Just a brief warning, some of the topics in this chapter may end up hitting a little too close to home for some people. If that is the case, I apologize. Just wanted to make sure I made that clear before the chapter. Thank you for reading!
Chapter 19: An end and a Beginning
Daphne
Her mother lay there, motionless, except for the slow rise and fall of her chest as she unsteadily drew in breath after labored breath. They came at intervals, and Daphne had gasped plenty of times now, assuming each elongated break to indicate her mother had breathed her last. At least now she would be ready when it truly happened, she had practiced her pained gasp plenty of time now, it'll be flawless.
Days ago, her mother had instructed Tippy to guide Daphne towards the bed she occupied once she had gotten back from Hogwarts. Apparently, she had promptly fallen unconscious after uttering those orders, and that was still how she remained; a motionless shell of the wonderful woman she used to be.
Daphne had attended the family dinner the night she returned, a dreadfully sordid affair. The house elves ensured the meal was exquisite, with a large assortment of options in which everyone could find something they enjoyed; the company, not so wonderful. Her father occupied the head of the narrow, elongated table, Daphne and her sister sat on opposite sides of each other about halfway down the wooden rectangle. The seat on the other end where her mother usually sat remained empty, for obvious reasons.
The space was nice, Daphne didn't have to eat within arms reach of someone else. Unfortunately, she was still within earshot of both of them. They largely ignored her while she struggled to eat steadily and keep her dignity in front of her father, the urge to rush to her mother's bedside becoming almost unbearable.
The conversation was not helping keep her urges at bay either. Her father had decided to invest all of his attention on his favored daughter, and Astoria was all too happy to oblige his preference. They spoke of mundane topics - how she was keeping up on her studies, others that Astoria had met, opportunities for social growth, the usual. Daphne had hardly said two words, yet she continued catching stray, scathing remarks from the two, accompanied by the occasional dirty look. Mostly revolving around the topics of her following her mother's footsteps, her choice of acquaintances, or her lack of social maneuvering. Daphne tried to ignore them, but it was challenging, seeing as how there was nothing else to focus on in the room. Only the occasional house elf popping in the drop off more food or to remove an empty plate.
After extracting every bit of information from Astoria that he could, her father returned in kind. Notifying Astoria of noteworthy events that had transpired in the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and just their society in general. Daphne had opened her ears then, it was always worthwhile to keep up to date on new events; she was always one to keep her ear to the ground.
He had mentioned rumblings of a big change approaching, something that would guarantee that purebloods would remain at the top of the hierarchy for the foreseeable future. He didn't elaborate any further, but Daphne had an inkling of what those rumblings were about. Daphne's father never actually pledged himself to either side in a conflict, he was more of an opportunist. He would wait as long as possible to ascertain which side had the best odds of coming out victorious, and he would flip allegiance in an instant if he sensed turning tides and it meant that the Greengrass name would be handed more fortune and influence after the dust had settled.
He told them of an attack in the ministry a week prior, as Arthur Weasley had been found bloody and clinging to life in the Department of Mysteries after hours. The man had been rushed to St. Mungos, and had somehow made a miraculous recovery. Daphne felt a pang of relief at that news, though she kept it well hidden inside. She had gotten off on the wrong foot with Ron Weasley, but he had since seemed to turn a new leaf. Since the beginning of the D.A, he had treated her and Tracey with respect and the occasional act of kindness. She had begun to find the older Twins' antics amusing at times, and had even gotten closer to Ginny, slowly becoming somewhat friendly with the younger girl. It wasn't as if it would have broken her heart, but to hear their father had recovered was a relief.
He lamented on how Minister Fudge still refused to acknowledge anything, even though it was obvious what was happening to anyone who paid even the smallest amounts of attention to detail. How the Minister and his undersecretary were up in arms about an uprising from Hogwarts, when Dumbledore wasn't even close to the greatest threat to his regime. Her father would have an aneurysm if he were to find out Daphne was a part of the group that was causing the Minister to endure so many sleepless nights.
He was resigned to the fact that the current Ministry had no hope to endure what was on the horizon, and those in power were as good as gone. Daphne knew, when push came to shove, what side her father was going to offer his aid and services.
He had finally dismissed them after two hours sitting at that table. Daphne had to restrain herself just a bit longer, rising and straightening her clothes like a 'proper lady'. Her steady strides brought her to where her mother lay, after a quick change of clothes into something a tad more comfortable. The four-poster bed had the white, translucent curtains drawn when she entered the room. Daphne slid the curtains aside with much hesitation, and fell into a chair that had been left at the bedside as she took in a sight she had been dreading since her run in with Malfoy in the forest.
Her normally pale mother had become nearly transparent, her veins and vessels visible under her skin if one looked hard enough. She was dressed in a pristine white robe that cut off at her collarbone, flowing all the way down to her wrists and ankles. She was left barefoot where the blanket had been thrown off, and her foot hung loosely over the side of the mattress. Daphne guided her leg back onto the bed and under the blanket, intent on keeping her mother as comfortable as possible while she awaited the inevitable. She was skinnier than Daphne had ever seen, and the sharp bones protruded from her body where the skin stretched to accommodate the change in weight.
