Blah blah blah, here is thirty-seven for your reading pleasure. Well, as well as this:
Whispers follow as she walks
she holds her head up high
No one listens when she talks
or looks her in the eye
They do not listen to her pleas
or when she breaks, her cries
They knock her down onto her knees
and say she speaks with lies
They drag her down a darkened hall
where cloaked demons glide down after
She huddles up against the wall
there will be no more laughter.
I've been in a poetry mood as of late and decided to write things involving the story. Feedback on the poems as well as the story would be very much appreciated, as well as reviewing on my story The Time Jumper. Anyway, here you go.
So, they had not gotten to sleep as they had planned, much to Ron's irritation and Carina's own exasperation, and had instead been coerced by Harry to disapparate to Hogsmeade under the Invisibility Cloak. She had, of course, immediately regretted the decision the minute they were underneath, for whilst she was squished into Harry, Hermione was pressed into the side of Ron, tucked securely under his arm. Swallowing the growl that was sure to rise, she diverted her attention instead to the shouts of the Death Eaters, who were attempting to call them out after failing to summon the Invisibility Cloak.
And thank Merlin for that.
The raven haired girl let out a low breath, realizing very suddenly that their feet were surely being seen, especially with she and Ron underneath with their longer limbs and taller statures. They would be caught soon, unless no one noticed that there were disembodied feet wandering about Hogsmeade.
"Bloody hell," she hissed, feeling the sudden chill enter the air and recognizing the nervous twisting of her stomach. A wave of dread hit her, and she shuddered, gritting her teeth as she raised her wand. "Expecto...ex…"
"Disgrace," came the whispers at once, though she knew that only she could hear them. "Stain on the family, you worthless little blood traitor! We could never love you, never—" The voices shifted back and forth from Bellatrix, to her mother, to her father, to Remus, to Luna, to Hermione, to her former foster parents, and back, and then suddenly they were speaking in unison, growing louder and louder still as green light flashed before her eyes. "You killed him, you killed them...monster, you're a monster…"
Blood dripping from her lips, trickling down her chin, and a man screamed over and over again while they watched; she snarled. She wanted him to suffer, wanted him to die...her teeth tore into him with renewed vigor, and when she stared down at his face, she did not see Scabior but instead Hermione Granger, brown eyes glassy, form covered in blood as she took in shallow, shuddering breaths.
"You," she choked out, and Carina only barely understood because most of it was garbled, for her throat was ripped apart so savagely that she was gargling her own blood the more she opened and closed her mouth to speak. Hermione's head lolled, and Carina panicked, cupping the other witch's cheeks with her own now blood stained hands, calling for her over and over, running her hands over matted brown hair. The blood smeared everywhere, and when those eyes finally focused on her, despite everything, she could just make out Hermione breathing to her, "You killed me."
Carina came to on a hard wooden floor, knelt over a bucket with her hands clutching either side as she suddenly leaned forward and vomited; she kept her head hanging and brushed away the hands that had attempted to gather her hair back.
All she could taste was blood, even through the vomit, and she realized vaguely that the blood was her own; she had bitten her lip very hard, it seemed. The bile rose to her throat again as she remembered what she had seen, and she was soon leaned over the bucket again, retching once more.
"And she's supposed to be the dark one?" came a dry remark, and she lifted her head to turn a glare onto the man before her, Aberforth Dumbledore.
Carina pulled herself to her feet and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, scowling as she pushed down the memory of a nightmare she had had recently, the one she had just seen, in fact. It had startled her that the person in her dreams, usually her father or mother or Remus, had shifted into Hermione. It struck her deeply.
"What happened back there?" accused Ron. "You just froze mid spell, and we had to bloody well drag you in here because you weren't moving!"
She did not answer and instead looked away. She could feel Hermione's concerned gaze on her, but she did not meet them and instead focused her attention on Dobby, who had latched himself onto her legs and was staring up at her with big eyes.
"Carina Black!" he cried. "Dobby is so happy to see you alive!" He hugged her legs tightly, and she forced a smile at him. He paused when he caught sight of the bucket and snapped his fingers; it disappeared, and when she finally opened her mouth to speak to him, her breath was clear and no longer smelt of vomit.
"Thank you," she muttered after a moment, and he pulled away to nod at her, ears flapping.
"Anything for the witch who saved Dobby's life!"
She had nearly forgotten that, but now that she remembered, her chest burned with the memory.
"You're the girl he's been prattling on about," said Aberforth, obviously putting two and two together.
"Yes, she is," Harry responded quickly, intervening so that they could get to where they needed to go. "Listen, we need your help—"
"Help?" The aged man stared at him, before turning away to busy himself at his counter. "I've risked my skin enough for you already, Potter. I sent that elf after you, and you're lucky I could pass my goat off for a stag, else you'd all be gone right now."
