Here's another chapter for the few who actually read this; inspiration has struck me so I managed to get this done.
The roses have wilted,
The violets are dead,
The demons run circles,
Round and round in my head.
—Unknown
When Luna Scamander found Carina Black the day after her outburst, the raven haired woman was sitting alone in her bedroom, (alone in her home, as a matter of fact, because Hermione had had the foresight to send their children and teenagers in their care to Andromeda's) head bowed and hands clasped between her knees. She was unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of her shoulders.
"Hermione sent you," the older woman muttered without looking up. "Luna, you don't need to babysit me."
"I wouldn't have come if that was what she'd asked," Luna reminded her lightly, taking a seat beside her on the bed. "because I know you wouldn't like it. And, quite frankly, I wouldn't want to babysit you, anyway. You're my friend, not my charge. We're both grown women."
"But Hermione did send you."
"She suggested I come, yes, after she had told me everything that's went on while I was helping Rolf on his escapade. I'd been planning on visiting tomorrow, but I wanted to see if you were alright, you see, so here I am."
Carina finally glanced up through a mess of raven hair. "Yeah?"
"Of course. How are you?"
"How do you think, Luna?" the blonde was given a wry look.
"Not very good, I'd expect," Luna frowned a bit, an idea suddenly striking her. "Have there been any effects? Have you felt a bit too...different?"
"No." Carina was obviously not telling the truth, and the younger woman, ever patient, raised an eyebrow in response; her friend rolled her eyes, but went on to grumble, "I've been hearing voices."
"And?"
"And nothing. It's not like I'm...possessed or something. But I hear them in the back of my mind near constantly, and keeping up my Occlumency shields to shut them out gives me a constant headache. They...whisper things," the raven haired witch's hands, which had unclasped themselves, began to quiver, and she trapped them between her knees. "bad things. That doesn't phase me. I've thought worse on my own. But my temper gets shorter sometimes, especially when I don't like something that's going on; the other night….Hermione told you about it, correct?"
"Yes." Luna nodded and listened intently.
"It's like that. I was really going to kill that girl, but Hermione had to physically stop me—hearing Teddy's name, hearing that my children were probably frightened and confused in that playroom, that's what hit me."
Hearing that Carina's temper was shorter was a bit of a worry, because it had not been very short to begin with, and what problems she had she had dealt with as they had all gotten older, managed to reign it in. She had been able to last a fairly long time before she truly blew a fuse, so to speak, and got very angry.
"I see," the blonde noticed that not only were Carina's hands shaking, but now her legs were, too, and carefully reached over to seize her friend's hands and take them into her own; Carina flinched. Luna did not mind. "What worries me is the voices. You're positive you're not able to be possessed?"
"Pretty positive, yes," Carina let out a breath and raked her eyes across the wall; her arms jerked involuntarily, and Luna gripped her hands tighter. The other woman did not seem to care. "I can feel it in here, somewhere, deep down. In the deepest recesses of my being and my mind, it's there, I know it is. I feel like something is going to go wrong, Luna," gray eyes finally fell upon her. "terribly wrong. I can keep myself in decent control now, but I'm slipping. I've been having nightmares every night, and each one is worse than the last; it's like I'm sixteen again, fresh out of Azkaban and getting thrown into a war. Everything hurts again, and it really shouldn't be because for the longest time, it didn't. Not much. I wake up in a frenzy, and more often than not, when I come to, Hermione is trying to comfort me or I've pinned her to the bed because I had no idea what I was doing or who she was."
Luna could see that her friend felt terrible about that. She cared for Hermione greatly, deeply, and waking her every night in a panic was not something she would want to do; almost harming her was even worse. She could also see that Carina was worried about what she may do, that she may hurt her children, spouse, or friends. Luna could not blame her for that; inwardly, she cursed fate.
Why is it always she or Harry who bear the brunt of every problem that arises?
