TW: Discussion of Rape and Sexual Assault, nothing graphic, but please take care of yourself!
December 4, 1977
I was dreaming about a campfire. A campfire after a quidditch game. The kind of game that exhausted my muscles and filled my soul. The air was cool and it was smoky and warm, and sweet…it was sweet. It was sweet and smoky, and warm and soft. Oh was the dream soft, could dreams have a texture? Or a taste? Because it tasted like fire fancies and chocolates and tender kisses. Tender kisses that left burning marks on your lips that no one could see and only you could feel. For days you can feel the burning kisses, you crave them, the kisses and burning looks. The dream was looking at me, watching me relax into its tender embrace. It left me on fire, but not the burning kind that races through you. No this was the ember-like fire that burned on for days – years – if you let it. And I let it burn, I kindled it - the ember like fire from the dream. The dream was running away. I ran after it as if dragging a weight. It was running past the horizon, far away from me as the weight dragged me backward into awake. I didn't want it to go. It was warm, and sweet, and smoky, and soft, and-
"Good morning, beautiful," the husky whisper of Sirius Black forced me to let the dream run away. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, his fingers gently running their way through my hair. Our legs were tangled together and our arms around one another, we were face to face. I looked at him through my eyelashes. Gods, he's handsome.
"Morning," I murmured sleepily. "What time is it?"
"No idea." He brushed a stray curl off my cheek and lifted my head up to place a soft kiss on my lips. This one didn't light a fire in me, it warmed me slowly starting at my core and leisurely wound its way through my body. It was perfect. Sirius pulled away with a wolf-like grin. "Good morning indeed, Red."
I blushed under his gaze and rolled my eyes at his words. "You woke me up."
"Sorry," He lied with a sly, sleepy grin.
"I was having a really good dream."
"Tell me about it," he requested while his fingers danced along my cheek gently caressing the freckles there with his feather-light touch. It did something to me. There was a flurry somewhere low in my belly that sent a wave of heat rushing through me. No more was an ember-like fire kindling there, no now it was an inferno brought on by nothing more than his fingertips.
"I think there was a fire."
"A fire?" His hands found their way to my waist and he dipped his head low to begin placing soft kisses along my neck.
"Mmm," I nodded and moved my head a little to grant him better access to my neck. "Like a campfire. And there was chocolate, and," his hands which were gently caressing my waist a moment ago, had found a new home under my shirt – well Sirius' shirt – and they were drawing a lovely picture along my back as he continued his menstruations on my neck. I was having trouble remembering now. "and it was quidditch."
"It was quidditch?" His low growl against my collar bone sent hot coursing lava through my body and a deep warmth to my core.
"I-" He nipped my collar bone with his teeth. "mmm" I moaned quietly.
"Tell me more," He whispered. His hands were on my stomach now, pushing me onto my back as he shifted his weight over me. He was careful not to crush me beneath him, but his heat over top of me made me crave more – more of his touch, his kiss, his body.
"You were there," I breathed. He caressed my stomach, sending waves of heat through me as he moved his hand upward.
"What was I doing?" He wasn't talking about the dream anymore and neither was I as I replied.
"You were touching me," I arched up into his hands as he placed more of the butterfly kisses on my neck. He traveled up to my ear with his lips and took the lobe into his mouth, grazing it gently with his teeth.
"Was it soft?" His hot breath hit that spot on my neck and sent a wave of want through me as I closed my eyes.
"No."
I could feel the grin on my neck as the kisses intensified, this time adding the delicious torture of his teeth every so often. I squirmed under his torment, but the hand on my stomach pushed me down and held me under him. His other hand was finding its way upward under the cotton shirt. His fingers danced under my breast, teasing its destination, and sending me into a frenzy.
"Mmm," He drew the noise out of me and I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd known it was coming. I felt his head jerk upward and the heat of his warm breath was on my face.
"Quiet, Red," He whispered. My eyes fluttered open to find his pupils large and nearly overtaking the stormy gray iris. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked almost animalistic as he devoured me with his eyes. We stared at each other for a moment, red-cheeked and breathing ragged. "You're so fucking beautiful."
I closed the distance between our lips and placed a bruising kiss on his mouth that said everything I couldn't put into words. He met my kiss with fervor - deepening it by asking for entrance into my mouth with his tongue. I opened it enthusiastically. Our tongues wrestled for dominance, teasing the others, and sending ourselves further into frenzy. The want pooled in my stomach, ensuring that I wouldn't be able to think straight, as I wrapped my leg around his hips bringing myself closer to him. The hand finally found its prize and his touch made me break away from his lips to stifle another moan. I bit my lips as I threw my head back, letting out a very quiet squeak as I did it. The wolfish grin was back on my neck, biting and kissing his way along the soft skin there, as his fingers found my nipple and rolled it firmly. It sent another wave of pleasure through my stomach and a gasp out of my mouth. I could feel him against my thigh, harder and bigger than I'd been expecting, wanting me just as much as I wanted him. His fingers squeezed me again, making me arch up into his hand as his lips found mine. My fingernails scratched at his back, and I enjoyed the sensation of him shivering under my touch like I'd been shaking under his.
