Aurora

The next day, after lunch, Anna and I headed back to the hospital wing to check on Draco. We never really had time to discuss what happened — Anna ignored all my attempts to start a conversation about it, and was constantly in a distant, cold alienation. Every time I was near her, there was tension in the air, and I could not help but notice it.

Thoughts about what had happened did not let me sleep well — I could not believe that Harry was somehow involved in what happened to Draco. Before my eyes, again and again, terrible pictures of his injuries arose — and it didn't fit in my head that a Gryffindor was capable of subjecting someone to such torture. I felt a burning desire to find Harry and talk to him — even with a vague feeling of fear that my worst fears would be confirmed — I had to know the truth. So far I have not been able to find him alone — not at breakfast today, not at dinner — these annoying Weasleys and Granger constantly followed him like faithful dogs.

I was also worried about Narcissa — the worst thing for a mother to see her son in such a state. And where? At school, it would seem that the safest place of all where one could be. Now nowhere can you feel completely safe.

While we were walking to the infirmary, I tried to talk to Anna and support her, but she only frowned in annoyance and pulled herself forward a little. I did not condemn her, but irritation slowly boiled up in my soul — after all, I had nothing to do with what happened, and did not contribute to the current situation in any way.

When we finally entered the room, we found that Draco's bed was empty.

"Merlin… Not this…" Anna said in a trembling voice and, not really caring about how it looked from the outside, she yelled at the top of her voice, rushing into the healer's office at the speed of light. "Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey, what happened? Where is he?!"

"Miss Black, calm down! What are you allowing yourself to do?" the healer replied indignantly, rushing out of her office and adjusting her glasses on her nose. "This is not a Quidditch pitch where you can scream at the top of your voice, but an infirmary."

"I'm sorry," Anna was slightly embarrassed and lowered her voice significantly. "Where is Draco, may I ask? What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing terrible happened, don't worry," Pomfrey said, much more gently now. "Mrs. Malfoy arrived this morning and took her son home. Say, according to her, at home he will have much better conditions for recovery than here," the healer added, deeply offended by Narcissa's doubts about her professionalism.

"Do you think he really does not need more hospitalization?" Anna asked again.

"Well, it was quiet at night. Of course, I would advise him to stay in the infirmary for at least another week, but…" Madam Pomfrey grunted, pursing her lips.

I breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at Anna, who was still unable to calm down.

"See, everything is fine. At home, he will really get better much faster," I smiled encouragingly at my friend, to which she only nodded.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey, we'll go already. Forgive me again," Anna drawled.

"Oh, Miss Black, I understand everything, but keep yourself in control."

"Yes, yes," Annabelle answered a little more quietly, rather under her breath, heading for the exit from the hospital wing.

"Don't worry Anna, he's on the mend, he's fine," I said as we walked back to our common room.

"Fine?" My friend stopped abruptly and looked at me. "Fine?! Are you kidding me?"

"Listen, Anna, of course, I understand that you are all on your nerves, but you don't need to try to break loose on me! It's not my fault what happened!"

"Of course you have nothing to do with it! And this beloved Potter of yours, he also has nothing to do with it, you mean?" Anna immediately soared, flashing like gunpowder, on which a can of gasoline was poured. "I'm ready to strangle this freak with my bare hands!"

"Don't you dare blame him! Just because he was there doesn't mean he was the one who cast the spell. He would never..."

"Do not be ridiculous! The whole school is buzzing like a beehive discussing what he did! They've always hated each other, and you know that very well."

"Potter doesn't even know such spells! This is a magic that no student can use, what are you talking about? Are you falling for the speculations of stupid gossips? And he couldn't. I can't believe... can't believe he's capable of something like this..."

"How do you know what he knows and what he doesn't? He's from Gryffindor, he's our enemy! You are fraternizing with the enemy - and not just with the enemy, but with a person who almost killed, I emphasize, almost killed... You are a traitor, that's who you are! Completely blinded by love for this... Gryffindor!"

