Just a quick warning: There is some stronger language in this chapter. A few f-bombs are dropped. Just so no one is caught off guard; I figured I should give a little warning.
Ursula sat on the other side of Professor Dumbledore's desk. Her eyes were focused on the stone floor, intently watching a small spider try to figure out how to get up on the desk. A small trickle of blood was still slowly seeping down the left side of her face, running from a small but deep cut to the left of her eyebrow. Her elbows were resting on her knees and her right hand was tensely running up and down her upturned left forearm. Her clothing was singed and there was soot covering half her face. Restless, her foot decided to tap away at the ground as if it could transfer her frustration to the floor.
"Ursula," Dumbledore began gently. "I need to you explain what you saw. I would not ask this if it wasn't imperative we find the others before they repeat their actions."
His words feel on deaf ears.
He sighed and tried a different approach to get his student to talk for the first time since they had found her.
"If you don't feel like speaking at the moment, I am going to send for Madame Pomfrey to treat your injuries."
That warranted a response, though it wasn't one that he was expecting. She laughed sardonically, "You mean to treat the likes of me?" she asked bitterly.
"If by the "likes of you" you mean the type of person who selflessly put herself at risk for the safety and protection of three of her friends—"
"THAT IS UTTER CRAP AND YOU KNOW IT!" Ursula exploded. She jumped to her feet and with one accurately (and powerfully) placed swipe of the arm, an array of random knickknacks went crashing to the floor. "I AM NOT SELFLESS! I AM NOT THE GOOD PERSON! I AM THE ONE YOU SHOULD BE FIGHTING AGAINST!"
Infuriatingly calm, Dumbledore simply ambled over to his desk and sat down. He looked up at the student who was panting in exertion of her blow up.
"It is quite curious that would think such things considering your past," Dumbledore lightly commented as he looked with fascination at the broken objects on the floor.
"MY PAST?! MY BLOODY PAST?! MY PAST IS FULL OF DARK MAGIC AND CAUSING PAIN TO OTHER PEOPLE! I AM TIRED OF BEING THE ONE WHOSE FIRST INSITNCT IS TO CAUSE PAIN AND SUFFERING! I AM SICK THAT I KNOW HOW TO EFFECTIVELY USE THE UNFORGIVABLES! MY PAST DOESN'T EXHONERATE ME; IT JUST GIVES CONTEXT!" She screamed at her professor as she shoved an already precociously balanced pile of books.
The loud crash seemed to pull her back just a little bit to reality. Her shoulders swooped down and began to shake the tiniest bit with repressed emotion.
"I am tired of being the monster," she admitted softly.
As quickly as he could, Dumbledore moved from behind his desk to her side, "You are not the monster. You are just happen to bring along an unusual skill set."
"Unusual skill set?" she scoffed. "That is utter crap. This "skill set" is quite common within a group of people. They call themselves Death Eaters. You may have heard of them at some point. They're a bit of a rowdy bunch," she said bitterly.
The realization seemed to bring the anger right back, "They're a bunch that I'm related to!" she cried. "I AM ONE OF THEM! LOOK AT WHAT I DID TODAY! HOW CAN YOU TELL ME THAT I AM NOT A MONSTER?"
"Well, that all depends on what you did today," Dumbledore said lightly, as if he was commenting on the weather.
Ursula looked at him disbelievingly, her cheeks flushed in anger, "You are truly going senile in your old age? I transfigured Mulicber's intestines into iron. I ended up breaking his back. I blasted off half his arm! I stung him in the face so many times with the Stinging Hex that one of his eyes ended up coming out. But did I stop there? No BECAUSE I AM A MONSTER!"
"He was harming Miss MacDonald, Miss McGonagall, and your friend Peter, correct? You were nearly defending your loved ones."
