I honestly can't believe I made it all the way to twenty! But, I've kept on. Reviews tend to keep my motivation up because I know people want to read my story. Anyway, here it is and don't forget to check out my one shot, Blackest of Souls: Alternate!
For a moment, Carina could almost believe that they were still at the wedding, as surrounded by people as they were. But, no, they were not.
"Tottenham Court Road," panted Hermione in answer to Ron's question. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change."
They did as she asked. They half walked, half ran up the wide dark street thronged with people and lined with closed shops, stars twinkling above them. Harry and Ron were still in their dress robes, looking odd and out of place here.
"Hermione, we haven't got anything to change into," Ron told her, as a girl giggled at the sight of him. Carina snorted at that.
"Why didn't I make sure I had the invisibility cloak with me?" said Harry, seeming furious with himself. "All last year I kept it on me and—"
"—it's okay," cut in Hermione. "I've got the cloak, and clothes for both of you. Well, all of us. Just try and act naturally until—this will do."
She led them down a side street and into a shadowy alleyway.
"When you say you've got the cloak and the clothes…" Harry frowned at her as she rummaged through her small handbag.
"She's got the cloak and clothes," Carina finished for him with certainty, for there was no way Hermione would not be prepared for something like this to happen. And, judging by the way she was up to her elbow in the bag, she definitely had packed everything they would need.
"Yes, they're all here," the bookworm confirmed, and she passed along some clothing and the cloak to the boys. Carina ignored their initial shock and exclamations, along with Hermione's brief explanation; when the brunette cursed, a thrill shot through her. It was rare that that happened. "Harry, you should get under the cloak. Ron, hurry up and change...Carina, do you want to as well?"
She had noticed how the raven haired girl tugged at her dress distastefully and eyed the bag.
"Yes." She accepted some jeans, her boots, and a dark sweater from Hermione before carelessly discarding the dress and pulling the jeans on. Before she could get on the sweater, she noticed the way everyone was staring at her scarred torso and sighed. "I'm not sure if I should curse you boys for staring or not."
"Er, sorry. We weren't actually looking," protested Ron quickly, ears turning red. "It's just, your scars…"
She narrowed her eyes meaningfully at him as she pulled on the sweater, and he went silent, still seeming embarrassed. She slid on her boots as well, and could hear Harry murmur, "Sorry," as well.
She simply nodded, and Hermione stuffed she and Ron's clothing into the bag.
"The others," Harry continued, though they could not see him. "Everyone at the wedding…"
"We can't worry about that now," whispered Hermione. "It's you they're after, and we'll just put everyone in danger going back there now."
As Ron voiced his agreement, sensing the other boy was about to argue, Carina thought back. She had told Luna to run and find her father because she wanted her to be safe, and because she was in a hurry and needed to find the others. She knew the blonde could handle herself as well and should be fine, especially with Ginny and the others there—especially Ginny, who was Luna's only best friend her own age—but could not help but worry. Had she done the right thing, leaving her like that?
She shook her hand and followed the others, moving up onto the main road yet again, where a group of drunk men were singing and weaving across the pavement.
"All right, darling?" the drunkest of them on the other pavement was yelling. "Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come have a pint!"
Carina, it seemed, was not interesting enough to them in her plain clothing, but Hermione in her dress was, and she could feel her blood boiling at his words.
"Let's sit down somewhere," the brunette said hastily as Ron opened his mouth. "In here!"
She drug him inside, and Carina considered her options. Go inside, or satisfy the beast inside howling for blood?
Cross the street, or enter the diner?
She made her decision.
She crossed the street.
The men whooped as she approached them, and as she met the eyes of the first, she narrowed her eyes at him and thought hard, Legilimens!
It appeared that she had pushed too hard, for he staggered back. But, he caught himself on the wall and she met his eyes again; she could feel his lust over Hermione, over her, could see his wife and children in his mind's eye.
He was a terrible man.
Carina felt a hand on her rear and turned to snarl at the man in question with such intensity that he stumbled back, and the others seemed to sense that something was amiss, for they all backed away as well.
"You," she spoke quietly to the first man, dangerously. "Go home." She kicked his leg out from under him and slammed him to the ground before straightening, taking the bottle on the barrel beside him and throwing it out into the street. "Before I come back. And trust me, you don't want me to come back." Her eyes glowed a bright yellow in the darkness, not that she had noticed, and then she was striding across the street and taking a seat next to Hermione, across from Ron and Harry.
"Where were you?" questioned Harry, as three cups were placed before them. She did not have one, and that suited her just fine.
"Nowhere," she told him flatly, fingers drumming against the countertop.
"Carina," spoke up Hermione, brows furrowed. "Your eyes are yellow."
Carina frowned. "What?"
"They're yellow." She pointed to the mirror next to them, and in it Carina saw that her eyes were indeed an eerie yellow. "Why?"
The raven haired girl did not answer, and instead focused intensely on her eyes. After a long few moments, the yellow faded away and her own normal gray orbs stared back at her.
Oh. I see now.
