December 23rd, 1977
12:45 pm
Diagon Alley at Christmas time was one of my favorite places in the world. The whole lane was strung with fairy lights, and tinsel, and it was awash with the smell of roasting chestnuts, sugar cookies, and Christmas cheer. I hadn't seen it like this in years, despite a war hanging overhead, the shopping center was bustling with bodies. I separated from the boys with the promise of reuniting in half an hour for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Though I'd begun working on their Christmas gifts weeks ago, I wanted to get something more for Sirius, something that screamed 'I really like you and would like to continue snogging you thank you very much', but I wasn't sure what.
I found myself inside the Quality Quidditch Supplies, agonizing over what to do. I should get him something more personal, I thought to myself as I fingered the tin of Fleetwood's High Finish Broom Polish in front of me. But what? I set the tin back on the shelf and stepped away. There were other options – a pair of riding gloves maybe? But Sirius already had a top-of-the-line dragon hide pair and I couldn't afford anything that nice. A book on strategy might be nice – but it's not like Sirius actually cared about quidditch enough to read a book about it. There was team wear in one corner, but I knew he already owned every bit of it, and a stand filled with the newest copy of Quidditch Quarterly, but he already had this quarter's copy. I heaved a sigh, it was useless. I had no idea what to get him.
"Miss. Cole," a smooth voice broke me out of my musings and caused the hairs at the back of my neck to stand on end. I turned to find the aristocratic man of my childhood nightmares standing a breath away.
"Mr. Malfoy," I replied tightly.
"Please, call me Lucius," He smirked down at me. His blue eyes narrowed like a cat watching a mouse just before it pounced. He sized up his prey – me – with a glint in his eye that caused a sinking sensation in my gut as I recognized the glint of attraction, dangerous and heated. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, choosing to raise an eyebrow at him instead. "What a coincidence, finding you here."
"It's Diagon Alley the week before Christmas, I'm sure you could find the Minister of Magic if you looked hard enough." Lucius' confident smirk wavered a bit at my sarcasm, but he recovered quickly with a glint in his eye and a light musical laugh.
"I suppose," he reached for the tin of broom polish I'd been holding a minute before. He looked it over for a second before replying; "People have been talking about you, Ginevra. Can I call you Ginevra?"
"You've called me worse." I looked up at him innocently and saw his eyes flash dangerously at my implication.
"They're saying that you're the latest fling of one, Sirius Black."
"Rumor mill must be rather dry to be circulating Hogwarts gossip. And slow."
"So it's true?"
"Does it matter?"
"Very much so. I'm sure you know who his family is." He replaced the tin back on the shelf and dusted his hand off carefully before turning to look down at me.
"Sirius told me he doesn't have a family."
"But of course he does. Sirius has a birthright, and when he's ready to claim it he'll be welcomed back with open arms." His tone was condescending and trite. I crossed my arms as I looked up at him.
"Thought he lost all claim to that when he was disowned?" He turned to meet my glare with a calculating glance.
"All things can be reversed," He replied, "so long as certain criteria have been met."
"Criteria?"
"I have to confess, I've been curious about you since Regulus introduced us." The shift in subject caught me off guard, and the cool and calculating way he said it put me on edge. It was like he'd rehearsed this part like he was expecting something from me. I hoped I'd be able to deliver.
"Really?"
"Really," He said it like it was a dirty secret that he'd just let me in on. "I did a little research, I hope you don't mind."
My heart started pounding. "Oh?" I picked up a copy of Quidditch Quarterly and stared anxiously at the front page. "And what did you find?"
"Very little," he drawled. "There was virtually no coverage of your family's deaths, I only knew to look because of Severus." My heart was thundering now, and I felt like I couldn't quite breathe as I waited for him to continue. I had no excuse, no story at the ready for him. If Lucius Malfoy figured out my secret then Voldemort would too. I'd be a dead woman. My mission would be over. "But then I remembered that Cole is a French name." I nodded slowly. "So I looked at L'Enchante Du Quotidien and there it was. A once great house, nearly gone. And here I thought you were –" He paused to glance over to the couple next to us, and then turned back to me, "of less than pure stock." My eyes widened at him and I felt an angry redness spread onto my cheeks. "Which is why we were all so happy to hear you and Sirius had found each other."
"What do you want Lucius?"
"I want to invite you to join Sirius in accepting his birthright. The birthright you're both entitled to." He turned to face me and his voice dropped low so no one could hear us around the bustling store. There was something to be said about clandestine meetings in public places. Something about the crowd offered anonymity. The hustle, and bustle, around us, offered the perfect cover to talk about anything we wanted so long as neither of us drew too much attention. We could have casually discussed murder and no one would have been the wiser. I guess, in a way, we kind of were. "There's a meeting tomorrow night. The faithful and pure will be there to discuss what should be done about the –" he searched carefully for the right word before settling on it with a smile, "vermin problem our world is facing."
My eyes widened at the implication and any pretense about the conversation went away. I felt my jaw tighten and I struggled to keep my composure. Keep it together, play it cool. I bit my tongue so hard I could taste blood before speaking again. "Where?" I whispered under the loud noises of the shop. Lucius's cat-like smile sent a wave of nausea through me but I kept my composure. He leaned forward and I could feel his hot breath in my ear, could smell his expensive cologne, as he pressed a piece of parchment into my hand.
"Hold it as you apparate at 9:00, and it will take you where you need to go." He pulled away with a wicked smirk and raised an eyebrow at me. "The dress code is formal. It was a pleasure seeing you again Ginevra. Do save me a dance tomorrow." He nodded his head in a farewell as he turned to walk out the door.
Around me, the store sprung back to life. It was as if everything had frozen for a moment, and now time had sped up. I gripped the neatly folded parchment in my hand and continued staring at the door Lucius had so elegantly walked out of just a few moments ago. It was an invitation – an invitation to join Voldemort.