"Stop yelling at me and judging things you don't know! You are not yourself. I was shocked by what I saw, and I care about Draco as much as you, by the way! And before blaming me, it would be better to remember how you mocked him, cursed and scandalized! Have you finally remembered that he is your fiancé?"

Anna's eyes flashed unkindly: it seemed that she no longer controlled herself.

"How dare you? From whom I did not expect, so it is from you! You're better off shielding Potter than being on my side, right? Wonderful! So run to him! And I'll deal with my problems myself," my friend shouted out insulted, and without waiting for my answer, she turned on her heels and rushed away.

I was left standing alone, stunned, and everything inside was bubbling with resentment and anger.

*

Dejectedly, I wandered into the library — for the first time during my studies at Hogwarts, there was no Annabelle near me, and a feeling of hopeless loneliness squeezed my heart like a vise.

Kicking open the door, I tried as quickly as possible to slip past the old hag Madam Pince, who looked at me with the warden's gaze and pursed her lips contemptuously:

"We're out soon, don't linger!"

"I hear, I hear," I barked and threw my bag onto the nearest free table.

There were hardly any students there, except for a bunch of frightened first years whispering in the far corner. The time was late, and I was going to finish my business as quickly as possible. I flopped down in a chair and reached for a bookcase on Transfiguration, when I suddenly noticed someone's painfully familiar dark-haired head, bent over a strange-looking textbook. The yellowed pages of the book were scrawled in slanted calligraphy, and Harry read the fine lines intently. He turned the page and slightly ruffled his crow's nest on his head.

"Harry!"

Hearing the sound of my voice, he shuddered and looked up at me, slightly distant, frightened. However, when he saw me, his eyes immediately lit up with joy — he quickly jumped up from the table, almost knocking over his chair, and I involuntarily burst out laughing: how cute and awkward he is.

Continuing to peer into his face, on which his every emotion was written, like on litmus paper, I approached him and carefully took his hand.

"You seem to have avoided me all this time."

"I wouldn't dare. Let's get out of here and talk somewhere quiet, shall we?"

His green eyes darted restlessly over my face, trying to read my thoughts. It seemed that he was trying to refute the words in advance, which I did not even have time to utter.

We silently left the library under the stern gaze of Madam Pince and a couple of first-years, conspiratorially whispering and shamelessly staring at us, pointing fingers.

"I'm used to this," Harry admitted, nodding in their direction, when we were alone in the corridor.

"And I haven't yet. It's a strange feeling. Listen, I wanted to ask you..."

I stuttered in mid-sentence, unable to continue any further — I was not sure what could be revealed as a result of our conversation.

As if reading my mind and sensing apprehension, he put his finger to my lips, preventing me from finishing my sentence.

"Ora…" he muttered under his breath, leaning closer to me and wrapping me in the strongest hug.

It couldn't be him. I thought, hugging him back and melting in his arms, feeling how, with the warmth and sense of security that each short meeting with him gave me, I was growing confident that he was in nothing. not guilty. Merlin, how much I missed him! And how could I ever doubt him? However, I needed to be completely sure of his innocence. I found the strength to open my arms and boldly looked into his eyes.

"Someone has done Draco a terrible injury. This is very strong dark magic," I said in a trembling voice. "Did you see who it was? You were there."

"Ora. Just don't jump to conclusions, please," Harry replied, pulling away from me a little and looking away.

He gazed at me again and, sighing, added:

"I accidentally cast a spell at Draco, not knowing how dangerous it is, how it works, and what consequences it can lead to."

These words hurt me worse than any knife.

"No... How could you? What if Snape hadn't been around? Would you leave him, or would you just stand there and watch him die?"

I pulled away from him, feeling anger seething inside me like a wild snake.

"No! We've always been enemies, but trust me, I didn't want to..."

