Dedication: Hey Elle Ryder, here's a super belated birthday present. :) I hope you had a wonderful birthday. ;)
Warnings: Not fully edited. That is, less edited than usual.
Pairings: Sirius/Fem!Harry. Severus/(?) (Just reiterating it.)
Disclaimer: You know who owns what.
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THREADS OF TIME
Chapter 12
"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."
~ William Blake ~
"He's still mad at me," grumbles Bella, lying on her bed haphazardly.
"I'd be mad at you too, duckie, if you'd done that to me," says her godmother calmly, from where she's leaning against the wall. Bella sniffs and turns away.
"I've apologised to him, but I honestly don't feel bad about what I did. Yes, I'm sorry that the timing was off, but I'm not sorry about what I did. I saved his arse!"
"Have you tried not apologising to him, then? Remus told me that it wasn't just you who was in on this. It was you and him and Dumbledore. And he's still talking to Remus, isn't he?"
Bella groans and covers her face with a pillow. She knows that the whole situation is much more awkward than what it would have been simply because of that kiss they shared under the mistletoe. More like 'those kisses'.
"Should I give him his Yule gift?" she asks at long last, just as the part of the mattress next to her head sinks a little. Helen's now sitting right beside her. Bella can feel Helen's fingers on her scalp, as the blonde witch proceeds to run her fingers through her hair soothingly.
It's something that no one has ever done before, and Bella tries to not think too much why she feels so sadly happy.
"He'll get over it, duckie. Just leave his present in his room when he's not around. Now come on, Twigsy can make us hot chocolate, and then we can take Harry out to play in the snow."
OoOoO
Bella sits in Helen's library a few days later, uncreasing the bit of parchment in her hand as she goes through it. She's just finished her Potions exam, and is thankful that she'll be getting a tiny break now.
.
OWL TIMETABLE (WINTER 1981)
Dec 14th (M) - Charms P/T
Dec 15th (T) - Transfiguration P/T
Dec 16th (W) - HOM T (Evening), Astronomy T (Afternoon) P (Night)
Break for Yule
Dec 26th (Sa) - Defence P/T
Dec 28th (M) - Herbology P/T
Dec 29th (T) - Potions P/T
Break for New Year's
Jan 4th (M) - CoMC P/T
Jan 5th (T) - Arithmancy T
Jan 6th (W) - Divination P/T
o
Please read the rules and regulations overleaf before appearing for the examination.
.
Bella stares at the last three dates despondently, not interested in studying any of the subjects mentioned there. Merlin knows she hates Divination. But Helen has forced her to write the examination.
And Arithmancy! Though she had taken it up in her Third Year, she'd quit it halfway through her Fourth. And hadn't Helen been horrified when she'd learnt how Bella dropped the subject to focus on the Triwizard Tournament... Why did she have to be so worried about Bella's academics?
Bella doesn't understand the necessity to write these stupid examinations in such a hurry – Helen only says it's needed for further training, but what's the fucking hurry? Why isn't anyone telling her to just enjoy life?
It's not like she's truly learning anything – these exams cater to her earning a certificate on paper, and nothing more. There is no actual point in writing them. Getting an OWL is not the same as having learnt that subject.
It's during moments like these that she misses her Sirius, her real Sirius. The one who was her godfather, whom she had most certainly not kissed on the lips.
Knowing that she's about to start crying, she decides to spend some time with her personal physical cheering charm, Harry. The toddler has a way of making her smile that no one else possesses or ever possessed.
After finding out from Twigsy where Harry is, Bella casts a warming charm on herself and almost runs down the icy path that connects the house to a magically warmed greenhouse.
It's only as she enters the place that she realises Sirius is there, scowling at her. Bella can feel her face flush.
Harry makes his presence known from behind the orchids by calling out, "La! Eer!"
It pleases her so much to hear him string together two words, even if it's to boss her around. So Bella faithfully turns around the table of orchids to find Harry sitting on some mud, drawing squiggles onto the floor.
He looks up and smiles at her brightly, which of course makes her bend down and give him a kiss on the nose. He wrinkles his nose and goes back to scribbling on the floor.