I rushed out of the store toward the Leaky Cauldron, all pretense of Christmas shopping out of the window. I needed to see Dumbledore.
December 23, 1977
3:15 pm
"I said no, Albus," The biting voice of Alastor Moody cut through the silent sitting room I'd been waiting in for an hour while they discussed my plan.
"It's not your decision to make, Alastor," the headmaster replied with considerably less venom.
"She's not trained, what if he looks into her mind? What then?" They stormed into the sitting room, Moody chasing after Dumbledore to get his point across.
"I'm an Occlumens," I interjected but found that neither of them was interested in what I had to say.
"We won't send her in unprepared."
"She's just a kid!"
"I'm not a kid!" I shouted but found that no one even bothered to turn and acknowledge my interruption.
"We don't have to send her in alone," Dumbledore started but was cut off by an exasperated sigh from the Auror.
"Not this again. He's a wild card, he's even more untrained than her, and how do we know we can trust him? Blood is thicker than water."
"I believe the full quote is The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, Alastor," Dumbledore's voice was calm and collected as he stood stoically near the window.
"I'm not playing your games tonight, Albus," Moody said gruffly as he reached toward the bar stand near the door. He poured himself a generous glass of fire whiskey and, after making eye contact with me, reached for another glass. He poured barely a finger of the whiskey into it and walked it toward me. I reached for it with a grimace and brought it to my lips. The flavor of the amber liquid settled in my mouth and I shuddered a little at the burn it left in its wake. "We could send in the twins."
"The twins were sighted in a raid last week," Dumbledore replied coolly.
"Longbottom could do it."
"Longbottom wasn't invited."
"Polyjuice."
"No," I shuddered at the memory of the last time Moody suggested polyjuice potion. The blood that coated George's ear, the news from Bill: Mad eye's dead. "No polyjuice."
"There's a curse on the parchment anyway – it wouldn't work if anyone else tried to use it," The headmaster replied with his back to us.
"You're not leaving me any choice, Albus."
"I want to go," I interjected and finally caught their attention. Dumbledore remained by the window but Moody moved closer. He searched my face for something he couldn't find.
"If they realize who you are – where you're from – they'll torture you until you talk. Do you understand that?" The auror asked me. The softness in his voice caught me off guard. I'd always associated him with gruff tones, angry responses, short clipped words, never with the tenderness that laced his voice now. I'd never seen him with sad, pleading eyes.
"It won't be the first time I've been tortured by a death eater," I replied calmly.
"It won't be a death eater this time, Cricket." His words washed over me and I realized the weight of the task before me - the height of the stakes. It wasn't Neville, Luna, and me vandalizing corridors, this was defying the dark lord to his face. I took another sip from the glass in my hand.
"I'm stronger than you think."
"That's what I don't like about this," Moody sighed as he turned back to Dumbledore. "It seems that you two have decided then, not sure why you bothered asking for my opinion."
"Your opinion has been invaluable," Dumbledore replied. He moved away from the window and back toward the office he'd just come from. "Vance will be here in a moment, I suggest we-"
"I'll be right there," Moody spat towards the other man. If Dumbledore took offense he never showed it as he left the room. We were alone now, and the weight of the argument hung in the air as Moody continued to drink from his glass.
I wanted to say something to alleviate his concerns – to remind him that I was capable, but nothing seemed quite like the right thing to say. So I let the silence hang, wetting my lips with the fire whiskey and waiting for him to say something. He stood by the fireplace, the amber glow from the flames danced across the half of his face I could see and I realized just how young he was now. He must have been around 35, but the scars that danced across his face and neck made him look closer to 50. In all the years I'd known him he'd taken Dumbledore's word as law and never wavered from his faith in him, but tonight changed all of that.
"You're a Prewitt?" he finally asked, cutting through the musings in my head and bringing me back into the moment.
I squirmed under the question. "Sort of." It was the wrong thing to say. His eyes closed and he drank the remainder of his glass in one long pull.
"A Weasley?" he croaked.
I stayed silent.
He continued to stare into the flames, the ghost of a memory dancing in his eyes. "I was there yesterday, putting up new wards for them." My heart jumped at the revelation and I couldn't fight the joy that bubbled up in my chest.
"You saw them?" He nodded.
"Molly's pregnant-"
"With the twins." I smiled.
"Says it's the last one."
"It's not." I laughed.
"They asked me to put the wards up to protect their family." the gruffness was back in his voice but I knew it wasn't directed at me. "Arthur trusts me to protect his family."
"He's always trusted you," I whispered, the joy from before replaced by a feeling of guilt. Guilt at asking him to keep my secret and guilt at asking him to send me into danger.
"He'd kill me for this."
"It's my mum you should worry about," I laughed shakily. He let out a huff of his own in agreement.
"We need someone to go to this meeting," He said but he wasn't talking to me. "We need someone to go. It has to be done-"
"So let me go."
He brought a hand up to his face and squared his shoulders. The decision had been made – whether he liked it or not – and he turned away from the fire. "Albus's judgment is clouded, he doesn't see you for what you are."
"And what does he see me as?"
"A soldier in his war."
"And you?" He turned his head to me in question. "What do you see me as?"
He gave me a long lingering look before moving toward the doorway. As he neared it, I thought he wasn't going to answer, but he stopped just before turning the corner. With his fingers gripping the doorframe he heaved a sigh and replied: "Someone who never had a chance to say no."
December 23, 1977
7:45 pm
My leg bobbed anxiously as I stared at the old oak of the office door before me, the door that hadn't moved in over an hour, the door which separated me from James and Sirius. I counted the minutes as they ticked past, 64 of them to be exact, and I waited. The bobbing of my knee kept time with the second hand of the clock, the sound of my shoelace harmonizing with the ticking.