Her once beautiful face was marred with scar tissue and painful sores where the dragon pox had come and went, leaving behind reminders of the horrific disease that had overtaken the proud woman. Daphne gently brushed a strand of hair away that had fallen over her face, hair that had faded to an ashen white from a rich, vibrant blonde coloring that Daphne had inherited. Her breaths passed her lips short and ragged, her eyes showing the occasional rapid twitch under her eyelids, as one did when they were dreaming; be it sweet or a nightmare.
Her hand was frigid when Daphne grasped it with her own fingers, the chill spreading up her arm, leaving her shivering in her seat. Daphne swore there was a twitch of life, of recognition, when their hands came into contact. But then, there was nothing. Just raspy breaths as her chest rose and fell with her unsteady, irregular breaths.
Daphne sat rigid, awaiting any sign of movement that indicated her mother knew she was there; a tightened grip, a smile, anything. The longer she sat there, the longer she watched, the more she began to lose hope that she would ever hear from her mother again.
Two days she sat, curled up on the chair, awaiting any encouraging sign. Her hand rarely, if ever, left the cold embrace of her mother's fingers, and she blatantly and willfully ignored multiple summons to dine with her father and sister. A stunt that he was assuredly none too pleased about, but Daphne had yet to be confronted about it. Perhaps he refused to entertain the notion that he cared at all for the well-being of his arranged wife that had caused him no small amount of poor publicity within his pureblood social circles.
Tippy had popped in quite frequently, bringing Daphne glasses of water and the aforementioned meals that her current commitment had caused her to miss out on. The house elf had inquired to her own health many a time, to which she had assured the worried elf that she was alright. Physically, she was telling the truth; emotionally was a different story.
Her mother used to be so full of life, so determined despite her imprisonment under the shackles of pureblood elitists. Daphne recognized none of that now, she barely recognized her mother's face; and that certainly took its toll during her guest stay in her mother's room, watching over the motionless husk that used to be her mother.
It took two missed dinners until something happened that made Daphne's breath catch in her throat.
She had dozed off in the chair, tucking her knees into her chest and ignoring her aching back in her desperate need for rest. A gentle squeeze of her hand aroused her from her light slumber. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes without a reaction, she had assumed it was a dream at first; the way things were going it almost seemed as if her mother would never wake up.
Another gentle squeeze startled her, she certainly wasn't dreaming that one, and she swung her wide eyes upwards. Daphne had barely felt the pressure surrounding her hand, but it was enough. Her gaze found a pair of icy blue, bloodshot eyes. Her eyes, they were open!
She clambered out of the chair, pushing the stabbing pain in her lower back to the recesses of her mind. Kneeling beside the bed, she caressed her mother's frigid hand with both of her own, and she thanked Merlin that her mother was still kicking. "Hi mum." Daphne choked out between already freely falling tears.
She gazed into her mother's eyes. They remained as vibrant as ever. The rest of her body had begun to break down, wear with decay, but her eyes, her eyes were still that striking blue that caught the attention of so many passersby. "My dear Daphne." Her voice was raspy and strained, as if her vocal chords had to relearn their basic function, yet light and airy, laced with the remaining affection she could muster. "Welcome back." Her hand left Daphne's, only to trail down the side of her face, relieving it of stray hairs and leaving a dull coldness in its wake. Daphne didn't care, her mother was awake. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, mum." She grabbed her cold hand, trapping it against her check in hopes of transferring some warmth back into the appendage. "Did you get my letter?"
The confusion in her mother's eyes gave her the answer before it could be said out loud. "I never received a letter." It was as she had feared, her father must have been screening their mail since her mother fell I'll, keeping any letters addressed to her far from reach.
Daphne sighed, regretting sending the letter if it hadn't even come close to reaching her, and her father most likely read the entire contents. She decided she could at least highlight the big event she had wanted her to know. "Mum, I got to ride a pegasus."
Her eyes lit up, and Daphne's heart swelled. "A pegasus?!" She exclaimed with what she had. "At Hogwarts?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "The new magical creatures Professor brought him."
"I thought they were extinct."
"In England." Daphne explained. "Professor Jackson is from the states."
"That's wonderful, Daphne." She gushed with a broad smile, brilliant as she could manage. "What was it like?"
"His name is Blackjack." Her mother's eyes slowly closed, a grin steady on her face as she awaited Daphne's description of her experience. Daphne steadied herself, determined to paint the picture in her mind. "It was…everything we dreamed about, mum. We soared high above the clouds, an untarnished view of the sun warmed my soul against the sky. The wind whipped through my hair, forcing tears from my eyes and my cloak to billow in our wake. His elegant wings beated against the air, and his powerful muscles rippled under his skin, and I had no fear; I just knew he would catch me if I fell. The time was much too short, but for once I felt alive, I felt free."