"I don't know," Luna admitted honestly, quietly. "It seems like quite a problem, and something to be cautious about. I'll not lie, if I were you I would be worried about losing control of myself, too. If you aren't capable of being possessed, then this darkness is merely feeding off of what was already inside of you and increasing it tenfold, thus making you more susceptible. Perhaps that's why you were the vessel, though; because of who you are, how you've suffered, and what you've done. Perhaps it could be because you were the most likely candidate to do harm and lose yourself, or because of how powerful a witch you are." Carina opened her mouth, but closed it when the blonde squeezed her hands firmly and went on. "But if you can be possessed, it could only get stronger over time and eventually take you over. I hate sharing these with you, but they're only a few possibilities in a range of many, so I wouldn't worry too much over them. We just need to hope for the best and make sure nothing happens. I trust you can control yourself. No one has a stronger will than you, except perhaps Hermione."
Carina offered her a dry smile. "Leave it to you to tell me that everything possible can go wrong, and then tell me to still have hope."
Luna shrugged rather unapologetically. She much preferred to be truthful with her opinions and thoughts rather than censor them, and she knew that Carina would rather her be that way, as well, even when the news or ideas she were delivering were bad.
"I suppose it's the Ravenclaw in me."
"You know," Carina said abruptly. "I was nearly put in Slytherin."
"Really?" Luna tilted her head. She had never been told that before, though it was not altogether surprising.
"Yes. Though I lacked a sense of self preservation, I had the sheer cunningness that only a Slytherin could really possess, and the ambition to pull anything I wanted off. However, Gryffindor, then, was better suited for me because the bravery that had lay dormant in me for so long was so intense. Loyalty, too, though I was not exactly just or hardworking enough for Hufflepuff; too reckless, hence the lacking of self preservation. I had the cleverness, but I didn't often use it unless I was in a situation dire enough for me to. So," the raven haired woman shrugged. "Gryffindor."
"That's certainly interesting," the blonde found herself unable to stop the slight smile from gracing her lips. "Sirius would be turning in his grave, wouldn't he?"
"Maybe," the other woman hummed, though her eyes grew darker. "But he'd have loved me anyway."
That, they both knew, was true. Carina had carried a lot of emotional baggage, as had her father, but he had cast his own problems aside (or attempted to) to help his daughter through her problems. She had done him good, just being around for company; they had patched each other up the best they could. It was not, perhaps, the most conventional father/daughter relationship, but given the circumstances, they did the best with what they were given and loved each other through all the pain they had each suffered.
"I know I do," Luna replied gently, and she could see Carina's lips briefly twitch, feel her shaking gradually begin to subside until her hands were still and gripping Luna's own back just as tightly.
"Thank you," the raven haired woman stared at their hands for a moment, before ever so cautiously untangling them and reaching out to grasp Luna by the shoulder, tugging ever so lightly in her direction. The blonde got the message and scooted closer, and when she felt Carina's arms slowly encircle her, allowed herself to release the breath she had been holding. She had thought for sure that her friend would have pulled away by now given the circumstances, but was glad she had not. There was a cheek pressed to her head, and a mumble of, "I'm dangerous, you know."
"No more so than you were before," Luna wrapped her arms around the older witch's torso.
"It's worse."
"It has the potential to be."
"I realize how ridiculous this sounds, but I very well could hurt you." It was very like Carina to pull her in in such a way and then tell her to run away while she still could; it was odd, but Luna also knew that it was her way of giving Luna one last out, though in reality, she did not want her to go at all, did not want to be alone. Hence, the pulling in.
"I trust you." She did. Luna trusted Carina more than anyone else in the world, even Rolf, even Harry or Ginny or Ron or Hermione, and she believed that no matter what may happen in the future with this darkness, this parasite that had latched onto her, it would be overcome. It was simply not like Carina Black to lie there and take something like that, not ever.
Lips pressed against her hair, and for a moment, Luna was reminded of Malfoy Manor and the times after. It was so familiar, and she did not know that she had really missed being alone with Carina, her best friend, until now; she had been gone for a good couple months with Rolf, and all the other times she had visited, the children were always around, or Carina was entwined with Hermione as they all spoke. Not that that angered or bothered her, of course. However, this did feel nice.