"Protecting my loved ones would have been stunning him and petrifying him," she seethed. "It wasn't being so angry that I somehow conjured fucking Fiendfyre! I don't remember bloody doing that! All I remembered thinking was that the ones who ran needed to be punished because they hurt them too. I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to crawl into little pathetic balls and cry. I hoped that they would feel the pain that they had inflicted on Mary, Moira, and Peter. I WANTED TO TORTURE THEM. I WANTED THEM TO DIE! OKAY DUMBLEDORE?" she slammed her hand on a table causing a wooden sphere that resembled the globe to crash to the ground. "I WANTED TO KILL SOMEONE! MULTIPLE SOMEONES! PEOPLE MY AGE BECAUSE I WAS SO FUCKING ANGRY AT THEM! HOW DARE YOU SAY I WAS SIMPLY DEFENDING SOMEONE! I'M THE PERSON MY FRIENDS HATE! I'M THE PERSON THIS WAR IS BEING FOUGHT AGAINST! I WANTED PEOPLE TO SLOWLY BURN TO DEATH SO DON'T YOU EVEN BLOODY DARE TO THINK THAT I AM NOT THE BAD PERSON IN THIS SITUATION BECAUSE THAT IS ALL I HAVE EVER BEEN! I NEVER HAD A CHOICE! IT'S WHO I AM!"
As if it would somehow make it all better, Ursula in all her rage, grabbed a glass vase that held purple and green sand and threw it with a force of a Chaser. It shattered into thousands of pieces as the sand flew across the room. She kicked the leg of a table, breaking it, and causing it to topple over. Panting from the exertion, Ursula screamed something unintelligible before she collapsed to the ground sobbing. She buried her face in her knees as her shoulders shook with the ugly sobs that leave your throat burning and lungs feeling like they couldn't take in any air, causing her to hyperventilate.
"For the love of Salazar, stop your pathetic bawling," a sarcastic voice from the wall behind the Headmaster's desk spoke up. "You're a Black; you've certainly been acting like it today. Have some dignity."
Ursula raised her head. The fire roaring away in the fireplace was nothing compared to the expression on her face. Some of the kinder hearted former headmasters actually shrunk back in their portraits. Phineas Nigellus Black simply smirked that infuriating smirk that all three Black children had inherited.
"Better. My Ursula had quite a temper on her as well. She's her namesake, you know," He commented to a nearby portrait. "She also had a certain penchant for fiendfyre as well. Must be a family trait."
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Ursula screeched. She got up and stalked over towards the painting.
Phineas was less than impressed, "That's what I get from my bloodline? The insolence! It's that repulsive Gryffindor trait you and the bloodtraitor of a twin you have. It's abhorrent!"
Ursula was shaking with the restraint of not blowing her ancestor's portrait to bits. However, the man continued.
"I can't wait to make my weekend trip back home. I'm sure your mother will be thrilled to hear about your display. Perhaps once she learns of your tendencies, she will repair the damaged to the family tree and welcome you back; your beloved Potters certainly won't."
"Do. Not. Talk. About. The. Potters." Ursula said shortly.
"Phineas," Dumbledore tried to caution but the former headmaster just waved him off.
"This is a family matter Dumbledore. This is no concern of you. I happen to have an incredibly Slytherin great-great granddaughter who is masquerading as a little lion. Look at her, Dumbledore. Tell me that you never suspected such things happening. It is beyond mind over matter: her true colors are green and silver. Ursula has already come back to her natural state…how long until the twin back?" he asked mockingly.
"I haven't fallen anywhere," Ursula spat. "If there was a way to wash myself of the Black family name, I would do it in a heartbeat."
"It's called marriage, Dear," Dilys Derwent said kindly from her portrait. She smiled in spite of the tense situation.
Phineas snorted disbelievingly, "Changing her name won't change who she is in her blood."
"I don't give a damn about my blood!" Ursula shouted.
"Really?" Phineas said disbelievingly. "I find that incredibly hard to believe considering your actions today and just now. Children are all the same. All they see is what they want and change the rules to make it work for them. Disgraceful really."