Her mother sighed a contented sigh when her tale came to an end, and shot a brilliant smile her way. "I'm happy for you, my dear."
"I wish you could've been there with me." Daphne dropped her eyes, a little guilt seeping in that she was the only one that got to experience what it was like flying with Blackjack. Her mother had suffered much more and much longer than she had.
"I wish I could've as well, dear." She smiled wistfully, staring up at the ceiling above her bed.
"I still take care of Blackjack." Daphne blurted out, unwilling to give up on her mother experiencing something so great the two had dreamed about for so long.
Her smile turned melancholy when her head swiveled to look at her daughter. "Perhaps one day…" She mused. "But, I fear my time is coming to an end, Daphne." A fresh round of tears slid down her cheeks and onto the sheets with soft splatters in the quiet room. She cradled her mother's hand against her cheek once again, and the tears redirected onto her cold skin. Silent sobs wracked her body at the thought, and she grabbed her mother's hand even tighter.
"You can't go…" She squeaked out between heaves. "I don't want you to go…"
"Daphne, Daphne." Her mother chided her, with a slow nod. "Everyone must go at some point."
"Not you. Not right now." She dropped her hand and plopped her forehead onto the bed next to her mother's shoulder. "It's not fair…"
"It's hardly ever fair." She imparted some wise words on her distraught daughter. "Look at me." She slowly gestured with her hand, her waning strength not permitting her to move at a quick pace. "We have to face reality at some point."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it." She mumbled into the blanket. She lifted her head, gazing at her frail mother once again as she left a wet spot where her face had been.
"Of course not." She weakly chuckled. "Oh, to have more time." She shook her head methodically, regripping Daphne's hand with her weak fingers.
"Our list is still big." Daphne sniffled. "Loads of things we- we still have to do."
"I have a feeling we're not going to get to those." She turned her head to fully face Daphne, and Daphne finally saw the tears that welled up in her eyes and fell with gravity as she tilted her head. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you, Daphne."
"Don't say that, mum." A new batch of tears fell. Daphne must be close to running out at this point. "You're g-going to be o-okay."
A slow exhale ran over her hands that remained covering her mother's. "Daphne." Daphne was doing all she could to not accept it, to will her mother's illness out of existence. It wasn't working. "I want you to promise me something."
Daphne furiously wiped away the tears that covered her face, sniffling the snot that had accumulated in her nostrils. "W-what?" She managed to ask.
Her mother's hand moved, finding purchase on her wet cheek, caressing her face with a warm gesture despite the chill of the touch. "I want you to find the life I never was able to. I want you to live free, do what you want, go where you want. Go traveling, be adventurous, find your own family. I want you to do everything we always discussed, do what I never could." Her hand dropped back on the mattress, but Daphne could still feel the touch on her cheek. "Can you do that for me?"
She composed herself enough to give a determined nod. "We'll do it together."
Another chuckle from the dying woman. "You were always so stubborn." Her mother blinked away more tears sliding down her cheek onto the pillow. "I love you so much, my little baby girl."
"I l-love you too, m-mum." Daphne could barely see now, the amount of tears falling from her eyes contorted her vision slightly, giving a watery film to her sight. She watched as her mother moved her head back, so she was facing directly up, looking back at the ceiling. She smiled, releasing one final sigh from her battered lungs. Her chest rested, and her eyes drifted shut. Daphne quickly snatched her hand again, unwilling, unable to accept what was before her. A few short, shallow breaths, and she stilled. Her hand became heavy, and slipped out of Daphne's grasp, falling one last time onto the mattress. Daphne waited with baited breath, hoping that this was all just a nightmare from which she would shortly wake, and her mother would be waiting for her with a few comforting words.
Nothing happened. Her mother's chest remained still, her limbs relaxed and the cold weight settled into Daphne's heart. "Mum?" Daphne took a shaky hand and shook the shoulder before her gently. Any stubbornness finally vacated her soul when her mother failed to respond, and she broke down. Tears cascading down, anguished cries running from her throat, and uncontrollable sobs wracked her body. She bent down further with the weight of fresh grief on her shoulders, resting her ear on her mother's still chest, wrapping her arms around her and hugging the frail body as close as she could manage. Her ear found nothing but silence, and her heaving shoulders shook her mother's body slightly while Daphne forced her eyes shut tight; hopefully saving the dress from excessive water damage. Her chest was tight, and her breathing came rapid and shallow, and her whole world seemed contained inside that one room at that moment.
Daphne, so caught up in her anguish, failed to hear a faint pop echo in the room. But, she felt a small hand come into contact with her lower back, beginning to rub small circles into her shirt. "Tippy is sorry, miss Daphne." It only made her cry harder, though it afforded a small measure of comfort for the grieving girl.
Daphne found she didn't care if Astoria and her father could hear her cries, and she wailed over the vacant body of her mother, the small house elf providing what little comfort she could.
