Blind
Grace presses Greengrass for answers, and doesn't like what she hears.
"Have you heard about this?"
Grace gave Davey an irritated side-glance. It had hardly been her idea to have him accompany her to their first Potions class of the year, was it? Normally, she would have sped off with Greengrass as soon as she caught sight of Davey, but the auburn-haired girl wasn't taking N.E.W.T. Potions (much to Grace's chagrin).
"Heard about what?" she asked reluctantly.
He thrust the copy of the Prophet he'd been reading towards her. Grace caught sight of the title—THE HOGSMEADE HORROR—and she swallowed thickly. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.
"Oh," she let out after a moment.
"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Davey said conversationally, folding up the newspaper as they reached the threshold of the Potions classroom.
Grace caught a flash of the moving photograph under the headline; it was a mess of green and grey, a swirling emerald skull and snake plastered against the backdrop of the sky. Grace didn't remember seeing that when she had been in Hogsmeade that fateful day, but amongst the chaos and the confusion, perhaps it had simply slipped her gaze.
"Yeah," Grace agreed absently, and stepped into the classroom. Her eyes dotted about the room sharply, trying to pinpoint someone she could partner with that was not Davey.
She caught sight of Regulus almost instantly. He was sat in the front, early as usual, with Rosier as his partner. (Yaxley, it appeared, hadn't made it into N.E.W.T. Potions, and the thought was enough to make Grace smile.)
"There's a spare workbench in the center there," Davey pointed out quite unnecessarily.
He swung his finger towards the area, and Grace followed it hesitantly. But her eyes never reached the spare workbench Davey was talking about, because they were captured by the sight of a scruffy boy sat at a lone table and poring over a book of gibberish.
"Dirk?" Grace breathed in disbelief, and made a beeline for the boy.
"Er—Grace—?" Davey called out unsurely.
She ignored him, and set her stuff down at Dirk's desk. Her books thudded against the wood, and Dirk looked up in a daze. His dark eyes flitted over her beaming form for a moment before returning to his book.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey?" Grace repeated incredulously, taking a seat beside him. "I haven't seen you once this past week, and all I get is a hey?"
Dirk rolled his eyes. "Thank you, your Majesty, for gracing me with your presence."
She smiled. "That's more like it." She peered over his shoulder at the book he was reading. It was filled with odd, crooked symbols and swirling lines. "Still on the Gobbledegook thing, then?"
"'Course I am. I'm applying for the liaison office come summer."
Grace's brows rose. "Oh," she said, and suddenly wished she had Sprout for a Head of House instead of Slughorn.
When she'd told Slughorn she was planning on becoming a tarot reader, he simply stared at her for five minutes and then gave her a pamphlet about secretarial Ministry jobs. She'd burned the pamphlet and promptly gone to Vablatsky for an actual career counseling session.
"Do you need N.E.W.T. Potions for that?" she asked. "I don't recall you taking it last year."
"Oh, no—I dropped all the classes I was taking last year," Dirk said matter-of-factly.
Grace's brows shot up. "What? Why would you do that?"
He sighed and peeled his eyes away from his book. "It was just that Defense and Charms and Herbology were getting boring, you know? It's all just a new spell or a new plant every class, and we've been doing that every year we've been here at Hogwarts. I wanted to try something fresh, at least for my last year, so I went with Magical Theory and Muggle Studies—"
"Muggle Studies?" she repeated in disbelief. "But wouldn't that be boring? You know all about that already!"
"Yeah, but it's hilarious to hear what witches and wizards think Muggles are up to. The other day, Swindells told us that Muggles use rubber ducks to ward off water spirits."
"Er—is that not what they're used for?"
He shook his head fondly at her. "You're all so blissfully unaware…"
"Right," she said uneasily. "But, again, why are you taking N.E.W.T. Potions, especially if you wanted a change of pace? You know this class is a drag. Do liaison offices require it?"
Dirk sighed. "Sprout said I needed at least one class that wasn't all theory. I thought this was one would be the easiest, since it's Slughorn and all."
Grace clucked her tongue in understanding. Dirk's gaze returned to his book, and Grace's began to travel around the room. There were only a few students in Potions, but that was to be expected given the small size of returning students. They were all huddled in pairs, most with copies of today's Prophet.