BANG! The door burst open and we froze, his hand stilled, our faces a breath away from a kiss, and our bodies pressed as close as possible.
"He's still bloody sleeping," came the loud voice of James Potter. My eyes widened as we made eye contact. Sirius shook his head, telling me to stay quiet, and shifted up. I missed the sensation of his weight on me despite my fear of being caught.
"I didn't hear him come back last night," Peter said from the doorway.
"Must have been one hell of a date," Remus added. Great, the whole bloody gang is together.
"Oi! Padfoot!" James shouted. Sirius brought his finger to his lips, telling me to stay quiet, and I nodded to him. He pulled my shirt back into place, covering me up, and I couldn't help but feel disappointed at the interruption.
"Piss off!" He shouted in a faked groggy voice.
"He's alive!" Remus shouted from his bed, only three feet away. I gave Sirius a wide-eyed look as if to say Now what?
"You missed lunch," Peter's voice called from his bed by the door. I could hear someone rustling in their trunk and I prayed they were off to study, or heading to the common room, or going anywhere but here.
"Was planning on missing dinner too," Sirius flashed me a wink and I kicked him playfully with my leg.
"You promised you'd help me with my Care of Magical Creatures essay," Peter said. Sirius threw his head back in frustration and mouthed something that looked like Why me?
"Give me five minutes and I can meet you in the common room," Sirius sighed. I gave him another wide-eyed look.
"What about me?" I mouthed.
"I'm working on it," He mouthed back. He started to get up and carefully opened the curtains surrounding the bed so that he could slip out without me being seen. Sirius quickly got out of the bed, taking extra care to shut the curtains behind him and I breathed a sigh of relief when no one saw.
"So," James said conspiratorially, "how was the rest of your night?" Even though no one could see me I blushed. What do you care, Potter? I thought to myself.
"It was nice," Sirius replied coolly as he dug in his trunk. I heard the rustling of him getting dressed on the other side of the curtain.
"Nice?" James groaned loudly from the doorway. "You've gotta give us more than that."
"Sorry mate," I could hear the grin on Sirius' face as he spoke, "Some things you don't get to know."
"How far did you get?" Peter asked from his bed. My jaw dropped, how dare he. I heard the noise of Sirius digging for something and then the sound of it flying across the room. "Hey!" Peter shouted as it made contact with a body part that distinctively sounded like his head. Serves him right. "What was that for?"
"Don't talk about her like that," Sirius replied.
"Come on Pete," James called from the doorway. "Padfoot's fallen in puppy love with Ginny Cole." Another sound of ruffling, something soaring through the air, and missing its intended target. "Am I wrong?"
"Fuck off!" Sirius laughed at his friends. The loud rustling of the boys making their way over to the door and leaving the room could be heard over a chorus of laughter and teasing. The click of the door came and a brief moment of silence before Sirius pulled back the curtains and flashed me a cheeky smile. "Sorry about that."
"Holy shit," I breathed in relief, I'd made it without being caught.
"I don't suppose there's any chance we just pick up where we left off?"
"Not a chance," I laughed and playfully pushed him away as I stood up.
"Worth a shot."
"So how am I supposed to make it back without anyone noticing?" Sirius flashed me a mischievous look as he turned to walk over to the bed next to his. He fished through the trunk and came up with a silky silver cloak as he stood. I recognized it instantly. Harry's invisibility cloak.
"Now I'm going to let you in on the secret to every prank we've pulled off," Sirius said conspiratorially. "But you have to swear never to tell another living soul."
I rolled my eyes. "I swear."
"You're not taking this seriously, Cole."
"I am serious!"
"No," He grinned. "I'm Sirius." I threw my head back in exasperation at his joke.
"I walked right into that one."
"Happens to everyone," Sirius laughed. "This is James' invisibility cloak. It'll get you safely to your dorm without anyone noticing. It's the only one I've ever seen that's truly invisible."
"Wicked," I smiled. I'd never been able to use the cloak before. I'd heard all of the stories of narrow escapes, and secret missions to spy on the enemy, but I'd never been lucky enough to actually use the cloak.
Sirius walked over to where I was standing and pulled me into his embrace. I felt that warmth start to pool in my stomach again, maybe there was a chance of us picking up where we left off. "I'm sorry." His apology caught me off guard.
"What for?"
"I told you no funny business last night," He replied sheepishly. "I just got swept up in the morning." His cheeks were a little pink as he spoke and I could tell he was genuinely nervous that he'd crossed some kind of line with me. I laughed, oh how wrong you are.