"I should have known right away that there could be nothing in common between us. That between us is simply impossible relationship. You have always hated and will continue to hate Slytherins, it's just in your blood! But I never thought that you would sink to such a level... How could you thoughtlessly cast dark magic spells? Didn't you realize what it could turn into? You planned everything in advance and now you're trying to fool me? You wanted to kill him?"

"No! How can you think so? Listen, I swear to you, I really, you hear, I really didn't know what would come of this!"

"I don't want to listen to you anymore! You ruined everything! You ruined something that hadn't even started! I trusted you! I have believed..."

I felt my eyes sting, and, unable to continue this conversation, I turned around and rushed away, bumping into the dazed students. He darted after me, trying to hold my hand, but I wrenched my hand away, barely feeling the touch of his fingers.

"Don't touch me! Don't you dare come near me, touch me! I don't want to see you anymore. I can't treat you the way I used to. I'm sorry."

"Ora, stop! I beg you, come back!"

I heard his voice somewhere in the distance, echoing in the noisy crowd, pulsing somewhere in the area of the heart, pounding furiously in the chest, like a bird beating in a cage. Treacherous tears rolled down her cheeks, pain and disappointment tore her soul. Surprised faces flashed in front of me. My eyes were covered with a veil, and I no longer made out where I was rushing, not distinguishing or noticing anyone in front of me.

*

Annabelle

Unable to find a place for myself at Hogwarts, I decided to go home for the Easter holidays. For the first time ever, all alone.

I was hurt to tears that Ora took the side of that vile Potter. I didn't expect such a betrayal from her. How could she? After all, Draco was like a brother to her.

What about me? She knew perfectly well how it could all have ended if Draco had died. She would have lost both him and me. We all would be dead. Is this Potter more dear to her than us? We're her family, not him!

All these thoughts were eating me up inside. Loneliness was suffocating, squeezing its invisible fingers on the throat. I wanted to scream, to throw out this pain, but the paradox was that no one would hear anyway. I am alone, totally alone. And everyone doesn't care about me. Everyone except my father.

I wanted to see him as soon as possible, to feel like a little girl again, under his protection. And I didn't want to be tormented by thoughts of what would happen next.

Upon my arrival at Grimmauld, I wrote to Narcissa expressing my regret about what had happened and inquiring about Draco's well-being. Soon I received a dry answer, where she assured me that he was on the mend, that I should not worry. She seemed to still be unhappy with me for doing this to him this year, and even more so now. I felt sorry for her and did not want to make her sad, but life does not always turn out the way we want it to.

Narcissa's letter did not calm me down properly, and even the idea of spending the holidays at home, where I am loved, with my family, did not really save me, even though it was my best idea lately.

The first couple of days I could not recover at all from the stress experienced. I was afraid that Draco might not fully recover? What if he fails to complete his task? What if Narcissa is just trying not to alarm me, and in reality, things are much worse for Draco?

Before his eyes constantly popped up his terrible wounds, bloody bandages, his relaxed, as if dead, face. These memories made me sick.

I realized that I would not be able to completely calm down until I made sure personally that Malfoy really got better. And, although I have already stopped thinking about this idea, but now I still should visit the Manor.

It's not necessary to see Draco in person. I can just figure it out from the environment in the house. I'll ask Effy. After all, Draco and I are already officially engaged, and even if Effy does not serve me completely yet, he cannot refuse me or not let me into the house, even without the invitation of the owners.

I made such conclusions after another terrible night, when that same nightmare returned to me.

I seem to be screaming in my sleep, because on one of these nights, my father woke me with an extremely worried look.

"My girl, everything is fine, do you hear? You're at home, I'm here," he reassured me, when I couldn't even figure out where I was: whether at Hogwarts or at home. "I will never let anyone hurt you. Come on, it's all good..."

Dad hugged me like a child and stroked my head and back with soothing circular motions of his palm. Once in his arms, I soon felt better. I really felt subconsciously that when he was near, I had nothing to be afraid of, because I was like behind a stone wall. The warmth of his embrace and the native smell acted like a sleeping pill on me. And I fell asleep soon again.