"Thank you," Carina repeated, and that was that.
~~~xxx~~~
When Hermione came home for lunch, she found Carina and Luna sitting in the kitchen together, reclined back in chairs as they sipped at their respective butterbeer and pumpkin juice. They, it appeared, had been waiting for her, for they had a plate of untouched sandwiches and cookies sitting in the center of the table.
The entire scene was rather...normal. Like old times. (Though those had never been particularly normal)
Carina glanced up upon her arrival and lazily waved a hand; a chair next to her slowly slid out, and Hermione's bag floated from her shoulder and sat itself at the end of the table, far enough away that she could not reach it and attempt to do more paperwork.
Rolling her eyes, the brunette took her seat, and when she turned to reach for a sandwich, there was already one hovering near her nose; the corner of Carina's lips twitched upward.
Hermione rolled her eyes again, though fondly, and took the sandwich.
"I take it your day has been better than normal," she remarked.
"Better when Luna showed up," Carina offhandedly waved a hand. "Being left alone to my thoughts isn't a good thing at the moment. She brought me out of it. Thank you for telling her."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione swallowed a bite and sat her sandwich down; Carina passed her a goblet of pumpkin juice. "You're acting…"
"Differently?" Luna suggested. She sat her own goblet down.
"Yes."
"I'm trying to make the best of right now," her wife sipped her butterbeer. "My occlumency shields are up, so I'm not hearing any voices at the moment, though I do have a pounding headache and won't be able to keep them out for long. Peaceful, but painful. I wanted to be semi normal when you came home."
"Oh, I see." Hermione understood now. Carina still did not feel right about how she constantly woke the brunette up at odd hours of the night because of her nightmares, nor about how things might go in the future if everything took a turn for the worst. She wanted to be sure Hermione got to experience the good instead of the bad for as long as she could.
Peaceful, but painful. Oh, Carina…
"How was your day so far?"
"Filled with paperwork," the brunette sighed. "And the press. They were asking about our new house guests, and they believed the story we came up with. I also checked on Andromeda and the children, everyone is fine and the house wasn't blown up."
Carina leaned her head on her hand, and both Hermione and Luna picked up on the way she was subtly rubbing her temple, other hand tightening slightly on her butterbeer; the other two women exchanged looks. "That's good. Andromeda is a tough witch, she can handle them."
"Blacks are generally resilient creatures," commented Luna mildly, and the all too knowing look she gave the raven haired woman across from her caused Carina to grunt in response.
Hermione was rather curious about what they could have talked about, but knew better than to ask; things between Carina and Luna were generally private, and if either wanted her to know, they would tell her. So, she finished her sandwich in silence before leaning over to carefully hold out a hand; her wife stared at it, and then slowly clasped it in her own frighteningly cold one. The brunette jerked a bit at the chill.
"Sorry," Carina made to pull her hand back, but Hermione quickly held it tighter. Gray eyes appraised her with something akin to amusement. "Haven't had a chance to warm up."
She did not flinch, and that was a good sign; Carina had been iffy about physical contact as of late.
"It's fine," Hermione rubbed her thumb across the back of Carina's hand. "It surprised me, is all."
"I could tell." The younger woman shot Luna a glance. "Will you be staying all day, or…"
"If you'd like," the blonde shrugged. "I'd enjoy it, if you don't mi—"
"Of course not."
Luna smiled. "Good. You wanted to take the children out, didn't you?"
Hermione watched them with interest. Take the children out?
"Yes. I planned on doing it alone, but having you around will be a lot easier. I can't stand...well, you know. We don't want any issues."
"I know. I'll help."
"Thank you."
Their friend only smiled again and stood. "I'll give you two a moment. Your lunch break is almost over, you know."
As she left, Hermione peered over at the clock on the wall; indeed, her break was almost over. She was grateful for a friend like Luna, who understood that there were things that needed to be said.
"So," the brunette began. "You're alright?"