"I'm not upset," I confessed. "I got a little swept away too, I think." I felt a light blush travel up my cheeks and I dipped my head low to avoid Sirius seeing it. His collar was all sorts of twisted, and I welcomed the activity that fixing it brought my hands.
"What are you doing for Christmas?" He asked as he fingered the t-shirt I was wearing – his t-shirt.
"I hadn't thought about it, stay here probably."
"Come home with me," His eyes twinkled. "Come to the Potter's. Lily'll be there for New Year, and Remus, and Pete, come home with me."
"That sounds nice." It did. I hadn't thought about my first Christmas ever away from my family. No sweater with a gold G on the front, no sweets from my brothers, no teasing. He must have seen the sad look cross my face because he lifted my chin between his fingers and gave me a knowing look.
"You shouldn't be alone." I found myself nodding yes before I'd really even decided to go. He grinned in triumph. "Perfect, I'll send them an owl today to let them know."
"You haven't even asked them?" He flashed me a wolfish grin in response.
"They'll say yes, Red, never could say no to me."
"Fine," I conceded. "Now help me get out of here before your bloody roommates come back."
"You're late," came the smooth drawl of Severus Snape as I finally rounded the corner in the library at 3:04 pm. I fell into the chair across from him, absolutely winded from my rush here.
"Sorry," I wheezed.
"Black kept you busy I presume?" He said nastily without looking up from the book he was reading.
"That's none of your business."
"I thought we were going to talk?" He taunted me. Of course, just like Snape to throw my words in my face and use them against me in the end.
"Fine," I sighed. "If you must know, I was with Sirius."
"I don't actually care," He flicked the page of his book to the next gracefully and without looking up at me.
"Right." I stared out the window next to me gathering the strength to continue this pointless meeting. Save the boy, save the man, I repeated in my head. The saying had become my mantra, it was the only thing that kept me from giving Severus Snape what he truly deserved – a swift kick in the pants. "I was surprised to see you yesterday."
"Everyone is allowed to go to Hogsmede, I don't know why my presence would be surprising." He drawled without looking up from the book. I was convinced he wasn't actually reading, that it was just a prop he used to irritate me. It was working.
"I just didn't think I'd see you there is all."
"Well, you weren't exactly invited to sit with us."
"No." I chewed my lip as I studied him. His crooked nose brushed the paper in front of him while his beady eyes went from end to end of the page he read. I wanted to ask the question that had been on my mind since our meeting yesterday, but it was a bad idea. A horrible idea. But one I needed to know the answer to. "Why were you meeting Lucius Malfoy?" Finally, he looked up from his book. With his head tilted, he studied me – sized me up – wondering silently what I really knew.
"That's none of your business."
"I thought we were going to talk."
Our echoed words hung in the air like icicles dangling from a branch. The words dripped with double meaning, melting the ice as the temperature rose. I waited for him to move, for the icicle to fall from the tree.
"He's an old friend," He said finally with the same cool and calculated tone I was so familiar with by this point.
"Then why was Regulus there?"
"The Blacks and the Malfoy's have been friends for centuries. Lucius is engaged to Narcissa Black."
"You were making plans for the bachelor party?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, daring him to tell the truth.
"Something like that," he sized me up again.
"When do you take it?" I asked him. It was time to shake the branch, let the ice fall, it was time for Snape to tell me the truth.
"Excuse me?"
"The mark. When do you take it?"
"I have no idea-"
"Cut the shit, Severus." My language caught him off guard, and for the first time, I truly saw the boy before me. His eyes gleamed with something I didn't recognize. He stared at me with a sneer, like he knew his words would sting.
"There's a meeting on Christmas eve, I've been invited."
"And you're going?" He nodded and I recognized what his black, usually, beady eyes were filled with. Pride.
"It's a great honor."
"They're murderers," I replied. "You know they're murderers right?"
"People die in a revolution." He spat at me.
"A revolution suggests the overthrowing of a tyrant. You won't be overthrowing anyone. You'll be killing people." I wanted to scream at him but he was kept safe by the rules of the library, so I forced my whispers to be laced with the anger I felt.
"We'll be restoring the rightful balance-"
"And how are you going to do it? By asking nicely?" I was standing now, leaning across the table to get my point across.
He stood too and towered over me. "Mud bloods and half breeds and the scum who consort with them will learn their place."
Slap!
I didn't realize I'd done it, but the stinging in my hand and the way Snape was holding his cheek made me believe I had. I saw him then. The man I knew. The man who tormented me. The man who allowed horrible things to happen to my school – to my friends. The man who murdered Albus Dumbledore. There he was. Clutching his red cheek, staring at me with eyes wide in shock and anger.
"Careful, Snape, those mudbloods, and half breeds, and the scum who consorts with them…that's my friends you're talking about." I pulled out my wand and pointed it at his chest as I spoke. Daring him to make a move.