Daphne didn't know how long she had been there, grasping at her mother, hugging her tightly against herself. Tippy had interrupted her after some time, informing Daphne that her father, in all his glory, had summoned her to his office. She had run out of tears at that point, with dry sobs all that her body was still willing to provide. No fresh tears had come for some time, though her cheeks remained damp and sticky. She thought it best to stop at her room before standing in front of her father, taking the time to improve her appearance. She cleaned her face and tamed her wild hair, straightening the rogue strands that had come undone.
She threw on more formal clothes for her summons, and she strided down the hall with a purpose towards her father's study. She threw her grief to the back of her mind for the time, saving it for later when she had the privacy of her room. She would probably be the only one partaking in the grieving process anyway. She made sure her cold mask was in place before she approached the solid door that she was absolutely dreading crossing through. She was hoping he wasn't planning on pushing too many of her buttons, her temper was going to be on a short leash and she feared she would have trouble keeping her emotions at bay this time. She took a deep breath, and as her shoulders fell back into place, she pushed open the door with a faint creek, and stepped into the sizable room.
Her father sat behind a desk, a quill in hand, writing furiously on a poor piece of parchment that surely did nothing to be treated that way. The room was bare for the most part, the dimly lit walls empty except for the Greengrass family tree that hung to the left side of the room. The only source of light in the room was the roaring fire that was directly behind where her father sat at his desk, casting his silhouette over the entrance Daphne had just entered. The flames cast their flickering lights over the tapestry of the family, and Daphne found where she and her mother were located on the fabric. Her mother's birth date was stitched under her portrait, but another line, that day's date, had been added underneath; and Daphne knew that her father was aware of the events that had transpired in the privacy of that room.
She shook off her trepidation, and her feet carried her to a stop in front of the desk. Her father held up a hand, catching any words in her throat while he took the time to finish penning his letter in her presence. It was a power play, he was indicating that the letter was more important than she in that moment; something Daphne didn't necessarily appreciate.
"Daphne." He greeted her coolly. "Our tapestry has been updated." He gestured his hand towards the side of the room, to what Daphne had already perceived when she walked into the room.
"I noticed." She deadpanned, hoping to get straight to the point of his summons.
"Indeed." He looked back down at his letter, raising it up into the firelight so that it was between himself and Daphne. He was scanning the letter slowly and diligently, keeping a lookout for any errors. "The Greengrass family is in a better place now."
Her temper flared, and she had to bite back her tongue for now. "Perhaps, it would be wise to refrain from insulting the recently deceased, father."
He scoffed, not taking her words seriously. "I sincerely hope you decide on a more noble path. Instead of being a disgrace to our family."
"We're already one of the richest and most influential houses." Daphne retorted. "How much more do you need?"
"We can always lose that." He sneered, slamming the parchment back down onto the desk, sending a jolt through the small items clattering on the desk. "And your mother did her best to see to that. You will begin to correct the damage, starting with your betrothal to the Malfoy heir."
"Malfoy?" She sent her own sneer his way. She had anticipated he would do something like this, but not so soon after her mother had left. "I refuse to be wed to that arrogant buffoon!" Her voice was beginning to raise in volume, her frustration and pent up anger leaking through with her frayed emotions from the day's events.
"You better warm up to the idea, daughter." He warned her, keeping his voice low and even. He kept his dark gaze locked on hers as he glared at her down his nose. "The contract has already been signed. Unless, of course, you'd rather live without your magic."
Daphne cursed mentally. The betrothal contract was binding, only able to be dissolved under breach of specific terms. And she knew her father and how slimy the Malfoy's were, she would wager a bet that there were minuscule and only very particular ways to breach the terms. If she refused when the time came, she would be found guilty of breaching a magically binding contract, and she would lose her ability to use magic.
Be wed to that miserable excuse for a human being, or have her magic taken away. Either way, Daphne was fucked.
Her anger spiked now, the culmination of years of her choices being taken away coming to a head now. Her life being determined every step of the way without her input, and now she was left with a crossroads that would ruin her life for good either way. All because of the arrogance of one power-hungry man.
"I hope you're happy." She began, dangerously calm. She could feel her rage bubbling just beneath the surface. "You have made every decision for me, you let my mum die! All for your… your greed for power!" She was screaming now, all thoughts of containing her emotions had flown straight out the window. She had moved forward, almost involuntarily, so she was leaning on the desk. "Everything in my life that I hate, is because of you!" She shoved her finger in his face, all the pent up anger she had put in the back of her mind erupted at once. She felt tears threaten to spill, but she was all out. "Fuck you! Fuck you and your wealth, and your influence! And FUCK THIS FAMILY!"
Daphne was running out of steam, and her throat began to sting and her breaths were rapid and shallow. But, all that didn't matter.
She never saw it, but she certainly felt it. Her head lurched back with such a violent movement that she was forced onto the ground, falling hard on her bum. Her cheek stung, her eyes watered, and her mouth tasted like copper. Her hand flew to her cheek that was the primary point of impact. She was in shock, unsure of what to do as she held her hand to her red cheek and stared at her father, eyes wide in disbelief and horror.