I wondered how they were telling them. I wondered how they were taking it. From the lack of muffled shouting, I supposed that things were going well – that, or someone had been smart enough to throw up a silencing charm. Knowing the boys in the room, I suspected the latter.
As the clock ticked closer to the 73-minute mark I felt the warmth of a teacup being pressed into my trembling hand. I tore my gaze away from the clock and the solid oak door and into the waiting blue eyes of Euphemia Potter. She gave me an eyebrow that reminded me of my mother, and I took it as a cue to sip from the cup. The familiar burn of the tea down my throat calmed my anxiety – or maybe it was the burn from the nip of fire whiskey she'd slipped in it. I took another sip to be sure. Definitely the fire whiskey. Euphemia sat down on the step next to me, a gentle brush of our shoulders let me know that she was here for support and nothing more. The warmth of her presence did little to quiet my mind as we waited.
76 minutes turned into 80, and the cup started to cool in my palms. I wondered if Sirius was angry if James was restraining him. I hoped that Moody had explained it well. I wished I was with them to answer their questions, to bear the brunt of their rage.
"I have an old gown you can borrow," Her quiet voice broke through the chorus of anxiety in my mind.
"What?"
"For the meeting. You'll need to look the part if you're-" her voice broke and she didn't finish the sentence. She cleared her throat. "I'll help you get ready."
I tore my gaze away from the door and found her staring misty-eyed into the empty foyer before us. "You don't have to." Her blue eyes turned to mine and she let out a clicking sound with her tongue.
"I have two sons who'd rather roll around in the mud than put on their dress robes, indulge me, Ginny," she smiled weakly.
"Will you curl my hair?" Somehow her smile grew even sadder and it looked like the tears might actually fall this time.
"Anything you'd like."
I turned back towards the door and continued to stare, this time with a quieter mind. She continued to sit next to me, her fingers tapping on the teacup in her hand as we waited. It was at the 87-minute mark that the doorknob turned and James walked out looking shell-shocked. He came to a stop in the center of the foyer, fixing me with a look that had no real name. It was part fear, part confusion, and part hurt. He split me in half with his brown eyes as he tried to answer all of his questions with a glance.
"Alright?" I asked calmly, waiting for him to say something.
"Yeah," He whispered as he studied me curiously. "I don't understand."
"What don't you understand, James?"
"You said your family was branded as blood traitors and they hunted you down– and yet-"
"What did they tell you?"
"That they wouldn't recognize you. That none of them know who you are."
"They were telling the truth." His brows knit together in confusion, looking like he was carefully crafting his conclusion. It seemed that the numbers weren't adding up as he calculated and he looked back at me with more questions.
"So you lied?"
"Not about that."
"You said they were killed."
"I said they were gone." He mulled over my words, still not understanding the answers I had laid out before him.
"Who are you?" he whispered.
"Someone you can trust," I whispered to him. I felt Euphemia reach for my arm and give it a reassuring squeeze as James continued to stare. "I swear to you, James, I would never betray you. I would never willingly harm anyone in this house. Any of our friends. There are some things I just can't tell anyone – not yet."
He nodded slowly, the wrinkles of his brow slowly relaxing as he digested my oath. "Would you take an unbreakable vow?" he asked in a gravelly voice.
"Without question." Neither of us moved for a moment. Only eyeing the other carefully, waiting for one of us to initiate the vow. I meant it – I would take the unbreakable vow if it meant James would trust me – but he didn't move, didn't reach for my arm, and kneel. He let out a long sigh instead, running a tired hand across his face as he did it.
"Dad wants to see you," He replied in a low voice. I stood up nervously, handing off the cup of tea in my hands to Euphemia. As I passed by him, James reached out for me, gripping my wrist gently in his fingers. "Moody's in there…I just," his dark eyes searched my face for something. When he didn't find what he was looking for he let out a low sigh. "keep Sirius out of trouble?" it wasn't the joke that I wanted it to be, and it wasn't followed by his typical glee-filled smile. It was a genuine request from a boy who wasn't able to have his friends back for the first time since they'd met. I nodded slowly and he accepted it with a deep inhale.
I moved into the office that had barred me from entry for the better part of an hour and a half. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as I entered. Moody caught my eye first, the grimace he offered let me know that the evening had not been going smoothly. The second thing that tipped me off was the deeply tired and haggard appearance of Fleamont Potter who sat with his head in his hands behind the large desk in the center of the room. The last – and frankly the most obvious of them all – was Sirius, who stood in front of the desk, the chair behind him turned on its side, with waves of anger rolling off of him. I stepped into the room cautiously, not sure what exactly I'd walked in on, and shut the door behind me.
"Get out," Sirius said through clenched teeth.
"Sirius-" Fleamont began.
"I'll do it, but she's not coming."
"Don't be stupid, Black," Moody huffed from his spot in the corner.
"She stays, that's the deal."
"This is the plan: take it or leave it." Moody took a threatening step toward Sirius who refused to back down.
"Plans change," Sirius replied with more venom than I'd ever heard from him.
"This isn't a negotiation, Sirius," Fleamont lifted his head up and glared at the boy before him.
"You're going to send her in there? Let her get eaten alive, Monty? All for the greater good?"
"We don't-"
"What? You don't want a repeat of last Christmas? Well if you send her in there it'll be even worse." I didn't know what had happened last Christmas but the look of horror on Fleamont Potter's face showed me that it was bad.
"What happened last Christmas?" I asked. Sirius turned his head to see me, and his eyes were filled with venom.
"I refused the mark," Sirius spat at me. My eyes widened in shock, he'd never spoken to me with such venom. "My own mother used the Cruciatus on me, and that's after she let my psychopath of a cousin have a turn."
"Sirius I'm-"
"A liar?" He silenced me.
"She did what had to be done," Moody interrupted. "Followed her mission to the letter."
"Proven herself then?" Sirius turned his glare on the Auror.