An image of the floating snake and skull flashed before Grace's eyes as a Hufflepuff flipped open his copy of the newspaper.
Grace had expected to get in trouble for sneaking into Hogsmeade that day. She had taken a rattled Sophia to the Hospital Wing, after all, and figured that—quite rightfully—Sophia would tell all to Pomfrey. But the young girl hadn't. In a feat of loyalty that could rival that of even the most stalwart Slytherin, Sophia had refused to say a word about what had happened.
But maybe she should have. Maybe Grace should have gone to Slughorn, or Dumbledore even, and told him about the passages, about the many vulnerabilities Hogwarts possessed.
She sighed and ducked her head, shutting her eyes for a moment. It still didn't feel quite real. She had been there when it had all gone down…and yet, somehow, it seemed impossible. How could a town so close to Hogwarts be in danger?
"Dirk?" Grace said after a moment. "Why are you at Hogwarts at all? You must be the only Muggle-born who chose to come back this year."
He lifted his eyes from his book. "What?" he scoffed. "You expected me to stay in Tutshill and let those duffers win?"
It was like a switch had been flipped. Grace grinned instantly.
"Gross," Dirk said. "You're in a mushy mood."
"No, I'm not," she said immediately.
"Yeah? Then stop smiling at me like that. You're creeping me out."
Her smile didn't lift in the slightest. "It's nothing," she said simply. "It's just been one hell of a week, and I'm happy to finally have a normal interaction."
He snorted. "You're calling me normal? You really are losing it."
She laughed. Perhaps things were looking up after all. If Dirk—Muggle-born Dirk with his anxious parents—had decided to come back to Hogwarts, then surely things weren't as bad as they seemed.
I saw Slughorn docked a few points from the potion you and Rosier made. If he's not a good enough partner, you know we can always partner up instead, right? The Potter potioneering gene makes me impervious to mistakes, so—
"Is that your diary?"
Grace threw her quill away and covered the spellbound sheet as best she could. She glanced up and relaxed when she saw it was only a curious Greengrass.
"Interesting," Greengrass noted as she saw the words Grace had written begin to disappear. "But how're you supposed to look back at your entries if they all vanish?"
"It's not a diary," Grace grumbled, folding up the sheet. "It's a sheet that's connected to another sheet. You write a message on this one and it disappears as it's sent to the other."
A stunned silence followed.
Grace glanced cautiously at Greengrass, and found, to her surprise, that the girl seemed disappointed by this news.
"What?" Grace probed.
"I was searching for something like that during the summer," Greengrass muttered, turning away. She began to take out her Defense textbook. "But I couldn't find anything like that. Not even at Borgin and Burkes…"
"Yeah, well, I reckon this is the only one of its kind," Grace said, lamely slapping a hand against her sheet. "Regulus and I made it back in fifth year."
Greengrass pursed her lips. "Of course you did."
"Er—if you want a pair of sheets, I could make them for you."
Grace could scarcely believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Every conversation she held with Greengrass seemed to end with the two at odds…but it wasn't as if Greengrass had been particularly troublesome these past few weeks. In fact, it had been quite the opposite. Greengrass was a diligent partner; she put in her work, didn't ask anything unreasonable of Grace, and was rather excellent at keeping Gamp at bay.
What was one favor?
"It's not very hard," Grace continued. "I just need to dig up the ingredients for the potion to coat the papers in. And we've got to put a charm on the sheets in the end—but that's not my strong suit, so if you'd rather do it—"
"No, it's fine," Greengrass cut in briskly.
Grace stared at her. "Well, if you're sure…but you sounded like you really want one. It's honestly no trouble. The ingredients aren't hard to come by."
"No, it's just—" Greengrass exhaled sharply. "I wanted one for Lila and me. She told me she wasn't coming back at the end of last year, and I thought if I could find a way to keep us in contact with one another then maybe it wouldn't be so bad…but I couldn't find something discreet enough."
"Oh," Grace said, sinking against her seat. "That's right. Colvin went into hiding already, yeah? We wouldn't be able to get her half of the sheet to her, then…"
"No," Greengrass said quietly.
Grace's eyes flickered over the sullen girl. "You really miss her, don't you?"