"I hate you," Ursula snarled. "I hate you and this entire family that you spawned. I hate that I am the result of inbreeding. I hate that I was raised with lullabies about "mudbloods" dying and the "purebloods" coming out on top! I hate my psychotic cousin has murdered good people: people I knew! I loathe the fact my brother has a tattoo on his arm swearing him to the service of a goddamn psychopath who's hell-bent on murdering my friends simply because they don't have families that can be traced a long arse time back! I hate that this "purity" crap has torn apart my family!"
Phineas was as still as stone during her rant. When she stopped to breathe heavily, he simply looked down at her with the most condescending expression imaginable.
"It wasn't purity that tore your family apart; it was you and your twin that did it."
"Phineas, please," Dumbledore finally stepped back from the shadows.
Once again, he did not heed the warning and continued speaking, "Ursula and Sirius are two of the most abhorrent failures this family has regrettably produced. I suspected that Sirius would fall down the same path my own spawn did before he got disowned. But Walburga named the oldest twin after my beloved and strong wife. I had hope. And this abomination that befriends mudbloods and werewolves crushed any chance of returning to the only place she will ever be accepted once she was sorted into Gryffindor. It would have been difficult but Walburga and Orion could have persevered and forgiven her. But she has closed the only door that ever been open to her; the only door that needed to be opened."
"I was never a Black," Ursula spat. "I could never be like them."
Phineas simply raised an eyebrow (Ursula blanched at how uncannily Regulus looked like Phineas when he made the same expression) and said, "Today proves that is a blatant lie you tell yourself to validate your natural tendencies. Out of all my current great-great grandchildren…you perhaps are the most "Black" of them all."
This time when Dumbledore spoke, though he never raised his voice, the command was clear, "Phineas, that is enough."
Grumbling, Phineas retreated back into his portrait to sit in his green chair. Dumbledore turned his attention back towards his broken student.
"He is wrong you know," he said nonchalantly as if he was commenting on the weather. Ursula had once again shut down on him and was as still as stone. Unperturbed, he continued speaking. "The House nor name does not determine the moral integrity and value of any witch or wizard."
Ursula rolled her eyes, "If that is the case, pray tell, what makes me different than my family? What about my temperament, my insatiable thirst for revenge, the fact that I have nearly murdered ten people to date, or my penchant for dark magic that makes me different? What made me end up Gryffindor when all I do prove time and time again I am just like the Slytherin my family makes me out to be?" she spat bitterly at the headmaster.
He took no time to respond, "The love you have in your heart."
Ursula nearly cried she was so frustrated and angry. She flew from her seat and began pacing back and forth, as if that would calm her but instead it seemed to fuel her anger. After a swift kick to a leg of a table (one that had undoubtedly injured her toes) she rushed back to where Dumbledore was still calmly sitting.
"I knew that you were a bit off but are you out of your damn mind? My ability to love has nothing to do with what I am."
"Ah, that is where you are wrong. Your ability to love makes you different than your cousin Bellatrix, your parents, your youngest brother—"
"Don't. You. Dare. Bring Regulus into this," Ursula threatened (completely forgetting that she was speaking to possibly the most powerful wizard alive). "You think love makes a person better? Sure, it can. I mean, look at the Weasleys. Right now there is Hell on Earth and every time I visited the Burrow during the summer I could practically see the love Molly and Arthur had for each other and their children. I pray that one day I can love someone even half as much as they love each other. But I don't believe in love. Not truly."
Dumbledore shook his head, "Are you telling me that you do not love Mr. and Mrs. Potter as a child should love their parents? You do not hold any affection for Benjamin White? You don't love your brothers? You love Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Elyse O'Brian, your roommates, your teammates? Can you deny that you love them?"
"No. I do. But that doesn't make me some amazing person who is always in the right because I love. Love can make you the best person in the world or it can make you the vilest. I'm sure that Bellatrix loves Lord Voldemort in some twisted way. I know that Narcissa still loves both of her sisters even though Andie got disowned. I think that all purebloods love the idea of their superiority, or at least their concept of superiority based on their definition. You've said before in Order meetings that Lord Voldemort is incapable of compassion and love. The compassion part, yes, I agree with. But Lord Voldemort loves power and greed and fear. That's why I don't believe in any of the 'love makes you a good person' crap."