"Sirius please-" I reached for his arm but he shrugged out of my grip.
"The good little soldier? Playing victim?" He took a step toward Moody and Fleamont. My breath caught in my throat at the implication of his words. He thought I was lying. He thought everything I'd told him in confidence was just a part of a game. A sharp pain shot through my chest. Moody's eyes lit with a new fury and his wand was in his hand and pointed at Sirius' chest faster than I could blink.
"You ignorant child." Moody's voice was low and quiet, and yet with barely a whisper, he silenced the room. We all watched him closely, waiting for him to make a move. "She sacrificed everything for us. Don't you dare question her in my presence." The silence hung in the air for a long moment as we all waited with bated breath for Sirius to make a move. It was Fleamont who broke the tension by reaching for Moody's arm and lowering slowly.
"You have the chance to get vital information for us. You could save lives," Fleamont begged Sirius, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. The war on his face was a dead giveaway – he didn't want us to go but he knew someone had to.
"What if they kill her?"
"Then you get the hell out, and get the information to Moody," I replied. He turned his eyes back to me and they flashed with sadness. The blue depths swam with questions unanswered and fears unspoken. I saw the confusion of the revelation play out in real-time in front of me. On the one hand, he didn't understand who I was or why I was here, but on the other, he wanted desperately to protect me from the people he'd fought so desperately to get away from.
"I won't leave you."
"You will."
"Are you two are finished?" Moody grunted through the silence. We turned our glares on him. "Take it or leave it, Black?"
"Take it," He spat.
"Then take a seat," Moody removed a file from his overcoat and placed it on the desk. "Both of you – we have a lot to discuss."
December 23, 1977
9:37 pm
James was waiting for us on the stairs, a cold cup of tea clenched in his white-knuckled fists, and his hair standing up on end as if he'd run his hands through it a few dozen times. Knowing him, he likely had. When he saw us exiting the office, he made no move to stand. Sirius led the way and found a spot on the stair next to him. They sat shoulder to shoulder, neither looking at the other while I stood at the foot of the stairs.
"You're going then?" James asked softly. Sirius fixed me with a heavy stare, his anger still palpable but now subdued after the onslaught of planning we'd just been through.
"Yes," I replied weakly. Sirius nodded slowly, eyes drifting beyond my head and back toward the office door.
"I should be going with you."
"No," Sirius replied with a finality that left no room for protest. Maybe it was the tone he'd wanted to use with me in the office. I wouldn't pretend to know.
"Is there a plan?" James asked slowly.
"Sirius isn't happy with it," I shrugged thinking about the row he'd started with Moody an hour ago as we went over the finer details.
"I'm not using you as bait for Lucius fucking Malfoy." His face contorted with rage.
"Why? It'll work. He's got a weird-"
"Thing for you?" Sirius spat, and then let out a humorless laugh. "Of course he does. Lucius has always had a penchant for anything that was mine." The white-hot heat of anger bubbled up in my throat at his implication.
"I'm not a possession Black." I seethed through clenched teeth.
"And yet you're fine being used as bait, Cole," he shot back.
"Enough!" James interjected. We both turned to face him as he brought a hand to his face, echoing the movement of his father earlier tonight. "You can't be fighting when you go in there."
Sirius turned back to look at me, his eyes still venomous.
"We're just there to gather information," I replied stoically. "The best way to gather that information is to talk to the people who have it."
"Flirt with them you mean?" Sirius said in a low voice.
"It doesn't mean anything, Sirius. It's for-"
"I swear to fucking merlin if you say for the greater good one more bloody time I'll scream."
"Well, what am I supposed to say?"
"Anything else," He begged. The anger in his eyes melted and was replaced with a sadness I hadn't expected. "You're not some sacrificial lamb, Red."
"So don't throw me to the wolves alone," I replied, never revealing the lump that formed in my throat as I said it. He looked away finally, the venom in his eyes long gone, and found something on the carpet to study. "We have to do this together. We go in, get as much information as we can, and we get the hell out of there."
"What if-" James started.
"No more hypotheticals," I cut him off. "If we're going to do this we have to make it worth it."
"I don't want to ask you not to go," Sirius begged.
"So don't."
James looked back and forth between us like he wanted to step in, but as Sirius and I glared at each other he realized there was nothing to be done. In the periphery of my line of vision, I watched him run a hand through his already messy beyond repair hair and heave a sigh. "We should all get some rest."
"Big day tomorrow," Sirius scoffed. A dull ache had settled in my bones sometime this afternoon and hadn't let up since, and Sirius's protests were only making it worse. The protests he'd promised not to voice left a throbbing in my chest, and the piercing stare of his blue eyes twisted the knife in further.
"To bed, both of you," James glared at his best friend.
"I need a smoke." Sirius stood up from the stair and stormed outside, slamming the door behind him as he went. I didn't turn to watch him go, and I didn't bother running after him, and neither did James. I kept my gaze fixed on the empty spot he'd just vacated, willing myself not to storm outside and give him a piece of my mind.
"He's just scared," James murmured.
"And I'm not?" My eyes flicked to him as he drained the remainder of his teacup, a grimace cued me in to the fact that Euphemia likely slipped something stronger into it as she'd done to me.
"If you are I never would've guessed."
"Well, I am." He nodded stoically as he turned his gaze back to the front door.
"Going back there isn't going to be easy for him."
"I know that."
"I don't think you understand, Ginny. It's not just a family he doesn't get along with, it's a family who's tortured him. He hasn't even told me the half of it, but I know that it's bad. It's not just a mission, it's a homecoming, one he never wanted."
"Then he should stay." I turned my gaze toward the door behind me.
"You can't go in alone."