Greengrass's pale eyes snapped to hers. "You don't know what it's like not to know," she said quietly. "I don't know if the silence is good or bad. If no contact means she's doing well or badly. I mean…" She glanced surreptitiously at Grace and swallowed thickly. "Forget it."
A steady silence fell between them. Grace ran her fingers over the feather of her quill for a moment before letting out, "I'm sorry. You're right. I wouldn't know what that's like."
"It's fine." Greengrass waved her hand dismissively, somehow composed as ever. "And—er...thanks for the offer, I suppose."
"Yeah, 'course—"
The door swung open, and Vance strode in. She was dressed in the sweeping dark grey robes that were standard issue for all Aurors. The front of her robes were splattered with dirt, and there was a nasty cut along the edge of her jaw.
"Sorry for the tardiness," Vance panted as she entered. As she walked to the center of the classroom, she waved her wand over her clothes, vanishing any trace of soil from them. "I was—er—held up by something."
The class stared at her.
"What're you all sitting around for?" Vance said. "Come on—up, up! We've yet to master the Patronus. Go on—get into your pairs."
Grace scrambled up and stood besides Greengrass rigidly.
"Here we go again," Greengrass grumbled, and swept her wand into an arc. A well of silver light poured from the tip.
"Does she actually expect us to produce a corporeal Patronus?" Grace asked under her breath after she produced a few strong spirals of white light. "There are fully grown wizards who go their entire lives never being able to produce an actual Patronus."
"Then I suppose this is the only thing we'll be doing this whole year."
Grace blanched. "You can't be serious. I'll go mad if we keep this up any longer. We're all clearly rubbish at this." She shook her head. "You know—if producing a Patronus is any indication of how good or bad we are, Vance is going to have to lock us all up."
Greengrass snorted. "It is a famously difficult charm," she reminded Grace. "I'll be surprised if anyone manages to get something even remotely corporeal within the first month, let alone the first two weeks."
"Oh, Merlin, we'd better not be doing this for any longer than a month," Grace moaned. "I was actually looking forward to what Vance was going to teach, you know? She started off so well, talking about survival and whatnot. Now I think she's just trying to create less work for herself."
"Would you rather we still had Hobbles?"
Grace winced. Hobbles had been the DADA professor last year, and while the doddering old man had meant well, he had an irritating tendency of mumbling through his spells and accidentally setting things on fire because of it. On one occasion, Hobbles mispronounced the Reductor Curse and burnt Grace's Transfiguration essay.
"She's better than Hobbles," Grace admitted, "but I wish she'd just move on. I feel like we're just wasting time on this is all. I mean—"
A flurry of gasps swept through the classroom, and Grace cut herself off prematurely in favor of twisting around to the source of the noise. A flash of silver skittered across the floor, and Grace realized with a sort of dull astonishment that someone had at last managed to cast a corporeal Patronus. It was a tiny thing—a lithe kneazle-cat lurking about the corners of the room. Its fur was a deep silver, and under the light of the windows, occasionally flashed brightly. Its eyes were a dark grey, and darted about the classroom almost warily.
"Wonderful work, Mr. Black," Vance complimented, coming over to inspect the Patronus.
Regulus was stood with his back flush against the wall, staring at his prowling Patronus with a shade of bewilderment similar to Grace's. Besides him, Yaxley was scowling.
Grace tore her eyes away from the scene. "Wonderful," she muttered scathingly. Her mind flew to her copy of the spellbound sheet. She was yet to get a response back from Regulus. "So wonderful."
"Were you expecting to get it first?" Greengrass asked lightly. She had not been very invested in the scene, preferring to work on her own Patronus rather than gawk at Regulus's like everyone else.
"No," Grace said stoutly, because she hadn't. (Regulus usually got the hang of more complex spellwork before she did, but that was only because he devoted more time to it than she ever cared to.) She had expected to see Regulus's Patronus first.
She had expected to see it late into the night, because Regulus would have refused to go to sleep until he mastered the spell. She had expected it to be cast for her eyes and her eyes only, because she would be the only one willing to stay up with him in the common room on a Friday night working on homework, of all things. And if they had not been together, if he had gone off on his own to work on the spell, then she expected him to come to her in a flurry, in a mess of excitement, and show her.