She knew he was a cruel and unapologetic man, but she never thought he would have resorted to that. He slowly made his way around the desk, not even bothering to look in her direction. His mouth was moving, but Daphne didn't hear a word he said on account of the dull ringing filling her ears.
He stopped in front of where she had fallen on the floor, and Daphne's ears had finally recovered. She found herself scrambling backwards in a desperate crabwalk, probably bruising her elbows in the process. It only took a few steps to catch up to her, and he bent over, lording over her prone form.
"Personal insults I can manage. But when you insult this family, you insult every single one of your ancestors and everything they did to provide you all that you have been given." He pointed a finger over towards the extensive family tree. "That cannot stand." He stood back up tall, meandering back to the desk with his hands clasped behind his back. "Your mother was a mistake by my own father, and a stain on that family tree. You will not embarrass this family the same way!"
Daphne's body was trembling, and her hand still refused to move from her throbbing cheek. He was unnervingly calm now, his anger a moment ago seemingly just a flash in the pan. "Good. You will be wed to the Malfoy heir. You will be a gracious wife. And you will help this house maintain its respectable status that it had enjoyed for centuries. Do I make myself clear?"
Daphne almost preferred that he kept yelling, his attitude now; cold, calculated and demanding, was much more disconcerting. Nevertheless, she fought through her trembling to give a short nod, if only to placate him for the time being. "Wonderful." He said with a thick layer of sarcasm. "Now, get out of my sight."
Daphne wasted no time with the dismissal, scrambling to her feet and rushing out the door without a single glance back over her shoulder. She slammed the office door, sprinting down the hallway, ignoring Tippy's cries as she went. She passed her sister's room and directly into hers, quickly shutting and locking the door.
She threw herself on the bed, face first into the pillow, and she began to bawl. She cried tears she didn't even know she had left.
Harry
Harry found himself in a dark room, not dissimilar to the rest of the house really. The whole house was dark and foreboding and light was a scarcity, hardly a location that inspired happiness and joy.
Anyway, he had wandered off after waking up early, boredom getting the better of him. There wasn't much to do at headquarters, mostly they just sat around and talked, it being too dangerous after Arthur's attack for him to go outside. On the plus side, he was able to spend a lot more time with his Godfather, providing some semblance of the father figure he had always desired.
He found himself staring, having come across the Black family tree on a large tapestry that spanned nearly an entire wall. Briefly scanning the names, Harry was amazed. He had no idea how many families were actually related to the Blacks, and how many of those families had members that actually went to school with him. Harry wondered if every pureblood family was related somewhere down the line…
"I see you found my family history." Sirius' raspy voice called out to him. He stood in the doorway, barely illuminated by a miniscule amount of light that originated from a candle or two on the wall. "Never thought I'd find you here, I don't even go in this room." He came to stand next to Harry, gazing upon the tapestry along with him.
"Where are you?" He hadn't seen Sirius' name during his brief search.
He placed his finger on a burn mark. The portrait was gone, along with the name and date of birth. "That's me." He said with pride. "Got burned right off the tree, one of my proudest accomplishments."
"So they burned your portrait?"
"Oh yeah." He answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Dear old mum didn't approve of my getting sorted into Gryffindor. And then I shaked up with James' folks for a while, and they really didn't like that."
"Did they disown you?"
"Never officially. That's why I still got the family home." He said, jovial and bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Seems a bit overkill for a disagreement, honestly." Harry pondered out loud.
Sirius barked out a short laugh, almost mockingly. "They weren't ones for dissenting opinions. They burned Andy off too." He pointed out another scorch mark that was adjacent to their own.
"Andy…?"
"Andromeda, my sister, dear Nymphadora's mum." Sirius explained. "She decided to marry a muggle, you can imagine the circus that decision unleashed."
"That bad, huh?" He ran his fingers over the two black burn marks. They were crumbly under his touch, and soot still stuck to his fingers even after all these years.
"Dear mother's painting still screeches about it after all this time." Sirius joked. "But there's no point wasting about in this old room. C'mon Harry, Nymphadora and Percy are leaving soon." He layed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, steering him away from the tapestry.
"They're leaving?" It was the first that Harry had heard about that from anyone. He really hadn't heard much since the night of Mr. Weasley's attack.
"Gone for a week." Sirius opened the door and led him through. "Some of us aren't too keen on it, after what happened to Arthur."
Harry could imagine most of the order wanted to stay together, in case something else were to happen they'd be at full strength. "What about you?"
"I understand their want to get away. Merlin, I've wanted the same since I got back to this shithole."
Harry snorted in amusement at his assessment of Grimmauld Place. Sirius smiled and winked in response. "I'm glad Mr. Weasley is okay." Harry had seen him earlier that day, ranting about how exciting muggle inventions were just like his normal, cheery self. It was as if nothing had happened to him at all.