"I know, but—"
"No."
"Listen to me," it was obvious that Harry was frustrated by now. "Dumbledore gave me a mission, and I need to follow through."
Aberforth did not turn, but his voice lowered darkly. "Sending children to do his dirty work, is he? Well, whatever he wants you to do, don't. You'll all only get yourselves killed. I suggest you find a place to hide."
"Hide?" echoed Hermione in disbelief. "Sir, we need to—"
"Complete my brother's mission, I know." The wizard waved a hand, not pleased. "This is my last bit of advice for you kids—leave. Run."
Ron and Harry both tried to argue at once, but Aberforth was having none of it.
Quite frankly, neither was Carina, who was fed up with everything by this point and no longer wanted to sit around and wait. Her sickness gone, she stomped up to the man and grabbed him by the arm, jerking him around to face her.
Aberforth Dumbledore's eyes burned with power and more than a little anger, though he held it in check; the girl suppressed a wince at the things a powerful man like him could do to her. She was not naive enough to think she could beat him, ever, but she did not back down. "I'd watch it if I were you, Black. I saved your lives."
"And now you're back to hiding like a coward," she snapped back, the fire inside her reigniting once more. "You want us to run, but we won't. We're not like you. We want this war to end, and we want to stop them from hurting people. You're older, you're more experienced, and you're an adult—why aren't you out there fighting, huh? Self preservation?" She straightened. "Either you help us, or we run out there on our own and get ourselves killed. Our blood will be on your hands. Can you live with that?"
Aberforth said nothing, and her eyes strayed to the portrait of the serene blonde girl hanging on the wall. She turned her attention back to him, filled with a new determination; she knew what to say, now.
"Ariana would want you to."
"You know nothing!" he suddenly shouted furiously, before stumbling back against the counter and bracing himself as he murmured, "Nothing."
"Then explain." She took a step forward to match him.
He was silent for a long few moments, and Carina forced herself to have patience until he finally spoke again. "We got into a duel—my brother, Grindewald, and I. There were spells flying everywhere...Ariana came outside. She got in the way, and a spell hit her. She was killed. To this day, we still don't know who did it—it could have been me. I was supposed to protect her, and now…" His eyes trailed over to the portrait behind him.
"She's gone." The raven haired girl nodded once, understanding. But she did not have time to comfort a man for something that had happened so long ago. "You can't do anything about it. It could have been you. It could have been Grindewald, or Dumbledore. But whatever the case, if you hide alone here and don't fight, this will never end. You'll never get peace, things will only get worse, and more people, more innocents will die. Can you handle it?"
Aberforth did not speak to her, and instead seemed to make a decision as he turned toward the portrait. "You know what to do."
Ariana Dumbledore nodded and then disappeared. A few moments later, there were two distinct shapes at the very back off in the distance. Just before they could reach the front, the portrait swung aside to reveal the most surprising person.
Neville Longbottom.
The boy was tall, sturdily built, and covered in cuts and bruises and other various injuries; he definitely looked worse for wear, but nevertheless grinned when he saw them.
"I can't believe you're here," he exclaimed. "Here, come on—if we want to get to the castle we should head out now." He led them into the tunnel, and before the portrait swung closed he called back, "Oh, Abe, be prepared for a few more visitors that'll be needing to come in."
They could hear the old wizard grumbling to himself as they were shut in darkness.
Neville lit his wand, and Carina pulled her own but made no move to light it; she kept it gripped loosely in her hand for the sake of caution.
As the boy proceeded to explain how the Carrows ruled the school and tortured students for fun, she harshly bit her tongue to keep herself from swearing loudly. If this was how Neville looked and if the others looked worse, she could only imagine what Luna must look like.
They made their way to the end of the tunnel and stopped just long enough to open the door, and the minute Harry was seen, roars of, "POTTER!" came from everywhere as the boy climbed down after Neville. It was a bit of a drop, but Ron and Carina managed next; absently, as her eyes searched the room, she held a hand out to Hermione, who nevertheless took it and hopped down herself.
The door closed, and when Carina's eyes found Luna Lovegood, she immediately released Hermione's hand and scooped the blonde up in her arms, squeezing her tight.
As the younger girl returned the embrace, she murmured, "It seems we're not quite dead yet."
"Yet," agreed Carina, realizing that she had literally lifted Luna off her feet, and carefully sat her down. She noticed how Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all gathered closer, and how the eyes of everyone else were currently on them.
"What're you doing here?" called Seamus, craning his neck to look at them over the others. "You wouldn't be here without a reason—the school is full of Death Eaters!"