And the more she thought of this expectation of hers, the more foolish she felt for it. Why had she ever thought that would happen? She had seen his Patronus like every other person in this classroom. She was just another passerby to him now, another face in the crowd.
But why?
Greengrass waved her wand through the air again, and a mesh of silver flew from the tip of it. Her Patronus was a tangle of light; Grace could just make out the slender tilt of a beak and a long neck.
"Oh," Greengrass said when her concentration broke and the sliver of her Patronus vanished, "Was that a bird?"
Grace shrugged. "Could be some sort of insect—with pincers and stuff. You always struck me as a scarab, Greengrass."
"You know, Potter," Greengrass began lightly, waving her wand once more, "maybe you'd have better luck producing a Patronus if you devoted less brainpower to coming up with bad jokes and more towards casting the spell."
Grace rolled her eyes, but lifted her wand all the same. Just as she swung the tip of her wand, she felt a familiar lightheadedness creep over her. An ache flashed through her temples like lightning.
Grace's wand arm fell slack against her side.
"Oh, right," she said weakly.
In the chaos and confusion of the Hogsmeade Horror, she had missed her nightly dose of Clear-Head Concoction.
Sound came before sight.
Grace stirred under the many linen sheets of her cot at the Hospital Wing, but she couldn't force her eyes open. Her mind rung from the force of her paroxysm, and she ached for it to quiet down for a moment, just a moment. She kept herself still, trying to battle away the lingering pangs of pain.
"—I just don't think we should overwhelm her, you know?"
"But if not now, when? We should have told her days ago, but you wanted to put it off then, too."
"That wasn't my idea! Mum didn't want to worry her. Stress only triggers more episodes."
"Well can you imagine how stressed and paranoid she'll be when she finds we've been keeping this from her for however long we have been?"
"I know, I know…but how can I tell her now?"
"James…"
"I don't know. I'm just worried is all. She had an episode early in the summer. With the Clear-Head, she shouldn't have gotten one so soon. What if she's building up some sort of immunity to it? Can that happen?"
"Well…it's dangerous to consume too many potions, of course. But the ingredients of Clear-Head aren't physically altering. I don't think it's possible to build resistance to it…but it's still a relatively new potion on the market."
A heavy sigh followed. "It's just one more year here. I figure when she's out of Hogwarts, it'll get better, yeah? There won't be so much magical energy."
"I hope so."
A brief spat of silence followed, but it was quickly cut through by the same weary voice: "Merlin—I just wish this blasted cat would leave. She shouldn't be having pets around her."
"Oh, you're right. Maybe you can move it over to the other bed?"
Grace felt the foot of her bed rise, but only for a brief moment. A low growl was heard, followed by a shriek. The weight at the end of her bed returned.
"Fucking—! What sort of cat is this?"
"Why did you grab it like that?"
"I barely touched it, Lily! Merlin…she's gone and adopted a killer cat."
"I don't think it's hers. I've seen that cat in the library now and again."
"Don't tell me it's one of Filch's—"
The voice faltered as a low creak emanated through the large wing. Grace strained her ears, trying to discern who might have entered or left.
"What was that?"
"I dunno. I don't see anything. It was probably just Peeves roaming by…?"
"Merlin, I never realized how creepy this place was. Can you imagine spending the night here?"
"Yeah, I can actually, because that's what we've been doing for the past five hours."
"Right…"
"So?"
"So what?"
"So are you going to tell Grace when she wakes up?"
"Lily…it's not a good time."
"It never will be. And the sooner she knows, the better. I know it'll be a difficult conversation, but she needs to know. You know we won't have another chance to talk to her like now. We'll be starting up patrols this weekend."
A groan followed. "Agh—don't remind me. I'm partnered with Prewett. Can you believe that?"
"Which one?"
"The one that keeps replacing my real wand with a joke wand and then ambushes me while I'm heading back from the loo."
Quiet laughter filled the air.
"Lily!"
"Sorry—it's not nice…but…"
"But what?"
"It's probably karma for all the pranks you pulled in Hogwarts."
"My pranks were harmless!"
"Harmless? Do you remember the Spring Ball incident?"
"That was Sirius's idea, not mine—"
"Yeah, sure—"
"I'm serious!"
A pause followed, and then: "You're Sirius? I thought you were James!"
"Lily!"