Now she understands why Sirius isn't sitting down; it's because there's soil on the floor, obviously fallen from one of the pots. But fuck it, she's not him. She doesn't care about her clothes. So she sits down on the floor opposite Harry, crossing her legs.
She starts playing with Harry, and her latest game is pretending to hide her face behind a pot of blue roses, when she notices that the dog Animagus must have slipped out sometime in the middle of her games with the baby.
Bella holds back a sigh and lifts the squirming toddler, seeing as it's getting dark outside. She casts a warming spell on the both of them, before returning to the mansion.
Sirius giving her the cold shoulder is not only hurtful, but also annoying. So in a moment of very rational thinking, she decides to give him the silent treatment as well.
OoOoO
The next day, Bella receives a letter addressed to her. From the handwriting on the envelope, she already knows who the writer is. After all, she had pored over this person's Potions book rabidly once upon a time.
'Ms. Potter,
There is something your mother once left in my possession. It rightfully belongs to you. Kindly meet with me at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade on a day suitable to you.
Regards,
Severus Snape.'
Bella has very conflicting feelings about Snape, despite what she'd said the other day to Sirius. The mere fact that he loved Lily didn't redeem him of his other sins, such as joining the Death Eaters willingly. And even if that was a consequence of James' bullying, didn't the question of inner morality and good come up?
And what about the Snape of her own thread? Just because she could forgive him for his misdeeds, just because he'd sacrificed his life, didn't mean she will forget how awful he was to her.
She pens a quick reply saying she can meet him on the 6th, at 6:00 pm, only to find that the Hogwarts school owl he'd used has already left the house. So she's forced to step out of her room and go to the balcony, where there's a perch for Hedwig. She sees the snowy white owl off with an owl treat, before turning to come back inside, when she pauses.
From her place on the balcony, she can see Sirius and Helen playing with Harry, and she feels forgotten, unwanted. They make such a pretty picture, Harry flying his broom excitedly and Sirius laughing with his head thrown back.
Bella feels invisible.
Almost as if he can sense her distress, Helen's eagle owl hops onto her shoulder and lovingly rubs his head onto her ear.
"Thanks, Rufus," she whispers quietly, feeding him some owl treats before making her way back into her room.
OoOoO
"C'mon, we have to stay up!" says Ginny, pulling her off the bed.
"Mione, tell this girl to leave me alone," she grumbles, burying her face back into the pillow, single-handedly pulling her blankets around her.
"Fred and George have planned a party to celebrate Mr. Weasley being discharged. You really should get up."
Everything goes quiet and Bella thinks they've both gone down, when the blanket is ripped from her just as someone forcefully pulls away her pillow.
It's to the sound of cheerful giggling that Bella tiredly gets off the bed, wondering why the twins couldn't have planned the party for a more normal time, even if 'turn-of-the-year' parties are to celebrated at midnight.
.
It's with a sense of déjà vu that Bella gets up tiredly, finding Helen peering closely at her face. In the semi-darkness, the other woman's usually tawny eyes seem to have purplish flecks, and it just feels creepy.
"What?" she asks Helen groggily.
"The flower's about to bloom, come on!" she says, pulling Bella out of her bed.
"What flower?"
"Take your camera and come. Fast," urges the older witch.
Bella pulls on a bathrobe and picks up her wand and camera and goes outside to find Helen standing with Harry. He's wide awake, though a glance at the mantelpiece clock says that it's two in the morning.
"What's this, Helen? Why is Harry up?"
"We'll talk as we go upstairs," she says, leading the way. Bella trudges up slowly, waiting for her godmother to start explaining.
Surprisingly, when Helen starts talking, she can't seem to stop. She talks, and talks, and talks, and Bella thinks the other woman needs to take a breath.
"As I already told you, your mother and I were close friends, and she once told me that she had a classmate who owned a rare plant that bloomed once in twelve years. Lily got to see the plant bloom once when she was in Hogwarts, and she so badly wanted to see it bloom, just once again. She wanted to have it in the living room at Godric's Hollow.