"Everyone is. Harry, look." He spun Harry so they were face to face, grabbing each shoulder firmly with the corresponding hand. "What happened to Arthur was terrible, but I don't want you blaming it on yourself. You had nothing to do with it. In fact, you're a hero, understand. Without your actions, Arthur would not be here today."
Harry gave him a small nod, not meeting his gaze. It still felt like it was his fault, he was the snake. He watched Mr. Weasley get attacked without doing anything. Maybe if he was stronger he could have changed something, influenced the snake or whatever. He just felt helpless watching it.
"Say you understand, Harry." Sirius wasn't taking his noncommittal nod seriously. Harry finally met his intense gaze, his sharp eyes and sunken cheeks framed by long black hair.
"I understand, Sirius." He was finally satisfied, and Harry could admit he did feel a bit of the blame fall off his shoulders at his declaration. Merlin, he wished Sirius could have been there his whole life, instead of rotting away in Azkaban as an innocent man.
"Thank you." Sirius said softly. He then clapped his shoulder, causing Harry to bounce a bit. For someone who had lost a lot of weight in Azkaban and hadn't recovered it yet, he was surprisingly strong. "Now, let's go see those lovebirds off, yeah?"
"Lovebirds?"
"Are you blind, Harry." Sirius asked him incredulously, and rhetorically. He continued walking, forcing Harry to walk by his side to keep the conversation going. "Someday you're gonna wish someone looked at you the way those two look at each other."
"So, where are you goin', mate?"
Percy was seated at the dining table when he and Sirius entered, leaned back in the chair with his hands behind his head. His legs were situated so that his left ankle was perched on his right knee; all in all, he was very relaxed. "America." He answered Ron's question simply.
"Yeah, but where?" The red-head reiterated.
"New York."
"It's in the Northeast, Ronald." Hermione cut him off before he could ask again. She noticed the look on his face and asked before Ron could annoy Percy. Ron leaned back, his mouth forming a silent 'oh'.
There was a crowd to see the two off. Well, Harry wasn't entirely convinced they weren't mainly there for breakfast either, as Mrs. Weasley toiled away in the kitchen, the clinking of pots and pans ringing out from the side room. Percy and Tonks just happened to be leaving around the same time they ate every morning.
The timing had apparently led to an impromptu questioning of their trip details, with all the Weasley children and Hermione seated along with an excited looking Hestia Jones and a concerned Remus Lupin. Percy was the only one that sat without a plate of delicious smelling food in front of him, for reasons unknown.
"Percy, dear." Mrs. Weasley called from the doorway to the kitchen. "Would you like some breakfast?"
"No, thank you Molly." He waved her off politely. "We were planning on eating breakfast with my mom." Well, that answered Harry's question.
"Harry, Sirius, there you are." Mrs. Weasley said when she noticed their entrance. "Let me get you some plates." She hurried back through the door, not giving them a choice in the matter. Not that Harry would ever refuse her cooking, as his stomach growled at the aroma that filled the dining room.
Harry sat, Sirius next to him as Hermione opened her mouth again. "Where is Tonks?"
"Finishing her packing." Hestia piped up after swallowing a bit of lovely bacon. "She always waits till the last minute." She said cheekily, leaning back in her chair.
"How long are you gone for, Percy?" Harry asked from his seat, still waiting on Mrs. Weasley's food. He knew Sirius told him a week but he wanted to hear it from Percy.
"Probably about a week." There it was. So, Sirius was right.
"I still don't like this." Lupin said cautiously, picking at the eggs and bacon on his plate. "What if something were to happen while you two are gone?" That has been on Harry's mind as well since a short while ago when he learned of this trip. Apparently it was on many minds, judging from the amount of nods that followed Lupin's statement.
"Dumbledore knows how to get a hold of us."
It was then that Mrs. Weasley hurried over with her excited gait, depositing two heart plates full of generous helpings of breakfast before Harry and his Godfather. Sirius showed his appreciation with a quiet thank you, and Harry piggybacked on his action. He wasted no time digging into the meal with fervor, scooping large bites into his eagerly awaiting mouth.
The door suddenly smacked against the wall with a loud bang, and Tonks looked sheepish, having opened the door with a bit more force than necessary. She went to apologize to Sirius for denting the wall, but he just waved off her concerns with a lazy motion of the hand that was free of breakfast duty. "I think I'm ready." She declared to the room.
"Is- is that what you're wearing?" Percy asked, leaning forwards in his chair, looking awfully concerned now. Harry failed to see what his reservations were about Tonks' dress. She was wearing a simple white button up shirt, the top few buttons left undone, matched with a pair of black pants. Overtop, she wore a long, beige overcoat that fell to nearly the floor, coupled with a fedora of the same color that sat atop her pink hair. Harry thought her outfit looked good.
"I was planning to, seeing as how I put it on." She sassed his concern. "Why? What's the matter?"