"What are you going to do?" He taunted. "Curse me?"
"No. But I am going to tell you what he's like." I kept my wand pressed to his chest and leaned in closer so there was no chance he could miss what I told him. "He's evil incarnate."
"Shut-"
"He can read your mind. He knows your soul. He'll find his way into your bones and make a home for himself there. You'll beg him, plead with him, but he won't listen. You'll make a bargain, he'll cross you. You don't do what he says, and he'll punish you for it. You'll do his bidding, and it will never be enough. He trusts no one. If you ever let your guard down, he'll drive a knife through your heart." I spat the words at him, never giving him a chance to cut in. "That's who you've chosen. That's who you've tied yourself to."
"You don't know-"
"But I do." The words hung in the air, dangling around us. Severus squirmed under my glare but didn't move for fear of the curse that would surely come his way if he did. "I know more about your Dark Lord than you ever will."
He stared at me with wide eyes at the revelation and glanced down toward the hand that wasn't holding my wand securely, remembering the mark there. There was a gleam behind his beady eyes like he'd put another piece of the puzzle that is me together. I tightened my grip on my wand and pressed it into his chest further.
"There is another way."
"Join your precious Dumbledore?" He hissed.
"Yes." I gripped my wand tighter as I spoke. "Say the word, and we can save you. Say the word now, and you won't have to-"
"The choice is made."
"So unmake it, you prat!" I yelled. A chorus of shushing drowned out the sounds of my heart pounding and Severus squirming in the corner. How fitting, a real crisis going on in one corner while the mundane went on the other. A better poet would've had a metaphor at the ready, but I wasn't a poet. I was a fighter. "You don't have to do this."
"I know," He said with a glare. "I want to do this."
I let my wand fall to my side, it was useless. My mission had failed. I couldn't save him. He couldn't be saved. Maybe if I'd come back sooner, earlier, I could have saved him. He had already fallen into the dark side. To Voldemort's side. I turned my back on him and picked up my long-forgotten school bag from the chair beside me. The person I was twenty minutes ago was foreign to me now. The girl who came here to talk to Severus Snape was foolish. I couldn't save him. Not today. Maybe not ever. But I had to give myself hope to hold onto. As I stood with the bag on my shoulder, and my back toward the boy, an idea came to me. "You'll realize one day you've made a horrible mistake."
"What are going on about?"
"When you realize what you've done, you'll need a way out." The thought popped into my head in an instant.
"What?"
"Your way out," I whispered. "Dumbledore's Army."
"He has an army?"
"No," I laughed mirthlessly. "But when you're ready to find a way out, the way is through Dumbledore's Army."
"You're mad!" He spat.
"And you're making a mistake, but you won't let me stop you." I gave him a final look over my shoulder, taking in the angry and confused boy before me, turning on my heel and leaving him far behind me. Leaving him to his mistake. Leaving him to his downfall. But leaving him a way out.
December 8, 1977
The walk to the headmaster's office from the Gryffindor common room took approximately 8 minutes. Down three flights of stairs, through the east corridor, and then a right over to the south corridor. Just past the portrait of 4 women and their cocker spaniels the corridor started to veer to the right. By then it was only 38 more steps to the gargoyle statues guarding the entrance. I'd studied this walk for a month last year, and practiced it under cover of darkness. I knew exactly which areas of the corridor echoed the most, and which portraits would turn a blind eye to someone sneaking past them. I remembered the way my heart was pounding in my chest that night, the way I'd had to silence my breathing so as not to alert the painting of Salazar Slytherin's nephew to my presence that night. The way my palms were sweating when Neville pulled me into the east corridor broom cupboard when Filch nearly caught us. All of our preparation and planning wasn't enough to get the sword to Harry. No, in the end, Snape was there, he caught us, but in the most surprising turn of events he didn't hand us over to the Carrows for punishment. We were sent to Hagrid. For a walk through the forbidden forest which no longer held any horrors for me. It didn't scare any of us anymore. When you'd watched a first-year be tortured for sport, or taken a beating for being a blood traitor, or watched your brother be brutally attacked by a werewolf – suddenly the scary stories weren't so scary anymore.
"Lemon drop," I said to the gargoyle in front of me. He leaped to life and revealed a spiral staircase that would lead me up to the headmaster's office. 24 steps to the top. The large knocker on the door looked like a lion with a ring in its mouth, I might have wondered if the animal on the door changed to reflect the current headmaster's former house, but it was the same for Snape.
"Come in," the voice of Albus Dumbledore stopped me in my tracks before I could raise the knocker to make a sound. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and entered the office. Nothing had changed since my last time inside of it. Though now, the portraits on the wall hung straight and the occupants inside were all dozing comfortably in their chairs, no one had run away to see a battle raging below them. There were a few awards missing, and an empty wall where a bookshelf would one day sit, but for the most part, it was the same. The headmaster was sitting at his desk, a tray filled with cakes and tea in front of him. When he stood to greet me his purple robes glittered in the fading sunlight. "I'm glad you found your way, please sit."