"We both knew that she didn't have another twelve years to live, and I suppose I could have bought her a plant that would have bloomed the next year or so, but there were other more important things to occupy her mind, and she forgot about that fancy of hers. But I didn't forget, not really. I guess it was there at the back of my mind.
"When I was in Germany earlier this month, I helped out a Herbologist and his wife. They are specialists who grow plants available in tropical countries. They were ever so grateful that when I asked for this plant – which I learnt from them is called Neelakurinji – they very kindly just gave it to me. And according to my Arithmancy calculations, it's due to bloom tonight, within the hour."
"Okay," says Bella, because there really is nothing else left to say. The name sounds foreign to her, but most magical names have roots in other languages, so she lets it slide. She takes Harry from Helen, setting the camera on the floor, letting her baby brother nuzzle himself in her arms.
The sound of the camera flashing startles Bella, and she turns to her right to see that Helen has taken a picture of the two of them.
"Now smile," she insists, and Bella does so tiredly, pointing at the camera so that Harry would look in that direction.
Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later, she watches the purple flower of the Neelakurinji plant bloom.
OoOoO
It's some time later – Bella doesn't know how long it is, but going by how much the moon has moved, she reckons it's a few hours.
"You still haven't fallen asleep?" asks Helen, and Bella shifts on the blanket to face her godmother without disturbing Harry, who's fast asleep in her arms.
"I can't," she says simply, before going back to staring at Harry's face.
"We finally have time to talk," says the other witch, and Bella looks up again, to see the blonde shrug her shoulders nonchalantly.
"Talk about what?" she asks. She isn't the best conversationalist at half five in the morning.
"What about all those million questions you keep asking, which I keep evading?" she asks, a trace of a smile on her face.
Bella doesn't know what to say. "Uh, I have no idea where to start," she says at long last, just as she realises that she's gotten the question about telescope lenses in her Astronomy paper wrong.
Staring at the telescope situated farther away prompts her into realising that the focal length she got as the answer for question 32(b) is wrong. She didn't consider that the light source was at infinite distance.
"Sorry, what?" she asks, when she sees Helen looking at her expectantly, as though waiting for a reply.
"Maybe you can start with the first question on your list?" repeats Helen, and it takes a moment for Bella to actually understand the question.
"List? You mean the list I made for my private use?" she shrieks, a bit too much like Petunia, causing Harry to turn in her arms.
"You really shouldn't leave your things lying around, then," says Helen with a hint of a smirk on her face, and Bella resists the childish urge to smash a decorative rock onto Helen's face.
"I value my privacy, you know?" she says curtly.
"Well, duckie. That list is really long. Don't you want to get started?" she asks, completely ignoring what Bella has said.
"Okay, why are you forcing me to write the OWLs right now? You didn't even give me a say in the matter. You don't know anything about my past, and it's not right of you to impose your wishes on me," Bella says sharply, and in response, Helen's eyebrows just shoot up coolly.
"You've had that on your mind since November, haven't you?" she asks, a slightly smug smile gracing her pixie-like features. "An OWL certificate is the most basic prerequisite for a witch or a wizard to start their affinity training. And before you ask," she says, seeing that Bella's about to interrupt, "It's because each and every person who wishes to receive professional training for their affinity has to register themselves with the BAA - The Board of Affinity and Arts – and the board stupidly demands an OWL certificate."
"But what's the hurry?"
"It's important to start things on specific days – it's good luck. Usually the winter examinations get over a little before Yule, so that people can start their training on the solstice. The correction is swift and the certificates are sent to the BAA directly if the student places a prior request. So the student and the chosen mentor need to visit the BAA, whose headquarters are in Scotland, by the way, and officially register."
"And what if a person starts training without registering or before registering?"
"Once a person starts apprenticing, they'll be given special insignias to wear on their sleeves. The colour changes as the level of proficiency increases. And the BAA issues them. If a person has already started training, the insignia won't remain a dull black when the person wears it – dull black means zero, or very basic knowledge. If that happens, the BAA will Obliviate the person's lessons, and place the mentor under probation."
