused.

"What?"

"Your other grandparents. Your mozer's."

"They've been missing for years."

"They've been hiding for years. Because they know I'll kill them when I find them." I didn't know what to do with this information. My head span sickeningly.

"You joined the Nightwatchers because you loved her?" It takes me a second to realise it was me who had spoken. I brace myself for pain, but when I open my eyes grandfather looks like I'm the one to have hit him round the head.

"I joined because I believed in ze cause." He says coldly, but then something snaps. "I stayed because I loved 'er."

"Wait how did you convince Elenore with a simple Confundus charm that she'd had a kid that was three years old?"

"Pardon?"

"There are three years between my dad and uncle Anton."

"I married Elenore straight out of school. It was expected. I couldn't marry Jayna, though I knew her then."

"Why not?"

"It's generally frowned upon to marry your cousins in zis day and age."

"My grandmother was also your cousin?"

"Yes."

"Ew." Grandfather healed my hand, apparently not realising I had spoken.

"Jayna became pregnant and was murdered within days of having your father. I'd been planning on leaving Elenore once Devin Luca was born but I couldn't disgrace the family name. I told my parents Elenore had insisted on keeping it a secret because she was so sick throughout the entire pregnancy that she was worried about miscarriages, and tricked Elenore into going along with everything. Anton and Christophe were born in due course and later on we moved to England on instructions to gather more numbers for our cause and to find the Secret. Elenore and I split just before your parents married, and I met Heather when she was transferred over from France a year later."

"So who's the leader of the Nightwatchers now?" I say, finally. I have sympathy for my grandfather. I also hate him more than I can physically put into words.

"Who knows? Jayna tasked me with finding the Secret for her. I thought it only fitting that Jayna should help me do that."

"'Who knows'? You're- we're risking our lives and freedom for who knows?"

"I don't care who our leader is. What's important is we find the Secret, and use it to get justice."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"For two reasons. You're right; I'm risking my life. You never know what of the past is going to come in handy if I'm not around to give it. And secondly, you won't remember any of this in the morning."

"Dad deserves to know all this."

"My son married the daughter of his mother's murderers. He deserves nothing."

"He didn't know mum was their daughter. He doesn't even know his mother was murdered! And besides; this is an organisation that's hunting down Mudbloods. You can hardly blame them for killing the leader." I point out, logically.

Grandfather doesn't move for a moment, and I'm hopeful that I've made him have some kind of epiphany, but then he looks up, his eyes burning brighter than any wand ever could, rage and disgust boring holes into my skin. I know, seconds before his wand rises, that I might have just made the mistake that will cost my sanity.

"You will not speak a word of anyzing I 'ave told you tonight, whezer you remember it or not. You will come back tomorrow at ze same time, assuming you can walk." He smiles and I realise all the other times I was only touching on the well of anger. Now… Tears start to run down my face and I step off the chair, trying desperately to grab the wand out of his hands before he can use it, knowing I'll never make it in time. My jumper sleeve snags on the chair and I take a deep breath in of my dad's smell as the jet of light comes rushing towards me. "Crucio!"

"STOP!" I'm screaming, on the ground, the world nothing but agony upon agony. "STOP! STOP IT PLEASE! PLEASE STOP! I WON'T! I WON'T TELL! GRANDFATHER PLEASE!" I try to reach up to claw out my own throat; anything, anything to stop this pain, but grandmother's hands pin mine down before I can. "PLEASE! GRANDMOTHER DON'T! DON'T LET HIM PLEASE! PLEASE! STOP! HELP! HELP! PLEASE! MUM! MUM! HELP! DAD! PLEASE STOP! CARA! PLEASE SOMEBODY! STOP! I WON'T TELL, I WON'T TELL! PLEASE-"

"Obliviate!" Grandmother's voice cuts through the daggers that are piercing my skin…

I'm in my bedroom. It's freezing, still, even though I've been under the quilt for hours. I snuggle dad's jumper closer around me but I flinch when it goes over my chin. I have some kind of friction burn there. I get these all the time, but they're not usually on my throat. Mum thinks I sleepwalk, but surely Cara would wake up if I kept wandering out of bed at all hours. I close my eyes and sooner than I thought sleep carries me away…

Jayna pulled the Hospital Wing sheets around her and wept, for her family, for the secrets she didn't want to know and for herself, for what she'd been through, for what she still had to face. She just wanted to sleep…

The next day the eight of them were stood outside the door to the Secret. Jayna was still subdued, but at least she'd left the Hospital Wing. She'd spent the afternoon arguing fiercely against going to St Mungos and the nurse had finally relented, but on the condition that if Jayna's next fit ended in even the slightest injury she'd be flooed there before she could blink.

'Instruction: Open it' was the only message the Guardian had left them, and with a sigh they all traipsed through. While they knew it was probably trying to lure them into a false sense of security, the tasks at the moment were so easy that one person could be doing them.

In the centre of the absolutely ordinary looking room, there was a chest. Sam made her way over to it lazily, and tried to lift the lid. It didn't budge, not that she was surprised.

"We've already used Alohomora." Sam complained, looking back at the others. Lydjah rolled her eyes and made her way over.

"Cistem Aperio!" The chest swung open with a click. They all half-heartedly readied themselves, but there wasn't anything in it.

"At least we worked out your research thing was a good idea." Scorpius said, uncharacteristically kindly to Jayna. Jayna managed a half-smile, but none of them were surprised when she took off without a goodbye as soon as they'd all made it outside.