"Sure," I smiled at him. A teacup was placed in front of me, and I took my time to fill it with milk and two sugars.
"Thank you for meeting with me today."
"Any time," I shrugged as I took a sip. Dumbledore studied me from behind his half-moon spectacles, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he sipped.
"I've heard good reports from your professors, you've been doing exceptional work."
"I'm alright," I fidgeted with the cup in my hands.
"And you've made friends, I've heard."
"Yeah, it's been – difficult. But I have a few." I took refuge from the awkwardness with a large sip from the cup.
"Any plans for Christmas?"
"The Potter's invited me –well Sirius invited me to the Potter's but, yeah I'll be there."
"That's very good." He smiled and continued to scrutinize me as we sat in silence for a brief moment.
I squirmed under his gaze. "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
"There is," his thoughtful smile faded to a sad one. "I trust you've been reading the Daily Prophet?" I nodded, thinking about yesterday's story. A muggle bus was blown up in London, killing everyone inside of it, including 2 witches who worked for the ministry. "I fear things are getting worse."
"This is only the beginning," I replied.
"I can sense that."
"Sir-" I began. I set my cup on the edge of his desk, wanting my hands free for this part. "We can fight back."
"We can?"
"We have to. You're the only person Voldemort fears, and you know the best wizards and witches of all time. If you take a stand, if you do something to fight them, it will work."
"Miss Cole-" He raised his hand to cut me off.
"I'm not divulging secrets of the future," I said quickly. "It's a fact, everyone knows he's afraid of you. Sir if we can-"
"Miss. Cole-"
"If we can band together, we can take a stand. The ministry is useless; they're not going to do anything to stop him. We have to. It has to be us, sir. I can-"
"MISS. COLE." His shout stopped me in my tracks and made me freeze. When had I stood up? "Please sit." I eased myself back into the chair and watched him closely. "As it so happens, I brought you here to talk about just that."
"Oh."
"I've been talking it over with my old friends, some colleagues, former students, and they've all agreed to a meeting here, tomorrow night."
"Sir, that's-" He held his hand up again to stop me. He looked like he was choosing his next words very carefully, chewing them over to taste them before they came out of his mouth.
"I would like you to be there," He said finally. My heart swelled with pride. Finally, I was a part of it. For real this time.
"Yes."
"This is not an invitation to fight, do you understand?"
"But sir-" He held his hand up to silence my outrage.
"Not until you've finished school. Your mother-"
"Don't bring my mother into this." My blood was boiling. How dare he bring her up, when he was the reason I wasn't with her.
"Your mother would wring my neck if I let you fight before you'd finished school."
"Was I not fighting when I agreed to take this mission for you? For the order? To kill-"
"GINEVRA!" He shouted. When had we both started shouting? I slouched back in my seat; acting every bit the child he clearly thought I was. The silence stood for a while. Both of us eyed each other warily. "I've not forgotten," He said after a while. "You made a great sacrifice coming here, and I have not forgotten that. It's the reason I'm inviting you to this meeting. But I cannot in good conscience send a student onto the battlefield. Not if I can avoid it."
The feeling of anger bubbling up in my chest continued as I took in his words. Of course Ginny, how could you have been so stupid? I was not a member of the Order. He'd sent a civilian to do a soldier's job. Never mind the fact that I'd been a part of this fight since I was 11. Radicalized by a diary. Enlisted standing watch at the maze. Battle-tested at the ministry. And made general when he died. "I've been on the battlefield since I was 11 years old." I spat "I've seen what he's capable of. I've been forced to do it for him. I've been preparing to fight him for as long as I can remember. You're underestimating him, and me." He sucked in a sharp breath at my words.
"I understand-"
"How could you possibly understand?" I shouted. "Have you lost everything at his hands? Have you had to sit idly by while everyone you love goes off to fight him? Have you been possessed by Lord Voldemort, professor? Do you wonder if that voice at the back of your head- the one who says the horrible things you had to learn to ignore- do you wonder if that's your voice, or his?" I'd shaken him. He looked at me like he'd never seen me before like I'd just turned on the lights and changed his entire view. "You recruited me in this office to fight this war. I was 11. You said 'while I may never know the horrors you have suffered, I offer you an ear and a sword to slay the daemons when you're ready.' Well, I'm ready Professor. Give me the bloody sword. Let me fight."
I was standing. Shaking with anger, but unyielding in my glare at him. My long-forgotten teacup grew cold on the corner of his desk as I waited for him to speak. He was quiet, withdrawn, and for the first time since I'd heard of the great Albus Dumbledore – I hated him.
"I stand by my decision. Tomorrow night, in this office, 8:00 sharp. Do not wear your school robes," He said after a while. "I have one more favor to ask of you."