"I'm a Black, it's in my blood. Apparently I'm a metamorph, like Tonks." Carina sank back into her seat and watched as Ron spat out his coffee, remarking on how it was disgusting.
The two workmen who had entered made identical movements, and Harry and Carina mirrored them without conscious thought, almost simultaneously; all four of them drew their wands.
Ron, who had realized a few seconds too late what was happening, lunged across the table and pushed Hermione sideways onto her bench, directly on top of Carina, who by some miracle had managed to erect a shield just in time. The spell bounced off and shot just past the Death Eater, shattering the tiles behind him. The two girls scrambled away from each other as Harry yelled, "Stupefy!"
The large blonde Death Eater was hit in the face by the spell and slumped sideways, unconscious. The other fired a spell and bound Ron in thick, black ropes, and Harry shot off another stunning spell that rebounded and hit the waitress instead, who collapsed.
The Death Eater fired off an Expulso, and the force of the explosion had sent Harry flying, wand flying from his hand. In the end, it was Hermione who petrified the man and had now moved on to attempt to free Ron. However, her hand was too shaky to properly do so and she cut the boy.
"Oh, Ron," cried Hermione. "I'm sorry, my hand is shaking!"
"Diffindo," snapped Carina, and the ropes binding the redhead fell away. Ron stood, shaking his arms to regain the feeling in them as Harry retrieved his wand.
She was irritated with herself for not noticing sooner. She should have known they'd be followed, should have known they looked suspicious…
"Lock the door," she could hear Harry say, amidst Hermione's slight panic. "And Ron, turn out the lights."
The lock clicked, and Ron used the Deluminator to lunge the cafe into darkness.
"What are we going to do with them?" he whispered. "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."
Hermione shuddered and took a step back, while Harry shook his head. However, before he could speak, Carina interrupted in a quiet, cool voice, "I say we do it. It doesn't matter whether they know we were here or not so long as we get rid of the bodies, place them in the alley by the drunks across the street—they'd assume they were overpowered by them somehow. Or we could burn the bodies. There would be less Death Eaters to deal with later, and better off for it."
Wide brown eyes regarded her, and she ignored them.
"We don't need to kill anyone," argued Harry, meeting her gaze steadily. "We need to wipe their memories, which will throw them off the scent."
Carina rolled her eyes, not in the best of moods at the moment. "Fine, have it your way." She turned to one of the men and leveled her wand between his eyes, before suddenly turning to Hermione. "Get the other one." She concentrated back on the task at hand and shoved away her frustration, calming herself. "Obliviate."
Hermione did the same to the other, and Harry clapped them both on the back, before instructing that they should probably clean up.
A few minutes later, Carina found herself helping Hermione drag the waitress around the counter, out of sight of the windows.
"Hermione," she said suddenly, and the other girl turned to her, both still crouched together on the floor. "I went to the men across the street, scared the hell out of them. One...he wanted to do horrible things to us, you especially."
"Please tell me you didn't kill him," whispered Hermione, eyes roving over her face for any sign. She found none.
"No. Just knocked him around a bit, smashed his bottle and told him to go home to his wife and kids." The raven haired girl let out a breath. "Do I scare you?"
"Scare me?" They adjusted the waitress so that she leaned over the counter on a barstool. Hermione frowned at her friend. "No. But you do worry me sometimes."
"I see." Carina nodded slowly, and as they straightened, the brunette took her hand. "I don't want you to be afraid of me. But I don't take chances, and I will kill someone. I will hurt them."
"I know. And I admire you for doing what the rest of us won't, if only to protect us." Hermione squeezed her hand, and they walked out of the room to find Harry and Ron heaving the Death Eaters into a booth, facing each other.
"How do you think they found us?" questioned Hermione as they made their way over, and Carina noticed the way his eyes flickered briefly to their entwined fingers. "You can't still have the Trace on you, can you?"
"No," cut in Ron, shaking his head. "The Trace breaks when you're seventeen—it's wizarding law, you can't put it on an adult."
"As far as you know. What if they've found a way to put it on him anyway?"
"Look," started Harry. "If you can't use magic around me without Death Eaters showing up, maybe we should—"
"—no," interrupted Carina.
"Carina—"
"—no," she repeated, more firmly this time. "No splitting up. What we need to do is find a safe place to stay."
Harry sighed, seeming resigned at the determined looks of the other two. "Fine. But where?"
"Grimmauld Place."
Ron and Hermione gaped at her, but Harry did not seem at all surprised-he had probably been thinking the same.
"Carina," said Hermione lightly. "Don't be silly. Snape can get in there, remember?"
"Mr. Weasley said they set up jinxes for him." The younger girl glanced over at her. "Remus said he had a hand in as well. And if he is there, I'd like to think four at once could take him, no matter how terrible one of us—" Her eyes flickered to Ron, who protested with a slight scowl. "—is. We have nowhere else to go for now."
"I don't know…" Hermione seemed unsure.
"Hermione, trust me." Their eyes met, and the worried brown met calm gray.