Harry seemed to steel himself before he began to explain (omitting the horcrux bit, of course), and Carina listened intently to the many different responses they garnered involving Ravenclaw's lost diadem. However, she became distracted when fingers laced through her own, and she knew immediately that they were not Hermione's.
She sniffed once, though it was unnecessary despite the smell of honeysuckle and cherries. Luna. Obviously.
"There's still more to be done," the blonde said softly, and Carina glanced over at her, feeling a brief wave of calm wash over her at the familiar, steady silver eyes that met her own. "But we'll fight. Everyone will."
"I know," the raven haired girl squeezed her hand and raked sharp eyes over the crowd. Many of the older years, including Luna, did indeed look like they had been put through quite a lot, but she knew the greater majority would participate in the battle that was sure to come. The only real problem would be getting the younger years to safety. A tug at her sleeve snapped her from her daze, and she found herself staring down at a small, sandy haired first year who was staring up at her, brown eyes alight.
"You're Carina Black," the boy said, and he looked more than a little excited, no matter how hard he seemed to be trying to hide it. He did not look nearly as worse for wear as the older years, though there was a cut across his cheek.
Carina furrowed her brows, unsure of what she should do, before she settled on nodding. "Yes."
"I'm Jakob Marks." He fidgeted at her silence and hastily released her sleeve when he realized he had not let go. However, when she quirked a brow at him, he took that as an invitation to continue. "Is it true you escaped Gringotts on a dragon?"
There were some calls from those who had overheard and were clearly disbelieving, but the room went abruptly silent as Carina Black dropped Luna's hand and crouched before the boy. "Yes."
"Whoa," he breathed. "That's wicked! How're you still alive?"
The raven haired girl inwardly sighed, but nevertheless replied because he was not being rude, simply curious, and there was no need to frighten him more than he already was or was sure to be shortly.
"It took a lot," she finally settled on telling him. "We almost didn't make it, but Hermione over there had the brilliant idea to ride the bloody thing out of the bank, and here we are."
"Awesome!" Jakob earnestly regarded her. "I've heard a lot about you, you know."
"Yeah?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I think you're brilliant."
Carina stared at him. "Have you gone round the bend?"
"No!" Jakob fervently shook his head. "I really do think you're brilliant. You do stuff no one else has got the guts to do, and you always win the fights you're in, and now you're here to fight and protect the school!"
Carina continued to stare. He. Is. Mad. Completely and utterly mad. But, she knew that she could not just crush what hope he had—it would be cruel.
"I'm no hero, kid," she took the boy by the shoulders, letting out a breath as she forced him to look at her. "This war...it's no guarantee. We might not win. I might not win this one."
"You are," piped up another voice firmly. It was another first year, a girl who briefly introduced herself as Delilah. "I believe in you. We all do."
"Yeah!" cried another first year boy, and a group of them stepped forward as well. "He might be Harry Potter and the Chosen One and all that rubbish, but you're Carina Black! If anybody can help end this war, it's you!"
"You'll keep us safe!" came another shout from the group; it was from a girl, this time. "We're not afraid!"
There was a chorus of agreement from the others, and Carina released Jakob's shoulders, gazing around at the assortment of first and second years, even a handful of third years, that had gathered around her. She knew she should be realistic, knew that she should tell them that they very well should be afraid and prepare for the worst, knew that she should tell them that she couldn't guarantee anything. She knew she should be a bit harsh with them, knock them into their senses, but at the moment all she could see was a bunch of children about to have their innocence taken away. Children that, if caught in battle, would be tortured and torn apart and killed, just like she herself was bound to be the minute she stepped foot out there.
These children still retained a semblance of naivety she had not had at that age, and unshakeable hope in her that she could not break, not yet.
If they saw me in battle, if they'd seen the things I've done...they'd definitely change their minds. They'd run away screaming—they should be running away screaming.
She opened her mouth, ready to tell them as much, but abruptly closed it again. She could not bring herself to do it.
I don't want you to be afraid, she realized. You should, but I don't want you to have to be. I've been through enough to last me a lifetime or more, and there's still more yet to come for me. I've paved my way. I might die today. But that doesn't matter, because I won't let the same thing happen to you, any of you.
Carina saw how they all watched her, shifting on their feet and waiting for an answer, and she gave them one.
"I won't let anything happen to you," she promised them, gripping Jakob's shoulder's for a brief moment again as she directed her eyes about to each one of them. "Not if I can help it."
She only noticed then how the room, the entire room, to be exact, had gone completely and utterly silent. The other students had heard every single word she'd said, every word they had said, and were all staring at her with wide eyes, some openly gaping.
She winced and glanced up at Luna, who had the hint of a smile on her lips as Carina slowly got to her feet.