"Tell me, if you didn't happen to meet James Potter that first day six years ago, do you think that you would be the same person had he and his family not shown the love they had towards you?"
Ursula shrugged, "Honestly, I think I would be the same person. I hated the entire dogma my family tried to shove down my throat about hating muggleborns and halfbloods long before I got to Hogwarts. The Potters didn't change me; they offered me my escape."
"That is the key: Love opens doors we previously never knew were opened to us."
Ursula ran her hand down her face in frustration, "Yes, doors get opened but that doesn't mean that it is a morally good door. You can be a bad person and go through a good door and do good things."
Dumbledore shook his head, "The nature of love is good."
She was silent as she fiddled with a scorched string dangling from her destroyed jumper. Her eyes stared at the bookshelf, as if by looking at the vast compilation of knowledge would somehow come to her magically. Finally, she slowly started to shake her head.
"Professor, I would like to consider myself a well-educated person. I've studied a great deal of history. Unfortunately, my past has determined that I learn mostly the history of Dark Wizards and their beliefs. One of them stuck with me, oddly. Does the phrase "For the Common Good" sound familiar to you?"
For once, the usually unshakable professor was stunned. The color drained from what little skin wasn't covered by his hat or beard. "Why are you asking?"
Ursula shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "It was the moto of Gellert Grindlewald. If I am not mistaken, you two were quite chummy back in the day. He had good intentions: he loved other witches and wizards and felt like we were being repressed in society so he raised a revolution. It started out good. It was innocent. But then people started dying. Mrs. Potter's own sister and brother fell victim to his rebellion. Yet there were people out there who loved him. Isn't that right Professor? People who loved him and believed in him and trusted him. I think you understand that quite well. That's why I am shocked that you think that love always ends in good things. You loved Grindelwald even though he was evil and killed a lot of people. Love was made you follow down the same path he was going. Did you like the power, Professor? Did you like how the magic would surge through your veins as you decided someone's fate? You feel like a God in that situation. It was not good. Did the fact that you love him make all your actions okay? Did it make his okay? I assume at some point you changed your mind about that but it was never clear in any of the books. Was it before or after your sister was murdered, possibly by you, possibly by your secret love, that you realized that?"
"Leave. Now."
Ursula flinched at the frigidness in the Headmaster's tone. His normally jovial and twinkling eyes were as cold as the words she had just spoken. She swallowed loudly, her nerves getting the best of her as she realized that she just sprinted across the line. Without another word, Ursula stood and fled from the room.
With her heart pounding in rhythm with her feet hitting the stone floor, Ursula flew as quickly as possible from the office. As she ran, it hit her what she had just said to the man that Lord-Bloody-Voldemort was scared of. Oh sweet Merlin, she truly was a terrible person. It would be a miracle if she was even in the castle the next morning; either Dumbledore would simply expel her or if he was feeling particularly offended, he could get her tried by the Wizengamot for what she did. Either way she was done.
The realization crashed into her. She stumbled, falling against the wall. The jagged stone pressed uncomfortably against her collar bone but she made no move to change it. Tears rushed to her eyes as her lungs refused to function properly, leaving her gasping for breath.
Today wasn't real. It couldn't have been. Her mind refused to acknowledge the feeling of pure anger, the rush of power, the streak of hatred that colored her mind not even three hours previously. She had worked her entire life to be better than this. Yet here she was. The reality of her actions: nearly murdering a classmate, burning three others to the point that they were in the hospital wing being treated for their wounds, while the fate of the other four were unknown. And it was all her fault.
She was so lost in her own Hell that she didn't notice the footsteps quickly approaching. She did notice when she was grabbed roughly. Instinctually she reached for her wand and had a moment of panic when she couldn't find it (it had been confiscated temporarily) but her panic was quelled when a familiar smell of green apples registered. How she smelled it, with her nose as stuffed as it was, she would never know.