Lydjah sighed, running a hand through her long hair.

"Is it some kind of anniversary for one of her family members?" Molly asked. Lydjah shook her head.

"Not that I know of. She's just… I think sometimes it hits her you know? That she's never going to see them again. She tries to forget about it most of the time, likes to look at the facts instead of her feelings. She thinks as long as she's accepted they're dead she should be fine, because that's the fifth stage of grief or something. But I'm pretty sure you have to go through the other five stages for that to work. Denial, depression and acceptance she's got down; she denied it the first day, then spent three weeks not speaking or eating or even moving and then she decided they were dead and she thinks she should be over it, and gets cross at herself when she's not. She doesn't like to talk about it for that reason; because I think she's convinced everyone's going to think she's weak. And all the stress of this Secret and her nightmares and her school work and her sister isn't exactly helping."

"What are the other stages she has to go through?" James asked cautiously, after a few seconds of stunned silence.

"Anger and… Bargaining?"

"She gets angry a lot." Sam said.

"No she gets annoyed a lot. Besides it's not that she's not angry enough, it's that she's not angry at her family."

"I think she's plenty angry at her scum of her grandfather." Scorpius pointed out. Lydjah looked at him.

"No she's terrified of him. And I think she has to be angry at her family for dying to pass that stage."

"That's a weird stage to go through." Lien said curiously.

"Not really. It's pretty natural for you to be angry at someone for abandoning you, even if you know it's not their fault." The others conceded to this point. Lydjah closed her eyes for a long moment. "I hate that she's the only one who can help herself. It's all up to her. We can only support."

James Potter generally didn't like to be worried. It put a damper on his mood, made him unfocused and uncreative when it came to doing anything fun. He'd been worried about Jayna for two days now, and frankly he was sick of it. He needed a distraction. And when James needed a distraction, it meant he needed a girlfriend.

"Hey, Isla!" He called across the common room. Isla Odell looked over to see who was calling her. Seeing James she quickly left Violet and Lancelot (how did he get in here anyway?) and made her way over.

"Hey James."

"You fancy going out with me?" He asked, confidently but not arrogantly, a line he only didn't cross when it came to asking girls out.

"I'm really sorry James but no." Isla prepared herself with a handful of meaningless reasons when he asked why, only to be pleasantly surprised when James spoke.

"Ok, cool. Do you know if Olivia would be interested?" Without that exact tone of voice, Isla probably would have turned away in disgust, but it was clear that James wasn't going to ask Olivia out for a show-her-what-you're-missing display. He just wanted someone to hang-out with who'd be up for snogging sometimes because he didn't have a particular interest in anyone and to be honest, that was ok. There was nothing wrong with that; it was why she'd gone out with Isaac, that and she felt like she should. But she didn't have to, and, unlike Isaac, James seemed to be the kind of guy who respected that. Sure he was probably surprised that she'd said no, especially if Sam had told him all the giggling they did over his hair, but he wasn't going to question it, and he wasn't going to hold her rejection against her. She could see why Jayna fancied him, even if she wouldn't admit it. That was why she'd rejected his proposal of course, though she was sure that telling either of them the real reason would result in chaos.

"Sorry James, she's going out with Malcolm." James fake-pouted with a laugh.

"I'm just not having a good day." She laughed with him.

"I think Yasmin Avninder likes you, and I know she's single." She said finally, hating to be throwing him into the arms of someone who wasn't her love-sick friend, but she also knew that neither of them were ready for that day. Yet.

"The Hufflepuff?" That was another thing she liked about James; he knew everyone, didn't hold anyone beneath him, even if he didn't hold anyone above him either. Except perhaps Sam.

"Yeah."

"Thanks Isla. See you around." James got up off the couch and sauntered over to the portrait hole. He found Yasmin in a matter of minutes (the Marauder's Map was really useful) and successfully asked her out, though she looked a bit disappointed when he said he wasn't Indian.

'Instruction: It's broken'.

"I swear the Guardian is just getting lazy now." Sam announced as they once again wandered into the room. The room was exactly the same, but instead of a chest a crumpled up tent sat in the middle of the floor. "Reparo!" She flicked her wand lazily and the small rips they could see from broken poles mended as the poles straightened up again.

Albus had barely even made it into the room by the time she fixed it, but when he tried to turn the doorknob to let them out again, there wasn't one.

"Maybe we have to put it up?" He guessed after he announced this news.

"How? The floor is going to be rather hard to put pegs through." Lien asked. Sam nodded in agreement, while the others looked baffled.

"You put your tents up by hand?" James asked, looking horrified. "Please tell me no-one else does that." Sam raised a hand.

"I've never been camping." Scorpius said. Jayna nodded lightly in agreement.

"But you've been to the Quidditch World Cup before!" Scorpius shrugged.

"We apparated home in the evening."

"Anywho; who's doing the spell?" Sam asked. "Because there's no way we can put it up by ourselves."

"Erecto!" Lydjah said, in a bored tone. The tent flew up and stayed there, the doorknob thankfully reappearing next to Albus' hand. There was a moment of pleased silence, broken by Jayna's quiet sniggers. They turned to her in shock; it was the most emotion she'd shown in the past week.

"I'm sorry but 'erecto'?" She said finally. Lydjah and James joined in her giggling.

"You dirty minded idiot." James snorted. The rest of them finally caught on, and relieved wry smiles and a few more sniggers made the heavy cloud over their friendship finally dissipate.