"But that makes no sense! What if someone doesn't register at all?"
"Then they can't say they've been trained in their affinity, can they? They can't use it in their résumé, they can't offer help with or advice on something they're good at, they can't write a book on their discoveries, they can't offer to mentor another person – life would become hard."
"But why maintain such close tabs on everyone at all?" asks Bella, still not sure why the wizards and witches of this thread have so many weird rules that seem to serve no purpose.
"That's something you'll learn eventually, Bella. I can't tell you." When she sees the expression on Bella's face, she adds, "I'm bound by my oath to the BAA."
"You still haven't told me why you're in a hurry."
"Your awakening," she says slowly, as she stares at Bella intently, "Is supposed to change things. Change things for the better. And there are people out there who're suffering. I don't want to keep them from getting the help they need."
Bella processes what she's just heard for a moment, before opening her mouth to speak. But Helen beats her to it.
"I need to leave now, duckie. I have a Portkey to Romania in an hour," she says, looking down at her watch before shrugging her shoulders in an apologetic manner. Her tone, though, doesn't sound apologetic in the least.
"What for?"
"I'll tell you when the time's right," she says, before getting up swiftly and striding out of the garden-observatory-whatever.
Bella looks down at the face of the sleeping baby in her arms, and moves a hand to smoothen a tuft of Harry's hair which refuses to sit down. She does the action without thinking – her thoughts are occupied with what Helen had said, and Bella vaguely feels that her godmother is being obtuse on purpose.
Suddenly there are footsteps behind her, and a millisecond after she catches sight of Helen, she's pulled into a tight hug by Helen.
"You didn't think I'd leave without telling my goddaughter goodbye, did you?" she asks, before kissing Bella's forehead. It reminds her of Tonks – Tonks used to kiss her that way, and Bella swallows heavily.
Helen draws back when Harry turns and makes a disgruntled noise, and smiles at the boy, before reaching out and pinching Bella's cheeks.
"Now make nice with Black before your next exam, okay? And I'll be back on the 4th, so we can revise Arithmancy. I've instructed Twigsy to remind you to drink your daily health potion, so be a good girl and drink them up on time."
Bella scowls at the other witch, who chuckles.
"Don't be like that, my baby duckie," she says in a patronising voice.
"Fine, happy new year," says Bella churlishly.
"Happy new year to you too, darling," Helen says, before tapping Bella on the nose. For some unknown reason, the action makes Bella smile.
"Travel safe," she wishes Helen sincerely.
"I will," replies Helen.
OoOoO
Bella wakes up when she feels small hands pattering against her face. Sleepily, she opens her eyes to see than Harry is up next to her. She can't help the smile that breaks out on her face.
"Hi Harry," she tells him gently, as he continues tapping her face.
"La Bella," he says, and Bella's smile turns into a broad grin.
"Oh sweetheart," she coos, as she picks him while still lying down. She holds him up in the air, parallel to her, smiling indulgently as Harry shrieks happily. She thinks there's no better way to start the new year.
"Don't hold him so precariously," comes a cold voice from the doorway, and Bella almost drops Harry.
"So you're talking to me now?" she says tonelessly, still holding Harry up.
"I told you to not hold him like that," Sirius says harshly, striding into her room towards her bed. He tries to take Harry away from her, but she grips her brother tighter, not letting go. She's stubborn. She will not bow down to anyone else.
"Give him to me!"
"What's your problem, leave us alone!"
In a matter of moments, there's a mini tug of war, with Harry caught between them, but Bella loosens her grip the second Harry cries out of pain. It seems like Sirius decides to loosen his grip as well, because Harry falls down on her chest, before he begins to bawl.
"Look what you did!" Bella says loudly, as she sits up, clutching Harry to her chest, trying to soothe the baby.
"I told you not to hold him that way," growls Sirius, as he sits down next to her. He tries to take Harry from her, but the boy buries his face further into Bella's t-shirt.
"Shh, it's okay," Bella tries soothing him, in vain. For some reason, the imprint isn't working its magic, and she doesn't know why.