"I'm fully capable-"
"No one doubts that," James sneered. All at once, the viciousness of his last comment melted away as he brought his hand through his hair again. "The last time I interacted with half the people who will be there, was when I pranked Slytherin house. Pink hair and howlers and tripping jinxes. Who knows which one they'd have experienced last, but they were all victims of our mischief at some point or another. Now they're murderers, and rapists, and responsible for all manner of vile torturous acts. It's not Hogwarts anymore. No one will be there to protect you if you go alone. Sirius has to go with you. He won't let you go alone." He took a pause. "We can't let him go in alone."
"I won't-"
"He changes every time they're around." I realized now that I was being briefed on a bit of information that neither Moody nor Fleamont Potter was privy to. "His voice changes, his mannerisms, the way he carries himself – he's like a different person. He's the person that they forced him to be. I'm telling you this because you'll need to mirror it. There are things that are expected of people like Sirius. He was the heir to an ancient bloodline once upon a time – he'll become the heir again. You have to be prepared."
"Alright."
"They'll say things about you, the men will. Their wives will watch you. Everyone will be watching you both. You can't let your guard down once."
"How do you know all of this?"
James smiled a tired and weary smile, "he's my best mate, Ginny, my brother. I don't know everything they did to him, but I can guess. If they want you to get information from Lucius Malfoy then showing up on Sirius' arm is the best way to do it."
"Lucius is jealous of Sirius?"
"Lucius is obsessed with Sirius," James corrected me with a raised eyebrow. "Anything Sirius had, Lucius wanted too. Anyone Sirius is with, Lucius has next. I can't explain it, but it's deeper than petty jealousy."
"I'll keep an eye on him."
"You need to watch him like a hawk."
"I will."
"Bring him home?"
"He'll be home before you can say Christmas," I replied. My mouth twitched in what I hoped might look less like a grimace and more like a smile. James mirrored the movement with a twitch of his own.
"You better be with him."
I nodded slowly, not quite trusting my voice anymore. The weight of the evening crashed down around me as I turned my eyes back toward the recently slammed front door. It took a lot of effort for me to turn my attention toward the stairs and to start up them, but I did it. I did it because I knew he just needed to cool off. I needed to cool off. He'd come to me when he's ready. If he's ever ready, that vicious voice in the back of my head purred. I pushed it away as I started toward the stairs.
December 23rd, 1977
11:51 pm
I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake me, and found that it was determined to remain elusive for as long as it could. Normally on nights like this, when the insomnia wouldn't relent, I'd find some tea, or read a book, or practice meditation like Hermione had taught me. But I couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. I couldn't find the strength to think about anything other than the task that waited for me in a few hours. I'd felt like I was performing since the moment I'd arrived. Save for a few moments, I'd played my part with ease: orphan girl finishing school. And now I'd be playing the hardest role yet: death eater sympathizer. I fought the shudder as it slid down my spine.
The creak of my door caught my attention, and I turned to find Sirius standing stoically at the entrance. I couldn't make out his face in the shadow, but I understood what brought him here anyway.
"Can't sleep?" I asked quietly. He didn't move from the doorway, only shrugging in response. I scooted over to the left of the double bed, flipping over the duvet as I did, and left the space open for him to choose what to do next.
It took only a minute for his mind to be made up, and he shuffled into the room, closed the door behind him, and climbed into the open space. His arms wrapped around my waist slowly, not quite pulling me into his chest, but leaving room so we could look into each other's barely visible eyes.
"I don't understand," he whispered.
"I had to-"
"No, I understand why." He took a shaky breath and I could make out his furrowed brow in the shadows. "I don't understand-"
"The logistics?"
He let out a breath and I could hear his head moving against the pillow to nod. "Moody said they wouldn't recognize you."
"They won't."
"That's what I don't understand."
"It's complicated."
"I have theories."
"Oh?"
"Polyjuice." I snorted. "Memory charms." It was a good theory, but wrong. I remained silent. "Time travel." I tensed under his touch. "A very in-depth undercover spy situation." I relaxed a fraction of an inch when he said it.
"Do you trust me?" I couldn't help the tremble in my voice as I asked it, or the way my pulse started to thrum faster. Some Gryffindor you are, I thought to myself as I waited for the answer I wasn't sure I wanted to hear. I felt his fingers tighten around my waist, bunching the fabric of the shirt – his shirt - in his fists as he breathed into the small space between us.
"Moody does – and Dumbledore."
"Does Sirius?" His eyes shot to mine. Illuminated by the light from the waxing moon that filtered through the curtains, I saw the depths of churning blue trying to make up his mind.
"I want to." I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding and reached up to trace the stubble on his chin with the pad of my thumb. It wasn't the yes I wanted, and it wasn't the no that I'd feared, but it was enough for me.
"I can't tell you everything, but I swear on my life – on my magic - that I have never lied about what happened to me at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters." I felt the muscle in his jaw tense at the mention of the Dark Lord and I used my thumb to ease the tension. Through the shadows, I could see the knit of his brow straining to decipher me.
"I believe you." He reached his hand up to mine and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on my open palm before returning it back to his jaw. "Can you answer one thing?"
"I can try."
"Was it worth it?" His question caught me off guard. It felt like he was still doing the math - still coming up with his hypothesis – trying to figure me out. And what should I say to him? I don't know. It was too soon to say. No. I'd already tried to stop Severus and failed. Yes. I found you and the Marauder's, and it feels like I finally fit somewhere. The right answer wasn't on the tip of my tongue. It wasn't at the forefront of my mind. The only thing I could think of was the blue eyes in front of me that so desperately wanted to trust me, and the chorus of voices in my head at war with each other over letting him in. Was it worth it?
"I'm trying to make it worth it." I felt the tear fall down my cheek and just as quickly as it moved, so did he. The rough pad of his thumb caught it before it could fall into my mouth, and he closed the distance between us with his lips.
He tasted like flying, like the wind whipping through my hair, like the thrill of soaring heights and high speeds, like freedom and reckless abandon. His lips sent me straight into the stratosphere and I clung to him so that he might come with me.
