Here's nineteen for everyone to read! By the way, you should check out my new story, Blackest of Souls: Alternate. It's a one-shot, but some of you may like it either way, and I love reviews!
Carina sat squished on the couch alongside Harry, Ron and Hermione, pressed into Hermione and the armrest. Minister Scrimgeour had called them all aside for Dumbledore's will, which was strange. Hermione and Ron had never been particularly close to Dumbledore—he and Ron had never had so much as a conversation, and Carina had attempted to avoid him after her trip to Azkaban. Harry had always been the closest to the man.
"Dumbledore died over a month ago," cut in Harry, overriding Ron's shocked exclamation. "Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione before Scrimgeour could answer. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us." Her voice trembled slightly. "You had no right to do that!"
"I had every right," said Scrimgeour dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will—"
"—that law was created to stop wizards from passing on Dark Artifacts, and the Ministry is supposed to have a powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to give us something cursed?"
"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?"
"No, I'm not!" she retorted. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"
Ron laughed and Carina snorted, feeling a surge of pride at her attitude. Scrimgeour's eyes flickered to them and away again when Harry began to speak, and then they were receiving their things.
Ron was given Dumbledore's Deluminator, Hermione a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and Harry the first snitch he had ever caught; he was also supposed to be given the sword of Gryffindor, but the minister had refused.
Nothing had happened when Harry touched the snitch as expected, and Carina leaned back in her seat, thoroughly enjoying the witty remarks Hermione had for Scrimgeour.
"And finally," continued Scrimgeour. "To Carina Rose Black, I offer my deepest apologies. I regret the day I let them take you to Azkaban. I can still hear your cries for help, begging for veratiserum...it has haunted me since. To you, I leave my trusty pocket knife, in case of such a time that you may need it." The man turned the pocket knife over in his hands, eyes never once leaving Carina's. "Why would he leave you this, do you think? What did he suppose you would use it for?"
"I like to cut off people's ears and eat them," the raven haired girl told him, completely straight faced. "He knew and was probably insuring that I would be able to get my next snack. Would you care to provide me with yours, Minister?"
Her tone had never once strayed from calm and polite, but Scrimgeour looked highly disturbed for a moment before he seemed to realize that she wasn't serious.
"Very funny, Miss Black. Now, if you would answer my questions—"
"—how am I supposed to know why he left it to me?" Carina reached out to swiftly pluck it from the man's hand, and he scowled. "I mean, really, it's a knife. Perhaps he thought I'd like it so that I can start a collection, or in case I'm ever trapped somewhere without a wand."
Scrimgeour did not like her very much, she could already tell.
He definitely didn't like Harry as well, judging by the argument that followed, and when the man stood with his wand out, it burned a hole in the boy's shirt.
"Minister," interrupted Carina, roughly shoving Ron—who had been on his feet with his wand drawn—back onto the couch. She forced her tone to stay even, for she did not like this man and if she made the wrong move, she could easily land herself in Azkaban again. "Pardon my rudeness, but I think it's time you left."
Scrimgeour stared at her rather intensely for a moment, seeming irritated, but nevertheless left. When Mr. and Mrs. Weasley burst in and began to ask questions, none of the teens answered, instead sat there in silence and gazed at the objects in their hands.
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By three o'clock the next afternoon, Carina found herself in a fancy silver dress and heels, sitting down and watching as the wedding progressed and Bill and Fleur said their vows. When they joined together as one and the rings came on, she had to admit that it was very impressive; she turned away, however, when they began kissing.
The music began, and she felt a tap to her shoulder.
It was Gabrielle Delacour, clad in a golden dress that certainly did her wonders. She and Ginny had been bridesmaids.
"You promised me a dance, oui?" the thirteen year old—who spoke very maturely—questioned.
"Yes," confirmed Carina, and she was unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips as she found herself being pulled onto the dance floor, filled with many other people. It was a fancier song, but for the moment she didn't mind. She peered back and caught Luna watching, and she made a gesture to the blonde that she would come see her after this dance. Her friend smiled and nodded understandingly in return.
"You look beautiful," Gabrielle grabbed Carina's right hand, and then they both positioned their others in their proper places. "Silver suits you."
"Thank you." The raven haired girl nodded and moved along to the music expertly alongside the Veela and quirked a grin. "You're stunning as always."
"Zank you." She cursed in french and spoke more carefully. "Thank you." The blue eyed teen seemed surprised. "You dance very well."
"That's so shocking?"
"I suppose not," Gabrielle shook her head. "But your friend 'ermione told me zat you cannot dance and zat I should be careful, in case you step on my feet."
She said that? Carina frowned. I thought she knew I could dance after fourth year, because I went to McGonagall for lessons. Not to mention the few dad gave me, along with lessons on pureblood etiquette that we both knew I'd never use but still needed to know.