*

After a couple of days, remembering Ora's vision of the Horcruxes and our idea to learn something about them, I decided to review the books of our small collection first. Yes, and I needed something to do in order to distract from bad thoughts. After dinner, when my grandmother went to her room, and my father seemed to be in his office, I crept into the living room and, being on my guard, began to leaf through ancient folios in search of any information. Some of them were locked in a glass cabinet, but I had known for a long time where the key was kept.

I flipped through page after page, not afraid to open even tomes on dark magic, but I could not find anything. Soon I was so carried away by the search for information that I abstracted from the outside world and did not hear my father enter the living room:

"Annabelle, I told you not to touch those books," he said, not so sternly as he was disappointed.

I immediately tensed as I slammed the book shut, feeling like a thief caught in the act, and instantly blushed with shame. More than anything, I didn't want to disappoint my father. Whatever I did, he was always on my side, and here... Merlin! I let him down like that.

"I'm sorry, dad," I breathed sincerely, unable to even turn to face him.

"You don't have to mess with someone like that," he came up to me and looked over my shoulder, reading the title of the book. "Dark magic is not a joke!" he added a little more sternly and took the book from my hands, putting it in its place and closing the cabinet, this time with a magic lock.

"I know dad, it's just…"

"You do understand how dangerous this is, don't you? That there won't be a way back?"

I was still ashamed to raise my eyes to him, because I could only feel in my gut how he was staring at me. I felt sick at his words. I immediately remembered the Imperius I used. Merlin, what if he found out about this?

"Yes, I understand," I said in a trembling voice, feeling that a little more and tears would flow from my eyes.

"Say thanks that it was me, and not your grandmother, who caught you reading such books," my father softened a little, seeing my condition. "What were you looking for? Tell me."

I was still staring at the floor, not daring to confess. I was incredibly ashamed and unpleasant to let my father down like that.

"If you want to know something, it's better to ask me than you will read something and misinterpret it," Sirius said in a more calm tone and I was surprised, finally looking up at my father. "Yes, yes, there's nothing to look at me like that, young lady, I understand that the forbidden fruit is sweet and you won't calm down anyway."

I tried to object, but my father chuckled, interrupting me:

"I know you too well, Annabelle. Therefore, it's better for me to tell you about what interests you."

To say I was shocked is an understatement. I blinked, feeling my tears disappear. I expected that my father would scold me for this, although he never did this, but still, my act had no justification, because he caught me in violation of his request. And here... Merlin! I was infinitely grateful to him for such a reaction.

"Do you know what Horcruxes are?" Finally, I squeezed out a question.

Father frowned, but his word was law. And since he promised to answer the questions that interest me, he is forced to keep this request.

"I heard that it is the highest dark magic. But I don't know anything more about them," he answered honestly and squinted a little, looking at me. "And where, may I ask, did you hear about it?"

"I…" Biting my lip, I hesitated for a long time to continue, but then, with a heavy sigh, I told my father about the vision of Ora.

Sirius listened attentively to my story, growing more and more gloomy with every word I said.

"That is very dangerous information. And if she is really connected with the Dark Lord, then he will not be happy with the one who revealed his secrets," my father looked at me with excitement in his eyes and took my hand. Don't tell anyone about this, do you hear me? If anyone finds out that you and Ora are aware of such information, you will be in great danger."

It hurt my heart to look at my father in such a state. It showed how much he was afraid for me.

"All right, dad. I won't tell anyone," I assured him.

"Swear it, Anna. Swear it because it's not a joke. No one must know about these Horcruxes."

I just had time to nod, when suddenly we shuddered, hearing the voice of my grandmother from the threshold:

"What are you talking about here?" she asked menacingly, her eyes flashing.