~~~xxx~~~
The moment the young students began professing their belief in Carina, Hermione had completely abandoned listening to Harry and instead focused her attention on the scene before her, of her girlfriend knelt before a crowd of children. The way they professed her belief in her was sweet, and her flustered look rather endearing, but her promise to them had hit Hermione hard. She had not known Carina to be particularly patient with children, or to really acknowledge them at all, nor even if she liked them, but it appeared that she had changed more than the brunette realized.
She saw how Carina winced and stood, releasing Jacob Marks' shoulder, and cast her eyes about the room; their former fellow students were watching, completely and utterly astounded, and maybe just a bit moved.
Those gray eyes found hers, and Hermione saw that they were gleaming.
Carefully, Hermione pushed her way through the crowd and made to stand by the other girl, who turned to glance at her.
"That was something," remarked Hermione quietly, leaning closer so that Carina could hear. "Why did you do it?"
"I wasn't going to," the raven haired girl murmured back, and then met her gaze, unwavering. "I couldn't. They're already living in hell, not to mention there's a war going on outside. They don't need to be thrown into it like we were, facing bloody Dark Lords and Basilisks, Acromantula and Werewolves, three headed dogs and a hoard of dementors at once. You know."
Hermione did know. She knew better than anyone, and she wouldn't wish it on those children for the world, but…
"How do you plan on protecting them?"
"I don't know." Carina sighed and ran a hand through her hair; her eyes found the children, and they were all grinning and waving at her. In spite of herself, it seemed, her lips twitched. When she turned back, she was solemn again. "Send them through Aberforth's way, maybe? He could hide them…"
In spite of their situation and the things going on, Hermione felt a surge of pride for Carina, who was handling this the best she could and was genuinely worried over the safety of the younger years. Yet, she herself was worried for Carina, especially after her reaction to the dementors.
"Carina, we have to move!" hissed Harry, shaking her slightly. She nearly toppled, and when Hermione caught her she almost buckled under the dead weight. Wide, unseeing gray eyes stared up at her, and then Carina convulsed, entire body trembling as they fluttered shut.
"Help me!" Hermione whispered with a grunt, and Ron reached over to grab one of the girl's arms and loop it around his neck, though the position was awkward because he was already hunched over in order to fit under the cloak.
"What's wrong with her?" managed the redhead, as Aberforth ushered them inside. Harry whipped the cloak from them, and Ron and Hermione lowered Carina onto her back.
"That's the infamous Carina Black, eh?" commented Aberforth, looking rather unimpressed. "Doesn't seem so great to me."
"I don't know," Hermione ignored the old man as she answered Ron, leaning over to grab Carina's quivering hand, worried.
Aberforth suddenly snorted. "I do."
The brunette's head shot up immediately. "You do? Please, sir, what happened?"
"Dementors affect a person strongly depending how terrible the memory. Or memories. I'd wager she's done and seen a bunch of things that're finally catching up with her."
"Her childhood wasn't the best," offered Harry in defense. "It was horrific, actually. Worse than mine."
The old wizard nodded once. "That'd do it."
Carina's body suddenly seized, and her back arched; hazy gray eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright, choking. She swallowed hard, not quite seeming to realize what was happening—she was not really seeing them.
She's going to puke, realized Hermione, hastily shoving a bucket handed over by Aberforth in front of the other girl, who leaned forward onto her knees and just managed to hold her head over the bucket before she started vomiting.
"Hermione!" Carina shook her, and the brunette snapped out of her daze. Gray eyes roved over her face for a moment before steeling. "We have to get moving."
Glancing back, Hermione noticed how the students were reluctantly filing away in regard to some sort of announcement that had been made, and she could see Harry and Ron alongside the sea of them, waiting against the wall and craning their necks to look over the crowd. Quickly, the girls joined their companions.
"Alright, look," Harry said immediately, gesturing to the small trickle of students that had stayed behind. "I need you guys to stay here with them, wait for the Order to show up…"
"Harry—" tried Hermione.
"Someone needs to stay and fill them in. Look, I've got to go—"
"I'm coming, then," Carina interrupted, moving away from Hermione to take his side. Her eyes wandered to Ron. "Stay here, fill them in, and watch for trouble. Be ready. We'll meet up if…" She stopped for a moment, and Hermione felt dread pool in her stomach when the other teen did not go on.
"We'll meet up when we can," finished Harry, not bothering to tell Carina otherwise. He knew full well she'd come along anyway.
Reluctantly, Hermione nodded and took a step back with Ron as Harry and Carina slipped into the crowd. Just before they disappeared, the raven haired girl gave her a meaningful look, one that did nothing to help the brunette's unease. She knew what Carina had stopped herself from saying.
If we don't get killed.
She could not imagine a world without Carina Black, and Hermione sighed as she made her way to the radio with Ron.
She would just have to hope for the best.