The fingers that were on my cheek a moment before found purchase on my hips as he used his weight to flip me onto my back. The familiar fire of his touch, sent waves of want through me as his fingertips began their journey across my stomach all the while his lips continued their onslaught on mine. His expert tongue demanded entrance into my mouth, and who was I to put up a fight against it? I whimpered as he explored, tracing my tongue with his, and setting forth an inferno of want deep within me.
We only separated when his fingers found my nipple, rolling it into a hardened peak between them, and causing me to gasp. He let out a sharp breath of his own when his fingers finally found their prize and moved his attention to my jaw. The fingers continued to roll, and massage, pinch and squeeze, sending jolts of pleasure through me. His lips continued their assault on my neck, working their way up toward the shell of my ear. As he took the lobe between his teeth I couldn't help my body's response as I arched up into his palm. He pressed me down gently and his hot breath ghosted along my ear, sending a shiver through me.
"You have to tell me to stop." He murmured into the crook of my neck and sucked the skin in between his teeth. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted more. I whimpered under the weight of him, under the menstruations of his fingers and lips. "Just tell me to stop, Red."
There was suddenly too much fabric between us as I reached for the shirt he was wearing and started to pull it over his head. He sat up to help me, kneeling between my thighs, and I moaned at the loss of his fingers on my breast, and his teeth on my jaw. The loss of contact was only felt for a moment as I leaned up to bring his lips back to mine.
The fire surged through me as he battled me for dominance in the kiss. It was all teeth and tongue. As I brought my hands up his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle that trembled underneath my fingertips, I broke the kiss – needing to taste his skin. I traced the hard planes of his chest with my tongue, finding a long scar slashing under his pectoral. I wondered where it came from. As I placed a reverent kiss along the blemish he shook under my lips, and I smiled against the movement. Taking his nipple in between my teeth he finally gave me the reaction I was hoping for.
"Merlin," he moaned. As the pebble slipped past my lips his hands were back on me, fisting the shirt I was wearing and pulling it over my head. I leaned back on my elbows and looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes. He panted above me, all hard muscles and flushed skin that glinted in the moonlight, looking mouthwateringly desperate for my attention. It was his eyes that caught me by surprise. Instead of the churning blues and greys, they were nearly black – pupils blown wide, and a dark storm of desperation in them that sent shivers of anticipation through me. But they weren't staring back into mine. They raked my body over, worshipping every inch of flesh with his gaze and leaving me desperate for his touch.
"Sirius," I breathed and his eyes closed for a fraction of a second as the word washed over him. I could see the tent in his pajamas twitch as the words breached him, and the eyelids shot back open to devour me again. With a single finger, he traced a line down my body, splitting me in half and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
"You're so fucking beautiful," He murmured as the finger traced the freckles on my stomach. "I could spend days counting these." The finger continued to draw reverent patterns along the panes of my stomach, dipping lower and lower but never going where I wanted them to. They caressed the line of my knickers and then moved back up again. The fire followed the pattern, and I shivered under the heat of his touch and his stare. I could feel my nipples straining for contact, desperate for his attention. "Would you like that, Red?" I shivered under his touch, whimpering in response and getting a wolfish grin in return. "So beautiful."
I closed my eyes under his praise and felt the weight shift. Before I could open my eyes to find out where he'd gone, his lips were on my breast, sucking the nipple in between his teeth. I let out a groan.
"You've gotta be quiet, Red," He murmured as he sucked harder. With a pop he moved his mouth away from one and onto another, kissing and biting and sucking along the way. As he pulled the other into his mouth I couldn't suppress the moan that escaped my lips. "Shhhh," he breathed into the valley between them, sending a fire through me that left me trembling. "You'll wake the whole manor." With a wave of my hand, I cast a silent locking and silencing charm on the room. He grinned up at me when he realized what I'd done. "Good girl, Red." I shivered under his praise. He took my nipple between his teeth again, and this time I let out the moan I'd been stifling.
He continued to kiss and suck along my body. Each brush of his lips, and nip from his teeth, a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god that had allowed this moment to transpire. He left me whimpering and trembling beneath his lips, desperate for more but unable to form the words to ask for it, as he moved lower and lower. The heat of his breath ghosted above my center and I looked down to find him staring up at me with obsidian eyes.
"Tell me to stop, Red," He whispered as he lowered his mouth to my covered center, placing a hot searing kiss where the bundle of nerves lay swollen and desperate. I only moaned in response. "Tell me to stop." In a long flat stroke, he licked over the fabric giving me a taste of what was to come.
"Don't stop," I managed to choke out through the heat of his attention. His thumbs hooked the corners of my knickers and moved them slowly – torturously – down my legs, kissing and biting and sucking as he moved. I was shaking, trembling, cursing as he slowly moved his way back up. I reached for him, trying to pull him up faster but he batted my hand away. "Please, Sirius," I begged as he licked the sensitive skin under my knee. "Please, Merlin, please I-"
"Patience, Red." His eyes met mine again, and there was something so desperate in his glance - like he needed to take his time, to watch me come undone under his stormy gaze, to feel me writhe under his attention. I felt his hot breath on my core and he froze. It wasn't like he was unsure, no Sirius knew exactly what he was doing. It was something else entirely. He was waiting for permission. Even though he had me writhing, had me pinned down, unable to move, he wanted me to ask for it – to beg him.
"Please, Sirius," I pleaded and it was all the permission he needed.
He used the pad of his tongue to touch me for the first time, and I heard him groan as he tasted it. He moved quicker now, never taking his eyes off of me, as he began his delicious torture. Sirius alternated between sucking on my sensitive clit and dipping his tongue inside of me, never spending long enough on either to push me over the edge. He brought me further and further up the hill, sucking and licking, watching and moaning as he devoured me.