Merlin! How long had she been standing at the door, and what had she heard? I exchanged a frightened glance with my dad and looked at my grandmother again, trying to understand at least something from her look.

"Educational conversation, mother," Sirius found what to answer. "Nothing more. Would you like to join?"

"And what has my only granddaughter done again?"

I swallowed nervously, imagining how my grandmother would have scolded me if she had found me here. I looked at her again. Despite her unimpressive appearance and worsened health since Christmas, I did not like her menacing look. It seemed like she knew everything. And even more. And... is she flustered?

"Nothing to worry about, Mother," my father defended me.

"Well, Sirius, shield her further. Let's see what it will lead to," my grandmother shook her head and somehow quickly stopped this conversation, which surprised me. She was a bit overly anxious and nervous, or something. "While you two are here, I want to remind you that today is Regulus's birthday, so I won't be late for today's memorial dinner."

I drooped, remembering what day it was. Grandmother held a memorial dinner every year with lit candles, asked Kreacher to bring her all the portraits of Uncle Regulus that were in the house. And from her room, I often heard their conversations, so clearly! Sometimes it seemed that these were not voices from portraits, but something more.

"And yes, Annabelle, bring me my brooch. Yesterday I noticed that she was getting dusty. It's time to take it to the jeweler for cleaning, you wear it too often. It is unsuitable to wear such jewelry every day. This is bad manners, young lady," Grandmother remarked sternly, and without waiting for an answer, as if it were not a request, but an order, she left the living room.

Merlin! How lucky that the brooch was found. What would I do now if grandma wanted to take it? Well, it was the best idea to leave it at home. That way I won't lose her brooch again.

I shifted my gaze to my father and noticed that he was in some prostration, looking thoughtfully at one point. Something in my chest hurt at the sight of him. It seemed as if universal sadness hung over his head like a heavy burden and he had aged ten years. What could have saddened him so much? Had the mention of Uncle Regulus made him so worried?

"Daddy," I whispered and leaned against his chest, closing my eyes, as if trying to comfort him in this way. My father wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head, sighing heavily.

Merlin! How afraid I was for him! Why is this all happening to us? Why has our family been so unfortunate? First uncle, now we are all in danger. Because we are on the side of evil? But we just wanted to build a new world... It seems to be.

"Daddy," I called again. "Why did you become a Death Eater?" I suddenly asked and immediately felt my father tense up at this question.

I had never even thought about it before, I had absolutely no desire to know the reason why my father entered the service of the Dark Lord. For me it was a matter of course, as if it had to be. Before, I never doubted the correctness of such a decision, besides, it never interfered with our lives, as far as I remembered. Indeed, until recently, the Dark Lord was considered dead by many. And when he was revived, all our friends and relatives were only glad to see him return, because, according to them, it was necessary to shake up this world and change its order long ago.

"Annabelle, this is a very complicated story," her father said with tension in his voice. "Someday I'll tell you for sure, but not today."

"But you wanted this? Did you believe... in the Dark Lord?" I asked again in a whisper, apprehensively.

"I didn't have any options," he replied. I felt the pain in his voice and I felt a little ashamed that I had brought this topic up.

"What about now? Do you think he's right?" I did not let up.

"You see, my dear, entering the service of the Dark Lord is a one-way ticket. It won't work to back down, no matter what I think about him..."

"How did Uncle Regulus fail?"

"Yes," he sighed heavily. "There is no place for fear here."

"Do you think Draco is going to have the same fate as Uncle Regulus?"

I shuddered, frightened by my own thoughts, and my father felt it, hugging me tighter and pulling me closer:

"Don't worry about him, I don't think his aunt," Sirius snorted in disgust and continued, "will let hurt him."

"I'm not worried about him, but for all of us!"

"It's not worth it, Anna," my father assured me, knowing what I mean. "Snape's words are hollow threats. He could have settled old scores with me in this way, frightening you."