"A trench coat and fedora?" He pointed out the obvious. Everyone in the room could see what the auror was wearing. "Is that how you think people dress in America?"
"Yes." She answered simply, only to take a breath for further explanation. "My dad used to watch this show on the telly, was set in America. Everyone on the show dressed like this."
"Did that show happen to be set in the 1930s too? What was it called?"
"I dunno." She adopted an inquisitive look, rubbing her chin with her fingers while she racked her brain. "It was The Untouchables, or something like that."
"You dressed like a mobster. We can stop and rob a bank on the way, if you'd like." Percy joked with a smirk.
"Would you like me to change?"
"No it-"
"Cause I can change, if that's what you want."
Percy held out both hands in front of him in an attempt to placate her rising temper. "I was just joking, Tonksy. It'll be fine." She didn't look convinced. "Trust me." She took a moment, then relaxed again and shoved her trunk out of the way of the door.
She suddenly perked up and smiled at the assembled group, taking a few steps towards the table. "What's for breakfast?"
Percy answered before anyone else could. "I thought we were eating with my mom when we get there?"
"Oh, that's right." She looked slightly disappointed. Harry would be too if he ever had to miss Mrs. Weasley's cooking. She sat down, reclining in the chair after pulling it away from the table. She propped up her feet, plopping her shoes onto Percy's bouncing leg with a cheeky smirk. He glanced at her feet, raising an eyebrow high, though he did nothing to remove them from his leg.
"You really should have something before you leave." Mrs. Weasley insisted with a huff and her hands resting on her hips. "I insist."
"We're okay, thanks Molly." Percy responded with a gentle smile. He glanced at his wrist, pretending to check a watch on his empty wrist. "In fact, we should probably get going soon." He mused to Tonks. In response, she dropped her feet to the ground and leaned forward in the chair, resting her chin in her palm.
"How are you even getting to America?" Out of everyone at the table, it was surprisingly Ginny's soft voice that had spoken out from the group. The usually reserved Weasley pushed her cleaned plate away from herself and wiped her hands on a napkin.
"You'll see." Percy stood out of his chair, Tonks following suit. "I should probably call her, or we're going to be late."
"Her?"
He didn't say anything, only smirked and pulled what looked like a whistle from out of his pocket, giving it a happy little shake. He brought it up to his lips and drew in a deep breath. Harry was one of a few to rush to cover his ears, expecting the ear piercing shrew noise that usually comes from those things. Except, when Percy released his breath, there was no sound.
There was a pause, all of them waiting, anticipating something to happen. A few curious looks began to be thrown around at the lack of activity, wondering what exactly it was that Percy did.
Then, a little bit of hell broke loose. A huge mass of black fur crashed into the room, sending everyone into a panic. A massive midnight black dog stood in the center of the room, blood red eyes focused briefly on each person around the table. Harry had thought that Sirius' animagus form was big, this beast that stood in front of them was bigger than a muggle car.
It narrowed its eyes, finding about ten wands pointed directly at it. It arched its back, lowering its head towards the ground and slightly opened its mouth, revealing razor sharp fangs that would do some serious damage with little effort. They stood, nearly paralyzed with all their arms outstretched, unsure of how to proceed, but ready in case the beast made a move.
Then, it took a big sniff, and seemed to immediately relax. That didn't alleviate the people in the room from their tension, as one tended to remain when a massive dog appeared in your kitchen. It sat back and raised its head to take another sniff, the loudest sniff Harry had ever heard. It excitedly turned in a circle, throwing the present wizards and witches for a loop, as it suddenly began to act like a newborn puppy.
That all changed the moment it laid eyes on Percy. There was a brief pause, then the beast pounced.
It knocked Percy to the ground, falling directly on top of him, and its open jaw went straight for his head. Screams of panic and alarm filled the room, even from Tonks, as the beast attacked one of their own as he screamed in pain underneath the massive beast. It took a moment for anyone to get over the shock, but then they leaped into action to protect Percy. A spell on Harry's lips aimed at the foul creature, only to pause when Tonks stepped in front of it, her hands held up to stop them.
Everyone heeded her gesture, but kept their wands at the ready. The longer they stood there waiting, Percy's screams of pain began to transform into laughter. Harry took a closer look. He noticed that Percy wasn't injured, he was chuckling as the beast's long tongue slid over his face again and again, covering his features in a thin coat of saliva.
"Hey girl-oof- ge'roff me!" The beast immediately obeyed, backing up and allowing Percy to sit up from his prone position. It kept its gaze trained on Percy, tail wagging madly, and Hestia Jones had to scramble away to avoid getting knocked out from the thing. He wiped his face making a noise, but a smile remained.
The beast, becoming impatient, barked to get his attention. It was the single loudest thing Harry had ever heard, and everyone else - sans Percy - jerked their hands over their ears with a flinch. Percy rose from the floor, giving the beast a friendly pet on the top of the head, to which it leaned into. "Sit." He commanded, and the beast's butt hit the floor, causing the dishes to rattle with the force.