"For now," her wife released her hand and stood, gathering the empty plates on the table and placing them in the sink. She had, it seemed, decided not to use magic for that this time. She turned to lean against the countertop, hands bracing herself behind her. "Until I let my shields down. Then, the nightmares will come and I'll be moodier, I suppose. That's all for now. Luna had many interesting theories about how I could or couldn't be possessed."
"Possessed?" Hermione frowned. Possession was something she had only heard of when she went to church with her parents as a child; demon possession, that is. Being possessed was a terrible thing, and thus far, Carina had not shown any signs of being possessed. She had been far more tempermental, darker, but nothing like that.
Yet.
Carina pushed herself off the counter and moved instead to sit atop the table, scooting so that she was directly in front of Hermione, long legs dangling, feet mere centimeters from the floor. "Yes. She suggested that if I were possessed, the darkness will only get stronger over time and eventually consume me. She also suggested that if I can't be possessed, then its merely feeding off of what was already inside of me and increasing it, which makes me more susceptible. She said that could be why I'm the vessel; because of who I am, how I've suffered, and what I've done. She said it could be because I was the most likely candidate to do harm and lose myself, or because of how powerful a witch I am. Mad, isn't it?"
"Mad doesn't begin to cover it," Hermione sighed, and she felt terrible at the moment. The woman before her had already suffered enough already, so why did bad things have to keep happening to her? She did not deserve it. Any sins she had had already been paid for in the war, all the damage she had caused thrown back at her everytime she got hurt in battle, or tortured. The bad thing about the situation was that Hermione did not know how to help, and that made it hurt all the more for her.
"I'm used to it," the raven haired woman answered her thoughts as though she had known them all along. Perhaps she had. "Though it doesn't mean I like it. It's painful, and irritating, and I hate what it's doing to me. But I can't do anything about it, and that's why I made you promise; for that very reason. I don't want to turn into something worse than I am."
"You're not—"
"Hermione."
"No," Hermione reiterated sternly, placing her hands atop Carina's thighs and squeezing hard to get her attention. "You're not bad. You're an amazing witch, mother, and wife, and no matter what happens, I'll know who you truly are. You won't slip away, not if you can help it. You're too stubborn to just take this lying down. You'll fight it every step of the way, and that proves you aren't some monster."
Carina did not answer, merely stared, brows drawn together as she pursed her lips briefly. After a few moments, she shook her head and placed her hands over Hermione's, then slid them down the older woman's arms and back up, before taking both of Hermione's hands into her own firmly.
"You've got a lot of faith," she said finally. "Let's hope it isn't misguided."
"It isn't."
"Whatever you say, Mione." Carina leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss, and Hermione marveled at the feeling, for they had barely touched in the weeks before the outburst of the night before; the other woman had been too jumpy, too closed off, in keeping what was happening to her a secret.
When they pulled apart, it was not very far, and the brunette could feel the warm breath ghosting against her face, see the bright gray eyes regarding her. Her own eyes flickered to the clock; it was time to leave.
"I have to go." Regretfully, Hermione scooted her chair back and stood. She wished she could stay where she was, with no children to interrupt since they were gone, but knew she could not because of all the things that needed done in the office. "I suppose I'll be seeing you at dinner?"
"Of course not. I'm just going to hole myself up and never speak to you again."
Hermione narrowed her eyes at her wife, whose lips twitched and then quirked up into a small smirk; she ducked her head to hide it.
"Really?"
"Feeling well or not," Carina lifted her head and brushed back an unruly lock of black hair. "I'm positive I'll be at the dinner table tonight. You don't have to worry about me. Go do your work, Granger."
"That's Granger-Black to you," Hermione reminded, though she could not help but smile a bit. She stepped closer to the fireplace, intent on flooing back to her office, but was stopped by the rose that had been procured and held before her face. She gingerly took it. "What's this for?"
"I'm trying to make the best of right now," Carina repeated her words from earlier, and waved her off as she stepped into the fireplace and called her goodbye out alongside the name of where she was going.
The last thing she saw as she was spun away was Carina Black standing there, wincing as she turned and lifted a hand to her head.