It's finally Sirius who manages to calm the baby down, by transfiguring his nose to look like a clown's. Harry does stop crying, but his lips still wobble like he's a hat's drop away from crying again.
Sirius turns himself into Padfoot and playfully licks at Harry's face till Bella's brother starts giggling again, playing with the large black dog beside them. Bella watches them play, her heart a little heavy, till Padfoot suddenly looks up at her and nudges her hand with his nose.
Bella scratches him between his ears, and watches with a smile as Harry makes his intentions of wanting to climb onto the dog's back clear. When Padfoot gives his consent, she helps Harry get the piggyback (doggy-back) ride he'd wanted, all the while following the pair barefoot.
She keeps her wand ready, in case Harry falls off, but Padfoot is careful, and Harry never falls.
When they're done with the ride and Harry's been safely deposited onto the floor of his nursery, Bella bends down and gives the dog an affectionate kiss on its nose. The dog doesn't react, but he continues wagging his tail.
She wonders why things between her and Sirius can't be as simple as the things between her and Padfoot.
OoOoO
Bella is too keyed up from her Arithmancy exam to be able to nap properly. She has to 'study' for Divination tomorrow, but fuck that. She doesn't even know why she chose that lame subject in this thread.
So she retreats to the library, where there's a nice long table to sit and work comfortably at, and does what most human beings do every new year – she makes a list of her new year's resolutions.
Somewhere in the middle of making her resolutions, she finds herself blinking quite a few times, the warmth from the fire lulling her. And then she's out like a candle in the wind.
When she wakes up a little while later, she finds that night has set in, and the fire in the fireplace has gone down. There are only a few embers burning eerily in the darkness.
As the last dredges of sleep leave her mind, she realises with horror that she hasn't started studying for Divination yet. A glimpse at her wristwatch doesn't help, it's too dark. She finds her wand on the chair next to her and whoa – it's seven already!
She has her exam in fifteen hours. And she's not even sure if she wants to study the subject.
"Oh good, madam is finally awake! I can light up the library and stoke the fire!" exclaims a voice from somewhere in the doorway, and Bella recognises it to be Rafal, the house-elf in charge of the library.
"Hello Rafal," she calls out, her voice thick from sleep.
"Mistress Helen asked me to tell Madam Bella that she should eat when she gets up, and that Twigsy has made rice pudding specially for madam," he says, as he switches on the lights – Bella still finds it funny that there are switches used for the lights, when the bulbs don't run on electricity – they simply hold an enchanted flame inside.
Bella's grogginess leaves her when she sees the Yule present she'd left for Sirius in his room a couple of days back sitting in front of her. The gift hasn't even be opened yet, and Bella squashes down the stab of anger that she feels.
The package, still in its clean wrappings, mocks her, as it sits there inconspicuously in front of her.
When she goes to her bedroom to freshen herself up a little, she plants the package in the lowermost drawer, where she keeps the socks that she doesn't like.
Bella had offered Sirius an olive branch, and he'd sent it back to her, broken into twigs and leaves.
OoOoO
Less than twenty-four hours later, Bella finds herself entering The Three Brroomsticks a little warily. There's a much younger Rosmerta, just in her twenties, serving people drinks.
She's never seen Rosmerta wear such a bright shade of lipstick, but then it's just the early eighties, and people probably wore stuff like that back then in her thread as well.
Bella awkwardly stands in the middle of the doorway and tries to find Snape, only to be asked to move aside rather rudely by some fellow in a large felt fedora that covers his face.
She scowls and resumes her search, till she finds Snape sitting at the farthest table, at a place where there isn't much light. He has a sullen expression on his seemingly jaundiced face, and has an aura which seems to be sucking in the scanty light that falls around him. He's already started drinking, she notices.
"Severus Snape?" she asks, when she approaches the table. He looks up at her, eyeing her warily, his hands nursing a glass of Firewhisky.
"Ms. Potter?" he asks, his voice breaking. Bella's never heard his voice sound this way, even when he was dying in her thread. It's such a sharp contrast to the dulcet soft tenor he used to adopt to terrorise the students.