Nobody could form any words, only staring blankly, disbelievingly, at Percy and the beast in the kitchen. So, Percy took the initiative. "Everyone, this is Mrs. O'Leary. Mrs. O'Leary, this is everyone." He made a broad stroke with his arm during his introduction of 'everyone' to the beast - Mrs. O'Leary, apparently.
"Wha- what in Merlin's name is that, Percy?" Sirius asked, the first one to have his bearings return to him.
"Mrs. O'Leary's my dog. She's a hellhound." He enthusiastically scratched her massive head with both hands, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth, clearly enjoying the attention. "Only friendly one alive. That we know of." It's a good thing the dining room at Grimmauld Place was quite sizable, the hellhound probably wouldn't fit in most rooms other than the one they were in.
"What's a hellhound, Perce?" Tonks asked, still looking at the dog with disbelief and a remaining bit of trepidation.
"She's a hound… from hell." He deadpanned. Tonks immediately threw her hand out, smacking him on the shoulder with an annoyed eye roll. She just gave up after that with a huff, letting the matter drop for a moment. Harry couldn't say he was interested, but any words were still caught in his throat from the hellhound leaping from… wherever it came from.
"You ready?" Percy asked Tonks. Harry could tell from his voice that he was happy to be going home. Harry would be eager to visit home too if he had taken an extended stay in another country. He didn't doubt he would develop a small case of homesickness when he panned his gaze across everyone gathered around the table.
"Ready for what?"
"Mrs. O'Leary is our ride." He patted her side a few times, and it sounded like someone was hitting a large bag of sand, or something of that nature. An object that was particularly dense and solid.
"How is that going to work?" She questioned, eyeing the much less intimidating hellhound, now that its tail was wagging and staring at Percy with large, red eyes. It was almost smiling while pawing him gently on the shoulder in a bid for attention.
"My girl here is excellent at shadow travel." He informed her, and everyone else, like it was obvious, while scratching her chest with force. Harry had a general idea of what that was just from what it was called. That's how she must have burst into the kitchen from thin air. Those scratches must have felt pretty great, her back foot thumping against the floor with a solid thud every time, slightly shaking the house.
"What's that?" Tonks kept firing off questions. Harry didn't blame her, Percy kept answering with a statement that would force everyone to ask another question because he always brought up a new term in the process. Tonks was just vocalizing what everyone was feeling.
"Traveling from shadow to shadow." He shrugged. "Feel like it's pretty self-explanatory." And he was right, but apparently nobody in the room besides Percy had ever heard of it before, as they all nodded in acceptance and realization at his admittedly basic explanation. It was good enough for Harry, Tonks too.
She nonchalantly shrugged, accepting what Percy was telling her at face value. Her trust in the man overriding any questions or concerns she had. Harry was in the same boat. Percy had proven himself time and again to him and the others in this room, enough to at least get the benefit of the doubt in a situation such as this.
She bent down to grab her trunk, but Percy beat her to it. He hefted the trunk with one hand, a trunk that Harry knew from experience was not light, making it look as if it were effortless. Mrs.O'Leary laid down flat, and Percy hopped on her back, holding the trunk behind his own. He saved a space in front of him, and he gestured towards Tonks to follow his lead. She did without hesitation, throwing her leg over the massive hound, settling in right behind its muscular shoulders.
Percy threw his free arm around her waist, and she noticeably leaned back, perhaps a bit more than necessary. Harry finally noticed what Sirius was talking about when Tonks looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Percy to inform him that she was ready. He could see it shining in both of their eyes. He couldn't remember anyone looking at him like that, perhaps except from his parents in the Mirror of Erisad.
Hestia Jones sauntered towards them, smirk present on her lips. "Have fun you two." She teased, winking obviously. Tonks' face reddened slightly, but Percy only chuckled.
He patted her side, clicking his tongue to get her attention. She stood, and Tonks wobbled a bit with a look of alarm, not used to the movement. Percy tightened his hold around her waist, steadying her in front of him, and her face instantly relaxed. "C'mon girl." He said, "Let's go home."
The massive dog lumbered around to turn towards the corner of the room, struggling to turn around in the space that she barely fit. Her hindquarters brushed the table, sliding the huge piece of furniture with an ear piercing shriek.
Mrs. O'Leary squared down, flexing her legs in anticipation. She released a booming bark, and released the tension in her legs, leaping for the corner of the room. Harry was expecting something grand, maybe a burst of noise, a flurry of colors, or strands of darkness exploding from the shadow. But there was nothing, they just… vanished.
"That was anticlimactic." One of the Twins quipped after they took a moment to take in the event. Murmurs of agreement followed his assessment. Apparently, most of them were of the same mindset as Harry.
"I know I was expecting a bit more." Sirius said, summarizing everyone's thoughts on the matter. "I am glad that dog didn't destroy the kitchen, though."
"What about the whole house?" Ron blurted out. "That dog was bloody massive!"