"More," I begged. I could feel him smirk in response as he sent a finger into my core and tore a cry from my lips as he sank it in. With his other hand, he held my hips in place, leaving me desperate to squirm but unable to move. I brought my fingers to his hair, grabbing a fistful of his curls and holding him in place. He groaned as my fingernails scraped his scalp and sent a second finger into me in response. "Fuck, Sirius!"
"Language, Red," he whispered as he delved deeper – sucking at the bundle of nerves and plunging his fingers in harder. The crest of the hill felt closer and I felt the familiar tension inside as he continued his delicious torture.
"I'm gonna-"I gasped.
"Cum for me Ginny."
The sound of my name on his lips sent me tumbling over the edge. It was better than flying, like that moment just after you've kicked off from the ground and the familiar feeling of weightlessness comes over you. He coaxed me through my orgasm, continuing to lick and suck as I came down from the high.
"Tell me to stop." He whispered against the flat of my stomach as his tongue was replaced by the pad of his thumb, and he kissed his way north. He replaced two fingers with only one as he gently moved it inside of me, sending tremors of want through me once again before I'd even recovered. His teeth found my nipple, gently sucking on it and smiling when I trembled in response. "Tell me to stop, Red." His lips moved to my neck, sucking and biting once again at the sensitive junction between my neck and shoulder. It was sure to leave a mark. "Tell me to stop." He was at my jaw now, placing soft kisses along the bone as his thumb continued to circle the sensitive bud between my thighs – never enough to send me tumbling again but enough to leave me incoherent. "Tell me-"
"If you stop, I hex your bullocks off," I moaned and brought my lips to meet his in a crushing kiss. I could taste myself on his tongue and it sent a wave of fire through me. It burned me up and left me wanting more as the attention of his fingers and lips sent me toward the cliff. I brought my fingers down, suddenly realizing that he was still clothed, and set to work rectifying the problem. As I pushed his pajama pants down, I felt the length of him spring against my thigh. He groaned at the contact. I moved my hand down to touch him, to feel him, to drive him just as wild as he was driving me, and I broke the kiss. "Just tell me to stop?" Black eyes looked at me through heavily lidded lashes and I brought my free hand up to his face.
The desperation that I felt a minute ago was gone, replaced by the desire to watch him come undone through me. It wasn't a feeling I'd ever felt before, and as I wrapped my fingers around his swollen length I relished in the tremble of his body and the ripple of the waves in his eyes. I moved my hand up and back, basking in the glow of the sounds it elicited from him.
"Fuck, Red," he groaned as I tried to speed it up, but his fingers moved from my sex to wrap around my wrist. I froze. "I want to-"
"Please," I sighed. We shifted positions as he hiked my left leg around his waist and maneuvered himself toward me. I felt the length of him drag through the folds and let out a squeal at the contact. I was desperate for him, dripping, begging, and he waited. "Please, Sirius." He shuddered at his name.
"What do you want, Red?" He murmured.
"You." It was the permission he needed and he slowly sank himself inside of me. It was like being split open and made whole all at once. Every nerve was on fire as he seated himself inside of me. The warm, wet, heat of him sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body that left me trembling and incoherent.
"You're perfect," He whispered against the skin of my neck and placed a gentle kiss there. "Incredible." Another kiss on my collar bone as I shook and stretched. "So perfect." A kiss on my brow. "Beautiful." He rested his forehead against mine as he waited for me to adjust. I clenched against him and he swore under his breath. "Fucking diabolical."
"Move," I commanded.
He took no prisoners as he began to move against me. Pulling himself out and in, and building up the delicious tension in my core. He whispered praise and obscenities against my lips as he claimed them once again. His hands explored the curves of my hips, the small of my waist, and the swell of my breasts with firm fingers. In turn, I raked my fingernails across his back relishing in the shivers it sent through him, and the curses it elicited. He pinned me down, holding me beneath him as he chased his pleasure and mine. I squirmed beneath him, panting and desperate for control as he continued his drive through me.
Where I pulled, he pushed, pinning me down and grinning wolfishly as I fought for control. I brought my right leg to wrap around his waist and felt him grin against my lips. His grip on my thighs released just enough, and I used his vulnerability to flip us. Without coming apart I found myself on top of him and he looked up at me in awe. I halted all movement as I looked down at him. Sweaty curls were plastered to his forehead, and the flush of his pale skin in the moonlight made my mouth water. He gripped my thigh tightly to thrust upward, but I shifted away.
"Fuck, Red," He cursed as I took control.
"That's the idea, Black," I sank back down on him. We both groaned at the same time as his length brushed a spot in me that sent me shaking. I threw my head back and continued to grind myself on him, relishing in the grunts and curses my movement elicited from his mouth. His hand came up to cup my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingertips, while the other found the curve of my arse and urged me to move faster.
I took his pleasure from him, just as he had taken mine, and I felt something tingle inside of me that had nothing to do with the movement we were making. If I shut my eyes it felt like a chord had wrapped itself around us, binding us together. As I saw the edge of the cliff building inside of me, the chord tightened and we both gasped at the same time. I brought my gaze back to his, and he sat up to close the distance between our lips. It was like I could feel his magic surging around us, mingling with mine, and tying us together. It had never felt like this before – not with Dean nor Harry – it washed over my skin and sent waves of pleasure through me. Sirius' lips bruised mine until he was forced to part us with a gasp.
"I can't last," He murmured against my lips and brought his thumb back to my clit, circling it again. I bucked up, moaning at the contact, and saw the cliff before me. His thumb changed directions, and I saw stars.
"I'm – I'm –" I stuttered through tightly squeezed lids as the tension curled inside of me threatening my release.
"Look at me." Brown eyes met with a dark and stormy blackish-blue as I fell over the edge. He watched me as I came apart above him, continuing to drive himself home as I clenched around him. "Ginny I'm-" I stole the words from his lips with a kiss and I felt him release inside of me.