"What?" I spat.
"I want you to tell everyone tomorrow what you've seen. Not who you are, or where you're from, but what he's capable of. They need convincing, and you're the best for the job."
My stomach twisted into a tight knot at his request. Of course, I was only here to be a story – a horror story – that would encourage the privileged ones, the ones yet to be affected by Voldemort's reign, to fight. He wanted to whore out my story, to trivialize it to these people. It was another part of the mission, a part he didn't tell me about when I'd left. Maybe there was more to his plan than just finding that book. Maybe he wasn't telling me the entire truth. The thought sent me into a free fall, as if the floor had dropped out beneath me I went plummeting. He wasn't telling me the whole truth. He was giving me bits and pieces so that I might do his bidding. He was using me. "Is that why I'm here?"
"What?"
"Is that why you sent me here? To be the rallying cry?"
"No, you were-"
"Don't lie to me." We stood in the silence for a moment as I glared at him. He looked tired. He looked old. He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. I truly felt an equal to him for a brief second as we took each other in.
When had I become a pawn in his war? Was it on the day of the battle? Or was it far earlier than that? Albus Dumbledore knew everything that happened inside of his castle. He could weed out a liar with a glance. He had to have known about the monster in the chamber. He had to have known that it was opened by one of his students. He had to have known it was me.
My stomach twisted into a tight knot at the realization. He had always known everything. Had he even orchestrated his own death? Was anything a coincidence? I took a step back, needing some distance.
"Miss. Cole-"
"You used me." My cheeks were wet with tears. I am a pawn. The words rang in my head and he made no move to contradict me.
"Ginevra-"
"I was a child."
"There are some things-"
"I WAS A CHILD!" I screamed at him. "You knew, and you could've stopped it."
"I don't know what-"
"Of course you don't," I laughed mirthlessly. "And I made it so easy. I was so desperate to help. They all laid their lives on the line every day and I just wanted to help. You exploited that."
"Please, Ginny."
"You took advantage of me. You knew I would do anything for my family. I would die for them and you-"
"I did what had to be done!" Finally, his words landed – cutting through me like a knife. The portraits on the walls were wide-eyed and staring at our conversation. I wondered whose side they were on: the game maker or his pawn. I couldn't bear to be under their scrutiny any longer.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I muttered, turning away and leaving him in that office.
"Miss. Cole-"
The doors slammed behind me, effectively silencing the headmaster and giving me what I wanted. Space.
My fingers were like ice, frozen to the end of my broomstick and I'd lost all feeling in them an hour ago, but the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair was keeping me sane. I soared around the pitch again to set myself up for the 20th attempt at the Petrov Feint. I soared toward the hoops, bobbing and weaving to avoid the imaginary bludger, making the invisible keeper believe I was headed for the left hoop, and at the last possible second whipping over to shoot the fictitious quaffle into the far right one. For the first time all night, I didn't catch the wind and performed the perfect Petrov Feint. As I flew back to the center of the pitch I couldn't even move myself to celebrate. I was too mad. The tears that had frozen on my cheeks an hour ago were still there as a reminder of what had brought me here. I was his pawn. He'd moved me across his chessboard, back in time, ready to sacrifice me for his greater goal. I was a cautious tale of the horrors that Voldemort could inflict. I was always meant to be here. Did the book even matter? Did any of it matter?
The tears started to fall again, and I turned back toward the hoops, setting up for the 21st attempt. The muscles in my thighs burned from gripping the broomstick, my fingers were aching from a bone-deep chill, and my ears were ringing because of the harsh winds. I hadn't really dressed for outside, but the cold kept me tethered. It kept me from spiraling. I could focus on the cold, and the broom or I could focus on everything Dumbledore had said. I chose quidditch.
I moved toward the goals again. This time trying to shake off an invisible chaser, a barrel roll into a feint to the right, they bought it – the idiot – and I caught my target again. I flew towards the rings this time aiming for the right one, as I cocked my hand back I jerked to the far left tricking the imaginary keeper and scoring my second goal. For the first time in two hours, I slowed down. I sat astride my broom, hovering, and caught my breath. And then I heard it. The sound of distant clapping coming from the Gryffindor stands. I turned to face it and saw him sitting in the distance. Sirius.
"I think you won!" He shouted. I stared at him from a distance, catching my breath and stealing myself for the inevitable questions he'd have. As I hovered, the wind whipped again and the stinging sensation it brought forced me to fly over to him for refuge, maybe a little too soon.
"How'd you find me?" I called as I neared the stands.
"When you didn't come back, I figured you were upset. This is the first place I looked." I jumped off my broom and onto the wooden platform near him. I walked over to him. He was bundled tightly in his cloak and hat as he sat studying me. "Want to talk about it?"