The bookworm merely nodded once, and then looked away to gesture for the boys to grab her arm. They did, and Harry, Carina and Hermione unstunned the waitress and both Death Eaters, who were too sluggish to notice them as they disappeared with a crack.
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When they got there, the curse hit them immediately.
"Tongue tying curse," managed Carina after a long few moments of working her jaw and biting her tongue. She raised her wand to dispel it, and the others let out sighs of relief.
However, that was not all, for the minute she took a step forward, a dusty figure rose up from the carpet and flew toward them, hand outstretched; Carina flew backward in surprise and fell back into Harry, who quickly righted her.
"Severus Snape?" croaked the figure, which they could now see greatly resembled Dumbledore.
"We didn't kill you," said Harry, and at the word kill, it the figure faded from their sight. "Okay then. Do you reckon someone could be here?" He lowered his voice.
"I think...let me check," Hermione spoke up, her own wand out. "Homenum revelio."
Nothing happened, and Carina knew that was a good sign. Ron, however, did not seem to get it.
"It's alright," he told Hermione kindly. "Everybody makes mistakes."
"It did what I wanted it to do." She cast him a look, huffing. "There's no one here. The spell would have told us if there was anyone in the house."
"Oh."
"We should probably get some rest, shouldn't we?" piped up Harry, looking between the two. "We can figure out what to do in the morning."
"Fine by me," replied Carina carelessly, yawning. "Kreacher!" There was a pop, and the old house elf appeared in front of them, not looking very happy.
"Yes, mistress?" said Kreacher reluctantly, a scowl in place as he muttered, "Blood traitors and mudbloods brought into the house again...oh, mistress would not be happy, not at all…"
"Enough of that," she snapped, feeling defensive. "It's my house and I can do as I please-—grandmother can just stuff it. Never call anyone in this house a blood traitor or mudblood again, do you understand?" He narrowed his eyes at her, mouth furiously working silently, as though he were mouthing the words. She ignored it. "I called you here to tell you that we'll be staying here for awhile, and to not disturb us unless I call. Got that?" Again, he nodded. "Good. You can go now."
The elf popped away, and she let out an audible sigh of relief.
"Where will we be sleeping?" Hermione interrupted, unsure. "I'm not sure going upstairs is a good idea…the house is…"
"Creepy?" The raven haired girl nodded. "I know. I slept right across the hall from dad, though, so that made me alright. Now, though…"
"We could always sleep in the drawing room," suggested Ron suddenly. She shrugged, and merely gestured for him to lead the way since he was the one to speak. He pointed to the couch. "You or Harry or Hermione could sleep there, maybe...I could always take the floor..."
Carina glanced about. It had been awhile since she had been in here, but there was only one couch and a loveseat. "Harry, you can take the loveseat."
"I can sleep on the floor," he protested.
She rolled her eyes. "Hermione, take the couch. Ron, floor, if you really insist." She threw herself down on the loveseat and patted the place beside her. "Harry, get over here."
"Carina." Harry sighed, but nevertheless took the seat beside her. "What now?"
She noticed how Ron had snagged a pillow and blanket from the couch and lay on the floor, and how Hermione had already curled up on one end. "Guess we're sharing."
The other two seemed rather exhausted, for they were asleep within a matter of twenty minutes, leaving Harry and Carina sitting there, awake.
"I really could take the floor."
"Honestly," she admitted a bit roughly, now that no one could hear. "I think we could both do some good with sharing. I know you have nightmares too. And for me...this house will only make it worse." She hated admitting this to anyone—Luna and Hermione already knew—but she was sure to have nightmares if she slept alone. That was why she had not protested sleeping downstairs. She could have done well sleeping on the other end of the couch, but Ron was there, and he and Hermione looked too cozy for her to be around. "Not to mention your visions—those can't be pleasant." She cast her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "Do you get it?"
"Yeah," he murmured back, staring at his hands. "I get it." His eyes roved over her face for a moment. "About in the alley….I really am sorry. It's just, everytime I see your scars…"
"I know."
"Do you forgive me?"
Emerald eyes met gray. Harry Potter had been her best friend once, and many, many things had happened; there was a war going on, and it was not the time to hold grudges. Her pain had dulled some, and at the moment all she wanted to do was get all this over with, try to win over Hermione, and live a decent life after the war if she survived. Well, that was one option. If that didn't happen, she would just go off the grid somewhere and pop in for Luna every now and again.
Did she forgive him?
"Yes."
Yes, yes she did. And now, she supposed, she should try to work past their issues. It was what her father would have wanted, she knew. He'd have wanted his godson and his daughter to reconcile in some way, but he'd have also understood if they didn't.
Harry offered her the barest of smiles, seeming more at ease than before, not to mention a tad grateful. "Thank you."
"Just go to sleep." She rolled her eyes ever so slightly and turned onto her side, curling up in a ball.
He did the same, and when he spoke next, she could hear him whisper, "Goodnight, Carina."
She let out a breath, mumbling, "Goodnight, Harry."
She buried her head in a pillow, closed her eyes, and knew no more.