We came together, the rhythm of our hips slowly decreasing as we came down from the high. I broke the kiss, pressing my forehead against his to breathe. We panted into the darkness, finally coming to a stop as the peak of pleasure slowly eased to quiet tremors. He stayed seated inside of me, neither of us moving as the reality of what had just happened washed over us.
"That was-" I whispered.
"Magic," He finished. His hands moved from their place on my hips, caressing me softly along my back and waist. "I've never felt-"
"That before." My fingers reached up from their home on his shoulders to brush away the damp curls that were stuck on his forehead. As I moved one away from the corner of his mouth, he caught my finger in his teeth placing a gentle nip on the digit before releasing it. His hands found purchase on my waist and he used it to flip us over so I was on my back again. He slid out slowly, hissing as he moved, and I couldn't help but ache at the loss of him.
I rolled onto my stomach as he reached for my wand that lay on the bedside table. With a whispered "scourgify," the mess between my legs was gone, and a gentle tap on my hip let me know that he'd cast a contraceptive charm.
In the moonlight filtered in through the curtains, I basked in the afterglow of what we'd just done. I felt the welcome ache between my thighs, and the exhaustion of my muscles and the familiar feeling of completely satisfied exhaustion overwhelmed me.
Sex with Sirius Black was better than anything I'd ever experienced. It was better than fire fancies. It was better than hexing Slytherin's. It was better than quidditch.
He was propped up on his elbow, watching me carefully when I looked back at him. His eyes raked over my naked body, likely still flushed and shining from our activity. His fingertips traced the lines of my cheek reverently. "Beautiful," he whispered.
"So I've been told." He smiled a tired smile as the fingertips moved away from my face and down my neck.
The fingertips danced along my shoulder, and I leaned into the touch, giving him better access to my back. He grinned in response and continued his journey over the panes of my shoulders, and along my spine. The smoothness of the ride stuttered and I felt him shift upward to get a better view. He sucked in through his teeth and started to press softly along my spine.
"It's just an arse, Sirius, you've seen one before," I giggled into the pillow.
"Ginny, what the hell is this?" He asked sharply. My eyes shot open when I remembered what he was touching, where he was touching me, and the stories he hadn't heard yet.
"It's nothing," I tried to sit up quickly, pulling the sheets we'd kicked aside over my shoulders and placing some distance between us.
"Bull shit it's nothing." He jerked the sheet back down and fingered the tattered and torn flesh that hid beneath it. "What is this?"
"It's just an ugly old scratch," I shrugged trying to get away from him again. I felt the heat of tears threatening to fall from my eyes and quickly batted them away.
"Who did this to you?" He whispered.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes it bloody well matters, Ginny, who did this to you?"
"Death eaters."
"Death eaters?"
"Yes, for betraying my birthright." I felt the emotions bubbling in my chest all over again at the memories of that night in the dungeons. Refusal to practice the Cruciatus on first years was punishable by receiving the curse yourself, but they'd already tortured me twice that week and any more might have been noticed by McGonagall or Pomfrey, so Alecto suggested something a little more creative. Something that would still leave me desirable should a pureblood wizard want me – but not something that would let me forget what I was. I could still feel the crack of the whip along my spine, and the screams from Neville who begged them to do it to him instead. I could hear the laughter from Alecto's mouth as she used her wand to direct the whip where she wanted it. I could taste the blood in my mouth from biting my tongue so I wouldn't scream. I remembered her words when she was satisfied with her work. She released me from the binds that held me up and knelt over my trembling body. In my periphery I saw Neville, sobbing from the corner – his eye black and swollen from the fist that had struck him somewhere during the attack. I could smell her reeking hot breath before I felt it: "It's a T." I whispered through my tears, echoing the words she'd spat at me that cold January night. "T for filthy blood traitor."
He didn't move, and neither did I. We let my words hang in the air, because what do you say after you tell someone that? His fingers stopped tracing the scarred flesh on my back and I wanted so desperately to go back to five minutes ago when we were basking in the post-orgasm glow. But he didn't cover it back up. He didn't get up and leave me alone with my trauma and my scars. He only let out a slow breath and shifted upward so his lips hovered at the top of my spine. I shuddered under the hot breath and tried to squirm away from him, but he stopped me by kissing the top of the T. He placed soft worshipping kisses along the scar as if he could heal them with the brush of his lips to my flesh. He journeyed down my spine, and back up again, making me shudder under the attention and replacing the familiar feeling of shame with something new.
"It didn't break me," I breathed.
"How could it?" He asked as his fingers found their way to my cheek again, brushing the tears away with his feather-light touch. "The Ginny Cole I know is unbreakable."
"I'm scared."
"About tonight?" I leaned into his hand as it came to rest on my cheek and nodded. "Me too – I thought Gryffindor's were supposed to be courageous." We both let out a breathy laugh.
"Courage isn't the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear," I muttered, regurgitating the words that Hermione had gifted me the night before Bill and Fleur's wedding under the cover of darkness in the room we'd shared every summer since third year.
"Who said that?"
"Some muggle," I shrugged.
"Wise muggle."
"I think he might say it a bit differently if he had to walk into a pit of death eaters in a few hours." His thumb traced the skin under my eye, wiping the tears that remained there. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he stared down at me.
"Close your eyes, Red." I fought against the request but could feel the weight of exhaustion – both emotional and physical – threatening to pull me under. "It's alright. I'll protect you." His fingers moved from my cheek to comb through my hair. It was surely a tangled mess, but he took his time not to pull it as he brushed it away from my face. I relaxed into the touch and finally let the bone-deep tiredness pull me under. It was in that in-between place – the not quite awake and not quite asleep place – that I heard Sirius whisper. "They'll never touch you again, Ginny. I'll always protect you." And then I fell asleep.