"I don't know," I replied as I kicked the bench in front of me. He opened his cloak to beckon me into the warmth, and even though I couldn't have smelled very good, I joined him. As I sat down his kind smile turned to one of worry.
"Christ, Ginny, you're lips are blue," he fussed. He took off his hat and put it on my head, making me realize just how cold my ears had been. They burned from the warmth of the hat, and as I stepped into the cloak I realized that he'd placed a warming charm on it. As the ice in my veins slowly started to melt, so did I. "Did something happen with Dumbledore?"
"There's a meeting tomorrow. He's bringing in people who are on the fence about fighting and he wants me to talk to them."
"I don't understand."
"He's using me," I said without looking at him. The tears pricked at the back of my eyes as I spoke, but I wasn't ready to let them fall yet. "He used me."
"Who is?"
"Dumbledore," I replied. "I was always a pawn. All of it was a part of his grand plan. All to be a story to scare people into fighting."
"I'm not following."
"He let it all happen. Everything. Well, maybe not everything – I don't know. It was all part of this plan. The more that happened to me the worse the story got. And now I have to stand up and convince these people to join him? Like it's all some cautionary tale. Well, it isn't, it's my fucking life. And now he wants to put it on display." I was yelling, gesturing wildly as I spoke. "Why do I have to relive it all for them? What does he want me to say? I was possessed by Voldemort? I was forced to do horrible things to innocent people? I fought his death eaters and nearly died? I watched my brother be attacked by Fenrir fucking Greyback and couldn't do fuck all about it? I was tortured, and beaten, and worse by his fucking-" the choking sob cut me off and my erratic breathing quieted me as I cried.
As I cried, the panic set in when I realized everything I'd just said. My heart was pounding wildly in my ears and I couldn't breathe anymore. It was like dying. I was dying. I couldn't breathe. My vision started to blur, and I lost sight of the pitch in front of me. The cloak that was so comforting a moment ago was stiflingly hot, and I pushed it off my shoulders – hoping it would help me catch my breath. The blur of darkness in front of me shifted to a face, a wonky one.
"It's okay Ginny, it's alright. Breathe with me." I felt two warm hands on my cheeks and followed his instructions. "Breath in through your nose, 1, 2, 3," I followed him and found that my lungs were capable of it. "Breathe out through your mouth, 1, 2, 3, that's my girl. Again." We did it for ages. Dozens of times maybe – I wasn't really sure. But eventually, my heartbeat slowed, the tears dried, and I could clearly see his face in front of me. We sat like that a while longer, just breathing and gazing into each other's eyes. His perfectly blue eyes. They were a sea of calm as he took me in; I wanted to swim in his eyes. The hands that were on my cheek found their way to my wrist as he squeezed it tightly, checking my heartbeat. "That's a bit better." He whispered. "Are you cold?" I could only shiver in response. He took his cloak off and wrapped it around my shoulders tightly, sealing in the warming charm. He continued to crouch in front of me, watching me carefully. I didn't trust myself to say anything else. I'd scared him. I'd ruined this little slice of happiness that I'd found here. He was going to walk away. Leave me here. Leave this sad, pathetic, person behind him. Gemma Davis was a much better choice. I kept waiting for him to stand up and leave me. Waited for him to tell me goodnight. He'd ask me to give his cloak and hat back. But he never moved. "Scared me for a minute there," he laughed humorlessly.
"It was a lie," I said quickly. It was the only thing I could think of to say. He raised an eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side. He looked like a dog for a second.
"Do you want me to believe that?" He asked. I chewed the inside of my lip as I thought over his response. It was an out. He was giving me a chance to take it all back, to pretend I hadn't made the mistake.
"If I say yes, will you?"
"If that's what you need," He smiled. "You can take it back, and I'll never ask again." I took in a deep shaky breath as I thought over his proposal - his gift of turning back time. It struck me that I'd had enough of playing with time.
"You said once, that you wanted to know all of my secrets," I said quietly. "This is one of them." He moved back to the bench next to me and we sat in silence for a while. We both stared out onto the pitch. A small accumulation of white snow dusted the once green grass, and only one trail of footprints leading up to the tower we were seated in marred it. The beauty of the pitch struck me for the first time. Maybe it was always beautiful, but today it was perfect. As we sat in the stands, the weight of my confessions between us, I thought about home. The rolling hills surrounding the Burrow hid the most perfect quidditch pitch, more beautiful than the one before me now. My heart ached thinking of the summer before my third year. Harry was home with us, Bill in for the weekend, and Charlie was there too. Everyone was home for the first time in ages, all of my brothers, and we played the perfect game. I remembered the way that Bill swore as I scored on him for the sixth time, Fred and George charmed the bludger to follow Charlie every time he crossed the half-pitch line with the quaffle, and the way Harry had seemed so incredibly happy and carefree for what might have been the last time. Maybe it was the last moment any of us felt a sense of peace before everything fell apart.