"That's me," she says, pulling out the chair opposite to him, before she sits down.
There are a few moments of awkward silence, Bella assuming that he'd start the conversation, till she finally decides to open her mouth and get it over with. She isn't very good with people, let alone people she hated throughout her schooling, even if it was in a parallel dimension.
"Thank you for the prompt delivery of Polyjuice," she says, and Snape takes a sip of his drink, staring into the bottom of the glass, before looking up and nodding curtly.
"Was it your own brewing?"
"Yes," he answers, and she thinks a monosyllabic answer is an improvement over a nonverbal one.
"Well, thanks," she finishes, not knowing what else to say.
"Are you really Lily's daughter?" he asks at long last.
"Mmhmm," Bella replies, as she takes a sip of the Butterbeer Rosmerta had provided her with just moments before.
"Pardon my asking, but are you Dark?"
"Considerably so," she answers.
"Thank you," he says, and his voice breaks again, "For allowing me to attend Lily's funeral. You have no idea how much it means to me." He wears an expression of woe, but a voice in her head screams that this is the man who leaked the prophecy.
"That wasn't me – Lily wanted you there. And I do have an idea as to what it meant to you," she replies, and she has a feeling her tone is colder than necessary.
He looks at her questioningly, but she ignores it, opting to finish her mug at one go. When she's done, she places it gently on the table, though she pictures herself to be slamming it forcefully onto the tabletop instead, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
"You said you had something for me?" she prompts, tired all of a sudden. She wants to go home and crash. She's dead sleepy, and the Re-Vitalix potions at work in her bloodstream tell her it's time to sleep.
"Ah, yes," he says, before taking a mouldy looking velvet box from his inner pocket.
Bella prays to Merlin, Morgana and every other deity out there that he isn't going to propose to her. According to the history textbooks she'd studied from, this thread has had a lot of spontaneous proposals based on magical signatures. Bella prays this isn't one of them.
"This belonged to your mother," he says, and pushes it across the table to her.
Bella gingerly picks up the box, expecting it to fall apart at any minute, and opens it. It's a fairly large pendant of a butterfly – its blue crystals shining eerily in the dim light – and a chain that has paint peeling from it.
She's still looking at it, when Snape continues speaking. The most she's heard him speak where he hasn't insulted her or her father, in fact.
"It belonged to your mother. She gave it to me the day before we left for Hogwarts for the first time – your mother and I were childhood friends, you see – and she asked me to keep it safe. She didn't know about the customs that witches and wizards followed. She wanted something old and blue, something she could borrow, for her wedding. She asked me to keep it safe, so that she could borrow it from me before her wedding," he says, and there's a pang inside Bella, as she runs her finger over the pendant.
An eleven year old Lily had worn it; had hoped for a bright and happy future. An eleven year old Lily had dreamt about a wedding, and planned for it the way a child could.
Her mother had once worn it, and now, Bella is holding it.
"Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue," she whispers quietly, looking up to meet Snape's obsidian eyes. There's a moment of understanding that passes between them.
She stays for a few more drinks, awkwardness forgotten, as night falls outside, and alcohol fuels her being.
OoOoO
Sirius glares at the wand that rests on his left palm. He rotates it to face a different direction, all without taking a break from glaring at it.
"Point me," he growls irritably, for the eighth time that day. His wand once again spins and points towards Is–Potter's room, much to his annoyance. He scowls at the piece of wood, before walking towards her door slowly.
His wand can't have failed him, he decides. The stupid bint must have taken his motorcycle's keys – there's no other reason for his wand to point to her room.
He warily opens the door which has been left partly open, not sure if he wants to talk to her at all. He still hasn't forgiven her for manipulating him two weeks back.
But it's hard to stay angry at her when she throws those hurt looks of hers, and when Remus insists on repeating the importance of having been lied to – that he's essentially not in Azkaban because of Isobel's harebrained plan, and how the Animagus test had been a narrow miss.