But she didn't care as she frantically grabbed at Elyse, pulling her as close as possible. She dug her fingers into her friend's back, desperately latching onto anything to keep her tethered to reality. It didn't matter that they had been fighting, it didn't matter that they hadn't truly spoken in weeks. Ursula nearly collapsed when she felt Elyse embrace her back and rock her back and forth in a comforting manner. Ursula's knees gave out as her desperate cries turned into hacking coughs and gags as she struggled to breath. Her throat burned terribly but she couldn't stop.
Elyse guided them slowly to the ground, all the while continuing to rock Ursula. She didn't even flinch at the painful grip Ursula had on her that would undoubtedly leave bruises. She didn't comment of the snot that running out of Ursula's nose and onto her jumper. She never complained about the mop of black hair that ended up in her mouth as Ursula painfully burrowed her face into her neck.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please, I didn't mean it! Please, I'm sorry! I didn't have a choice! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry! I didn't have a choice! I didn't mean it! Please, I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" Ursula repeated over and over through her desperate cries.
"Yeh need ter calm down, Muse," Elyse murmured, running her hand in soothing circles on Ursula's back.
Ursula tried. She honestly did. She wanted to stop but all she could manage to do was hyperventilate for three breathes before that morphed into dry heaves. She violently threw herself away from Elyse and landed on all fours as she gaged.
That did nothing to deter Elyse, she pulled Ursula right back and held her, "Please, fer me, breathe."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Ursula whimpered as she slowly brought herself back from the hysterics she had been in.
"Listen ter men," Elyse said gently yet firmly at the same time. "Yer Ursula Black. Yer me best friend and you don't fall ter pieces. Neva. Yer one o' teh strongest people I know. I know woot yeh did 'n I just want yeh ter know that yer not at fault. It's not yer fault."
Ursula shook her head, staring at the stone wall across from them, unable to look Elyse in the face, "I'm a bad person, Elyse. I'm not better than the Death Eaters."
Elyse turned quickly and grabbed Ursula's shoulders, forcing her to look her in the eyes, "Yeh listen and yeh listen good. Yer not yer family. Yer not a Death Eater. Yeh're better than they could eva hope ter be."
"You know what I did. Can you say that I'm a good person?"
She took a moment to respond, "Honestly? I don't know. Yeh've teh capacity ter do such evil 'n dark things. Sometimes yeh act on that. But I would neva call yeh evil. Yer not a good or bad person: yer a person. A person that I knew I was gonna meet me first day here. I'd visions o' things yeh do, things yeh've done, things yer gonna do 'n yeh know woot? I've neva regretted bein' yer friend. I've seen you do the most horrific things 'n teh next vision yer savin' someone else's life at teh risk o' yer own. I don't want ter tell yeh, but when yer gone, people are gonna remember yeh…fer teh good things. Yer gonna be missed, yeh neva lose yerself. Ben 'n teh rest o' us are there teh remind yeh sometimes."
"Ben…" Ursula said softly, as if she had never heard the name before. Then she began again in a stronger (yet still tearful) voice, "Ben, where was he? He was supposed to be there."
Elyse looked away, hesitant to respond but knew that Ursula deserved the truth, "He finished talkin' ter his dad a ten minutes after yeh left. He saw yeh 'b Peter walkin' ter Hogsmeade 'n decided ter sneak a quick practice in wit Prongs."
"He wasn't busy…and he wasn't there…" Ursula said emotionlessly. "Mary is in the hospital wing hanging onto life with a thread, Moira is a mess, Peter was knocked unconscious trying to stop Mulciber, and I nearly became a murder because HE WAS PRACTICING FUCKING QUIDDITCH?!"
Angry was too simple of a word to describe how she was feeling. Furious was too kind. Hurt was not even in the Quidditch Pitch. Murderous was a poor choice of words given the current situation. Emotionally compromised seemed the safest term to use to describe how Ursula felt at learning that knowledge.