"What did you mean? You were possessed by – you-know-who?" Sirius asked quietly. His steely eyes were fixed on the stands opposite us.
"There was a diary, I don't really know how it works." I shrugged.
"I'm not following."
"When I was 11, I found a diary. I was sad and lonely and I poured my soul into the pages. Then one day it wrote back."
"It wrote back?"
"Tom wrote me, and he would show me things – wonderful things," I stared wistfully into the night remembering the stories he weaved for me. I remembered the way I hung on his every word, fancying this diary in a weird fucked up way. "I know it sounds crazy, but he convinced me to trust him. He fed off of me, and when I was weak enough he possessed me."
"You-know-who?"
"Yes. He- he made me do awful things. Hurt innocent people. He nearly killed me."
"But you beat him in the end?"
"Someone saved me." He nodded slowly, mulling over my words and processing them.
"And the other parts? The beatings and the torture-"
"They're all true."
"What's worse than that?" His voice was shaky, and barely a whisper as he asked me. My stomach did a flip as I opened my mouth to speak.
"Beatings and torture didn't break me," I replied. Still afraid to look at him, I watched the Hufflepuff banner blowing in the wind across the pitch. "They had to try something else." A tear cascaded down my cheek as I remembered it. Punishment for refusing to pledge my allegiance to Voldemort – for betraying my blood. I could draw a perfect picture from memory of the stone ceiling in Amycus Carrow's office as he'd held me down. It was a different type of torture. Physical – yes – but psychological too. It was Lavender Brown who found me lying in front of the Gryffindor Common room that night in a crumpled heap where he'd left me. The look of knowing on her face as she took me inside would never leave me. She pushed past Neville, and Seamus, taking me upstairs to the seventh-year girl's dorms. She made me rest, she held my hand as I cried, and she made me take the potion that would prevent any reminders of that night for years to come. She saved me. She taped my broken pieces back together. I was held together with spell-o-tape and her kindness.
Sirius let out a deep breath I didn't realize he was holding. The noise brought me back to the present.
"I'm sorry. If you don't want to be with me anymore, I understand. It's-"
"Merlin, Ginny," he groaned. "Why would you say that?"
"I'm- I'm- second hand. Tarnished goods. It's okay if you want-" He shut me up with a kiss. A warm, firm, kiss that served to tell me I was wrong.
"You're not second-hand, Ginny Cole," he said as we broke apart. Warmth spread in my stomach at his words. His hand rested gently on my cheek and his thumb swiped the tears that had frozen there away. "I feel like an idiot."
"Why?"
"Because nothing I say will make it better."
"No," I smiled sadly.
"What are you gonna do? About the meeting?"
I sighed deeply, looking back toward the Hufflepuff banner flapping in the wind. The colors were a blur of black and yellow, and it sounded like it was seconds from flying away. I took a deep breath, wishing I could fly away too. We both could. I'd set it free, and we could fly far, far away from this place. Fly away from this responsibility. Do it for Harry. The voice in my head whispered. Do it for your family. Do it for yourself. "I'm going to go. I'll say what he wants me to."
"I'm coming with you," he said firmly.
"Sirius you-"
"It wasn't a question," He cut me off. "You don't have to go in alone."
"But you're the Black family heir. They'll think you're-"
"A spy?" He asked, when I paused he shook his head. "Then I'll tell them my story. Tell them about the torture I suffered. The pain my family put me through. The things that you-know-who's biggest supporters are capable of. Done to their own son. Then maybe you won't have to talk."
"Professor Dumbledore won't like that."
"Fuck Dumbledore." We stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Sirius' words still echoing in the air. I nodded to him, accepting his proposal. Dumbledore be damned.
"I don't understand you," I said.
"What do you mean?"
"You've only known me for a minute," I laughed in disbelief, "a second of your life, we've known each other, and half of it we were fighting. Why would you do that?"
He reached into the warmth of the cloak and took a hold of my hands. He pulled me up onto my feet, and I felt the wind whip the cloak around my legs. His eyes were swimming with a million thoughts, a million things to say. I waited for my answer. With the wind whipping around us, and the skies opening up to release a torrent of snow, Sirius replied; "When we met in the hospital wing, you reminded me of me. You had that look. It was like you'd just lost everything. I had that look last year. I showed up at the Potter's beaten and bloodied, disowned, branded a black sheep. But I wasn't alone. I had them. You don't deserve to be alone."
"So you pity me?" I started to pull away but his hands gripped mine tighter.
"I'm in awe of you," He whispered. "You're everything, Ginny." He dipped his head low to kiss me.
When our lips met I put everything I felt into that kiss. My happiness, my hurt, my anger, and my joy. The piece of happiness I had found with him set a fire in me. It burned in me. I kindled the flame, feeding it with his kiss. It wouldn't be awful. We'd be in it together. Dumbledore be damned.