And if anything is clear, it's that Harry will choose her over him in a heartbeat – there's no contest. Sirius wants to believe that it's because of the imprint, but he's not blind – he can see the genuine bond the two have formed and he can't help how he feels – he'd been the only one who could elicit those special giggles of Harry's, and now he's not the only one.
He feels replaced – he's not the one Harry loves most after his parents, it's Isobel.
The door creaks slightly, bringing him out of his musings. In the faint moonlight that streams in through the window, he remembers that it's the full moon in three days – it's hard being the only Marauder left to help Moony.
The figure on the bed tosses again, and in the silvery moonlight, he can see the curtain of black hair spayed over the white of the pillows.
"Point me," he whispers, all the time watching Isobel as she breathes shallowly.
His wand spins slightly, pointing to the large chest of draws to his left. He has no idea where his key could be – it's a large chest – when it strikes him that all he has to do is Accio it.
So he opens all the drawers, wincing as the one in the middle makes a grating noise as it's opened. He flashes a quick look at the bed to see that Isobel seems to have moved once again, but returns his attention to the chest.
He's about to cast the summoning spell, when the figure on the bed whimpers. Sighing, he shuts the drawer, keeping an eye on the sleeping form that's tangled up uncomfortably in sheets.
Sirius approaches the bed as quietly as possible, her distressed movements making it clear that she's suffering from some kind of nightmare. The Muggles have a term for it – PTSD.
He thinks Flamel was right in a way to keep the teenager busy with OWLs. As far as he can remember, Isobel didn't have any episodes in the time she was filling her head with academic trivia.
The moonlight bounces off her face, he notices, just as he realises that there are tears glinting, making a path from the corner of her eyes to her pillow. Sirius hates the way he finds those pearl-like tears intriguing – he should be more compassionate; he shouldn't be feeling curious.
Sirius sits down on her bed gingerly, brushing her hair off her sticky forehead. He tries to fix her blanket and sheets, even as she twists, speaking incoherent things every now and then.
In the end, he resorts to casting a cooling charm on her blankets and on her – it's impossible to try to calm her manually.
"Cedric," she mumbles once, and he wonders for a moment if this is someone she loved back in her own time. Maybe this Cedric was a best friend, maybe he was a lover, maybe he was an enemy – Sirius realises there's so much he doesn't know about her.
And knowledge is power, as his father always says.
He ends up staying the night in her room, smoothing her hair and trying to soothe her, waiting for her to start sleeping comfortably. She doesn't fall into a restful sleep till dawn is about to break, but he's okay with that.
He owes Lily and James so much. And as much as he hates to admit it, he knows he owes Isobel at least some gratitude, even if he doesn't owe her an apology.
Sitting up for a few hours for her, whether she knows it or not, is the best way he can repay her, Sirius decides.
He doesn't wipe those tears of hers away, perversely fascinated by how they roll up her face, how they stick to strands of her hair like dew drops – he watches.
And when the sun breaks out, he closes her curtains, and places one last cooling charm on her forehead, before letting himself out quietly.
OoOoO
It's been a week since her exams got over, and Bella finds that her nightmares are back with a bang. And some sick masochistic streak in her prompts her to not drink Dreamless Sleep.
And that's why she's up right now, lying in the silvery light coming in through the window. She finds it hard to sleep. It's like her body is rejecting the very concept of sleep, just so she won't have to face Hermione and Ron again.
She's lying down on her bed, dressed fully, her boots alone off. She'd gone hiking through the woods behind the manor, in an effort to tire herself enough to fall asleep – but to no avail.
But she definitely had had fun with Harry, even stumbling across a frozen brook, which had fascinated her brother just as much as it had fascinated her. She'd wanted to explore beyond the brook, but Harry had refused to budge.
And then she'd taught (tried to teach) him to make snow angels, just the way Ron had taught her back in her First Year, but of course, she'd cast and recast warming spells on Harry, so as to not risk him catching pneumonia.