Quickly, Elyse gathered Ursula into another embrace as her usually strong and willful friend dissolved into tears once more. Each cry was like a knife to Elyse's chest. Painful, traumatizing, heartbreaking, and completely unnecessary. At that moment, Elyse swore that if Ursula left anything left of Ben after she was done with him, she would make sure there was nothing left.
"Elyse, why aren't you with Remus? It's a full moon tonight." Ursula asked through her sobs.
That simple question was only one Ursula would ask, Elyse was sure. She was having an emotional and mental breakdown and yet she was still concerned about someone else. Elyse nearly burst into laughter but settled for a small, sad smile, "The boys can handle him without us fer one night. I'd a feeling that another one of me friends needed me more tonight. I'm sure he won't mind."
"I'm sorry you missed—"
"I'm not sorry." Elyse interrupted.
"Sorry."
"Ursula, if yeh apologize one more time I'm gonna turn yer hair purple."
Five minute past. Eventually, Ursula's tears stopped and her lungs remembered how to take a breath. All the adrenaline disappeared from her body and she sagged against Elyse.
"Elyse?"
"Hm?"
"I want to sleep."
"Okay, let's go."
Elyse grabbed Ursula's arm once they were both standing and placed it over her own shoulders and wrapped her own arm around Ursula's waist, holding her in a half hug. Slowly, they limped back to the Common Room. By the time they got to room, Ursula was nearly asleep on her feet. As quietly as she could, Elyse opened the door.
Lily sprang up to her feet in surprise, not expecting either girl to be in the dorm that night. She gasped when she took in Ursula's state of distress.
"My God, what happened?" Lily rushed over and looped Ursula's arm over her shoulders as the two shorter girls pulled their barely conscious and (badly) injured friend to her bed. Ursula fell down onto the pillows, muttering something unintelligible before falling asleep, completely exhausted.
Lily turned to Elyse, "What happened?" she demanded.
Elyse told her what she knew (and felt comfortable sharing) while they cleaned Ursula up. Elyse untied her shoes while Lily healed Ursula's burn marks on her arm. As Elyse tended to the swollen ankle, Lily quickly cleaned and bandaged the cut on Ursula's face. Once the story was over, Lily practically collapsed onto her own bed. She buried her head in her hands and took a few shuddering death breaths before she looked back up in complete composure.
"Lily, yeh alright?"
She nodded and laughed a bit hysterically, "I always thought that the magical world would be…magical you know? This beautiful place where there were unicorns and joy and happiness and we just happened to stumble into it when all hell was breaking lose. Now my best friends are fighting Death Eaters on what feels like a weekly basis, my former best friend currently is a Death Eater…I used to think that the hardest thing about the magical world was leaving my family behind… that the most dangerous thing was when you and your friends would go spend full moons with Remus. Now I know I was living in a little bubble."
"'N teh bubble's popped."
"It exploded," Lily jibed. "Just like what Ursula's going to do the next time she sees Ben."
Elyse's eyes darkened at the mention of her friend. "Don't even get me started."
Lily was careful how she worded her next question, "Elyse, do you think…Did you see something different if Ben was there?"
"I only see woot's actually gonna happen. When I saw woot I saw, I thought Ben was there, just out of "frame" 'o somethin'. I didn't fer a second think he'd not be there fer her."
"Do you think they'll be okay?" Lily asked, concerned.
Elyse nodded, "I think they get through…but I can't imagine how."
Lily sighed, "I guess we'll find out."
Whatever Elyse was about to say was interrupted as Ursula cried out in her sleep for Mary and Moira, begging the assailant they knew to be Mulciber to stop. She jerked in her sleep and painfully hit her head against one of the four posters around her bed. Elyse and Lily immediately jumped up and tried to her Ursula back into the middle of her bed. They didn't want to wake her; they didn't want her to remember.
Elyse smiled ruefully at Lily, "Fancy pullin' an all-nighter?"
Lily returned the sentiment, "Always."