"I guess she hasn't seen me dance in awhile." Carina twirled Gabrielle, and from the corner of her eye caught Hermione dancing with Victor Krum. Brown eyes met gray, and then the older witch hastily looked away.
"Per'aps."
"Why choose to talk to me, of all people, anyway?"
"I find you intriguing." The younger witch met her gaze steadily. "Zere are not many ozers I have met zat do not find themselves jealous of me or my sister. Zey tend to be...what is ze word? Envious. Oui, they are envious of what we are and what we have."
"I don't need anything," Carina tilted her head as they moved in an easy sync. "I'm rich, I've been told I'm fairly good looking, and while you may be a veela, it doesn't mean you're not a person. Besides, I know what it's like to be treated differently, first as the daughter of a 'murderer' and second as a falsely accused murderer myself."
"Oui, I understand." Gabrielle nodded. "Thank you for not treating me differently." She smiled, and it seemed to dazzle most of the men around them as the song ended.
"No problem." The raven haired girl smiled back and squeezed her hand once before letting go.
Both went their separate ways, and soon, Carina found herself standing beside Luna, who had a teasing grin on her face.
"Not a word," warned Carina, though she rolled her eyes fondly.
Luna laughed. "Who said I was going to say anything?"
Carina got a better look at her friend now, and noticed how the yellow of her dress made her stand out from everyone. She laughed as well. "You sure know how to make a statement."
"I like it." The blonde smoothed out her dress. "You know, Hermione is with Victor Krum right now—Ron doesn't look very happy. How do you feel?"
"Didn't say I didn't like it." Carina glanced back, and indeed, the boy did not look happy with the reunion of Hermione and Krum. Personally, she didn't like it either. "And as for those two, she's perfectly entitled to do what she wants with who she wants."
"In other words, you don't like it." Luna nudged her.
"No, no I don't." She did not deny it. "But I don't control Hermione Granger and I won't try to. I will also not throw a jealous fit, because I'm not Ron Weasley." She paused. "Where's your dad?"
"Oh, he's over there, talking with some friends of his." The man was not too far away, and though Carina doubted that the others were really friends, she did not say so, and instead grabbed a glass of champagne and took a sip. "Hermione is watching you, you know. She has been all night, but those glances were only fleeting."
The older girl choked and then straightened. "What?"
"You didn't notice?" Luna furrowed her brows. "I thought you saw her."
"Yeah, once! How many times has she looked?"
"Six, maybe seven times, not counting right now. Right now she keeps staring."
"And you're staring back?" Carina was exasperated. Of all the things that could have happened, it was just her luck it had to be this.
"Of course not." Luna tilted her head to the side, wide silvery eyes trained on her. She blinked. "I'd like to think I'm more subtle than that. She only caught me once, and I waved so she wouldn't get suspicious." She laughed at her friend. "You're very flustered."
In response, Carina groaned loudly and downed the entire glass of champagne in one go. Before she could open her mouth to finally speak, the entire tent seemed to fall silent as a patronus, a lynx, bounded inside and spoke.
It was Kingsley's voice that came out, eerie enough in the dead silence that it made Carina uneasy. "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
She sprung into action when she heard the telltale pops signifying apparation, and spun to face Luna, who had also drawn her wand.
"Listen to me," she said quickly, gripping the blonde's shoulders. "Find your dad and get out of here. Do you understand?" A Death Eater cast a spell at them, but it was Luna who deflected it and Carina shook her, though not roughly, and spoke more urgently, "Luna, do you understand me?"
"I understand." Luna pulled away from her, a determined set in her silvery eyes, normally dreamy tone sober. "Go."
Carina did not look back as she made her escape, slipping in and out of the panicked wedding guests—several of who were already disapparating and fleeing the scene—in search of Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Hermione!" she called, shoving past someone as she attempted to spot the brunette. "Harry!"
"Carina!" The girl felt someone slam into her, and found herself holding the hand of Harry Potter. His emerald eyes were wide, wand out as he searched; she transferred her wand to her left hand and gripped his tightly, so that they would not lose each other.
There was no way she was being left behind.
Death Eaters were everywhere, and Carina quickly pulled up a shield just in time to block an unknown curse from hitting them.
"We need to find them!" She was practically yelling to be heard over the chaos, and he nodded at her as they weaved through the crowd. She needed to find Hermione and she needed to find her now.
They called for the other two, and it only took a short time for them to find Hermione, out of breath and worried as she grabbed Carina's wrist. Ron came crashing through not even a moment later and latched onto Hermione's free hand, and Carina felt her turn on the spot; sight and sound were extinguished as darkness pressed upon her; all she could feel was Hermione's hand as they were squeezed through space and time, away from the Burrow, away from the descending Death Eaters, away, perhaps, from Voldemort himself….
"Where are we?" came Ron's voice.
Carina opened her eyes, and as they adjusted, she found that they were in the last place she'd have expected.