It's with a smile that she continues toying with the butterfly pendant – a habit she's gotten into ever since she started wearing it – wondering what she can do next with Harry. Once summer sets in, she can take him to the seaside, take him to the beach – something she's personally wanted to do her entire life, and no, the stay at Shell Cottage doesn't count. And maybe before that, she could teach him to sing nursery rhymes, just to improve his vocabulary?
Bella pulls the pendant, feeling the chain strain against her neck. She'd replaced the cheap metal chain with a proper, strong platinum one the day after Snape had given it to her, just so she could wear it all the time. It feels like she has a part of Lily with her, and she wonders if her mother, from her own thread, had entrusted Snape with anything like this. And if yes, why didn't he show it to her in those memories he gave her towards the end of his life?
Bella's already open door swings further open, and Bella stills herself, a moment away from reaching out for her wand in its holster.
The dark figure opens the drawers of her chest slowly, taking special care with her middle drawer, which she knows creaks when opened too fast – this implies that the figure is well acquainted with the furniture in her room, disturbingly so.
The figure tosses his head, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he successfully opens all of them. Bella now knows for sure who it is, having no doubt about the person's identity.
"Accio keys," whispers a hoarse voice, not even once turning to check if she's awake or sleeping. Bella considers it sloppy on his part.
Just as a package whizzes towards him from the lower drawer, she reaches out and turns on the bedroom lamp.
Sirius whirls around, the packet clutched tightly in his hand just as she speaks up.
"What are you doing?"
He gapes at her, as though he hadn't factored in her being awake, so she sits up on her bed, pulling at her cardigan which she'd never gotten around to removing.
"I asked you what you were doing here," she repeats, her voice a little cold.
"I was looking for my keys. My bike's keys."
"Oh," she says, because it hadn't struck her that she hadn't returned his keys to him – but to be fair, it had been him who'd returned the Yule present without even opening it. If he'd opened it, he'd have known.
"Uh, is it in this?" he asks, holding up the wrapped parcel, shaking it a little.
"Why don't you open it and find out?" she says, not because she's being rude, but because she wants him to open the present and see it – that's her way of apologising.
With fingers that seem to tremble, Sirius rips open the paper, before opening the wooden box inside slowly.
Bella holds her breath.
"Wow," he says softly, taking out the keychain she'd had specially made for him – the keychain to which his motorcycle's keys are attached.
"Turn it over," she says, and watches, biting her lip, as he turns over the silver engraving of a stag, wolf and a dog to read the script she'd had put there.
"Moony, Padfoot and Prongs forever," he mouths silently as he reads it, and when he looks up, there's this strange emotion glinting in his eyes and Bella feels – no, thinks – she's been forgiven.
"Would you like to come for a ride with me?" he asks in a voice that's quiet, in a voice that doesn't sound like his.
"Right now?"
He nods his head after a moment and Bella thinks she might cry out of relief.
OoOoO
§
End notes:
(1) The flower mentioned in this chapter really does exist. It's scientific name is strobilanthes kunthiana. It blooms once in twelve years and is found in certain parts of the world. Something for you to think on: Why couldn't have Lily kept this flower in a time pocket and watched it bloom once more, before she died?
(2) The BAA sounds like the bleat of a lamb, because, well, I think the witches and wizards of this thread are rather sheeplike, conforming to set of rigid rules all the time.
(3) You can think of Re-Vitalix as the Red Bull of the magical world.
Review Responses:
Rachel: Not much "drama", as you can see. Just a lot of (immature) silent treatment. And I don't think Bella actually feels sorry. She probably just thinks it could have been handled a little differently. Thank you for reviewing. :)
Isabella: I concede, the artsy ones look intense and super edgy, but only 19 pictures? Really? C'mon Harri, post a few more. ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)
AN:
I initially wasn't too satisfied with this chapter but better late than never, eh? It's been sitting on my laptop for ages now, with me just feeling mehh.
Here's a question for you guys! Do you want to read the bike ride scene? I've already started the thirteenth chapter, and right now, it's set a few days later. But if enough of you say you want it, I'll add it in. *looks at the computer screen intently*
Next update on October 10th, 2016 – it's a guarantee, for sure. There's a special reason for that date. ;)
Reviews are love.