I nodded, but I knew and felt that he was saying that on purpose, so that I would not worry. He tried to inspire confidence in me that everything would be fine, but he himself was not sure.

"I hope you and Ora were no longer influenced by Snape?" he asked, and I felt my heart hurt at the mention of the name of a friend. I did not want to admit to myself that I missed her, I still felt betrayed and was very resentful of her.

"No," I answered sadly and pulled away from my father, looking thoughtfully at the fire. He released me from his arms and looked at me intently, as if trying to understand what was happening to me.

"That's good. You shouldn't interfere in anything. Even though he is your dean, you don't have to trust him so blindly. You never know what he was up to in order to curry favor with the Dark Lord," he said sternly. "Promise me, Anna, that you won't interfere anywhere."

I quickly turned my gaze to him. How could I promise my father such a thing? There were so many things I had to do to protect him! I could not sit idly by.

"Annabelle," Sirius repeated insistently.

"Yes, Dad," I replied in a weak voice, nodding. "I promise."

"Good. And now, go to your own place," my father said in joking severity, and then added a little gloomily. "And I still have something to do, I'm being called to the Death Eaters meeting tomorrow, so don't wait too early."

"Be careful, dad," I drawled excitedly, looking at my father.

He smiled at me and nodded as he left the living room, but his pensiveness and sadness did not escape my gaze. I don't think I should have touched on such topics and I felt guilty for upsetting my father.

*

Late in the evening, I decided to go check on my dad, because it seemed to me that our conversation had not affected him in the most favorable way. Not finding him in the room and living room, I went to his office. After knocking three times, I did not wait for an answer, so I decided to quietly open the door and peered inside with curiosity.

The office was in deep twilight, the only light came from some object on the desk, which in the semi-darkness I could not see from the threshold. It illuminated the dozing Sirius in a leather armchair near the table, just under the window. The wind tousled his hair and it was quite chilly in the office. The velvet curtains were parted and the window sash was ajar. A merciless cold spring wind blew into the room, interspersed with rain.

Quietly, on tiptoe, so as not to disturb my father, I made my way to the window, trying not to stumble along the way on the various magical objects that my father was enthusiastically studying, and not to wake him. As quietly as I could, I closed the window and groped my way to the sofa against the wall of bookshelves. I knew that there was always a blanket there — that's what I needed. Having successfully crossed the distance in the semi-darkness, I carefully covered my father with a blanket and looked at the surface of the table.

There was a complete mess: scrolls of parchment were scattered, the pen lay on a blank sheet, ink dripped from it and formed a huge blot on the parchment. A book of some kind fell to the floor, apparently dropped from my father's hands when he fell asleep. I carefully picked it up and laid it on the table, then picked up the quill and returned it to its place in the inkwell. It was only then that I saw that under this huge blot there were perfectly written letters. The first half of them was drowned in ink, but the second half made my heart clench painfully from melancholy. It was my mother's name.

I could only imagine how my father missed my mother. Sometimes it seemed to me that I could relate to this easier, because I didn't know her at all, and he... Father loved her and very much. I definitely knew. I saw it in his eyes when he looked at me, even though I didn't look much like her in appearance. But dad always said that I got a smile and eyes colour from my mother.

Wonder what it's like to love so much?

I continued to arrange the scrolls and parchments on my father's desk, arranging everything so that no other sheet was exposed to sudden spills of ink. It's good that there was plenty of light and, finally, putting everything in its place, I was still interested: what was its source.

Straining my eyes, getting used to the bright light, I turned my gaze to its epicenter and froze in place. Looks like it was a Pensieve. I knew that my grandmother had one, but I had never seen it with my own eyes, and even more so, I had never used it.

I knew it was bad, but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to see what kind of memories my father wanted to brush up on in his memory again.

Having approached the Pensieve a little, I bent over him and instantly felt how I was being twisted into some kind of whirlwind. And now, I see my father, but much younger, in our house. It seems that he was in a hurry somewhere and hastily packed things...