Grace finally found the willpower to pry her lids open. She blinked against the cool dark. The stone walls and long curtains were encased in shadows. She tilted her head to the side, and saw a put-out James sitting across from a smiling Lily.
"Could you guys keep it down?" she croaked out, wincing as a particularly painful throb flashed through her head.
"Gracie," James said in surprise, and scooted his chair closer to her bedside. "One day and twenty hours—not bad. I'd say it's a new record."
"I've barely been conscious for thirty seconds, and you've already said something dumb. That's a record for you, too," she groaned.
"How are you feeling?" Lily asked softly. "Shall we fetch Pomfrey for some draughts?"
"No—I'm fine." Her eyes settled on James. In truth, she did want a draught. But she wanted to find out what James was keeping from her more. "So…?"
"So?" James said, dumbfounded.
"So…?" she repeated with more emphasis.
"So—" Lily began, "—any idea what might have caused this episode?"
Grace sighed. "I just skipped a dose of Clear-Head by accident. Don't worry—Pomfrey already gave me hell for it."
At the foot of her bed, a lazing Cliodna perked up. She trotted up the bed and plopped herself onto Grace's lap. Grace raised a hand and ran it over the cat's deep black fur. Cliodna let out a low purr of content.
James moved his chair slightly back, eyeing the cat suspiciously. "Er—so that thing's docile, then?"
"What? Of course she is. It's Cliodna."
"Oh," Lily said in recognition. "Sirius's brother's cat?"
"Yeah," Grace said flatly. "Regulus's cat."
"Why isn't it with him?" James asked.
Grace's gaze fled from him and settled on Cliodna's huddled form. She wasn't about to tell him all that'd been going on these past few weeks, not if he was planning on hiding something from her, too. Besides—what would she say? That Regulus abandoned her and his cat for seemingly no reason whatsoever? James would only extrapolate the worst.
"I dunno," she shrugged. "Maybe Cliodna likes me better."
James rubbed at his hand, where a thin set of scratches lay across his palm. "Didn't like me very much…" he muttered.
"Why would she like someone as dunderheaded as you?"
He stared at her, unimpressed, and began to rise. "Well—looks like you're right as rain, if you're throwing around insults like that—"
Grace rolled her eyes. "Hey—before you leave, do you mind telling me where Mum and Dad are?"
He froze.
"Told you," Lily sang quietly.
James floundered for a moment and settled back into his chair. "Er—they're a bit busy."
Grace shared a look with Lily. "With what? It must be well past midnight."
"Oh—you know—" he scratched the back of his neck, "—they're sleeping."
"Sleeping," she repeated dryly. "You expect me to believe that Mum and Dad—who once cancelled a meeting with the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic because I had an episode—didn't come tonight because they're too busy…sleeping?"
"You know how it is with the elderly. Early to bed, early to rise—"
"James," Grace interjected tiredly. "Come on—what is it? If they're actually busy, I get it. I won't be annoyed."
He swallowed thickly. "No—it's not that…it's just… Look, you have to realize that Lily and I only came back five days ago. And it's been something of a whirlwind these past few days—between Auror training and moving into our own flat, we've barely had a moment—"
"James," she said again.
He took a deep breath. "Dad's in St. Mungo's."
Her brows shot up. "Sorry—what?!"
"Dad is—"
"—in St. Mungo's?" She was already scrambling up from her cot. Cliodna whined in annoyance from being displaced. "What do you mean by that? What happened? Oh, Merlin—did he trip over that loose cobblestone in front of Batty Bathilda's? I told her to fix it—"
"Calm down," Lily said, easing Grace back down. "It's nothing serious. The Healers aren't entirely sure on the diagnosis yet, because your dad's been giving himself a draught he made to make himself better and it's been interfering with his symptoms. Right now, we think he might have picked up a Muggle illness—pneumonia, maybe."
"New-ammonia?"
"Pneumonia," James corrected smartly.
Grace glared at him. "How long have you known this for? How long has he been in there? How come none of you owled me? Can I go visit? Is Mum with him? How come you aren't with him?"
"It's only been a few days," James said weakly.
"We have been busy," Lily said in his defense. "Between James's training and flat hunting, along with helping some of our friends into hiding—it's been a rough week, Grace. Your mum didn't want to worry you until James and I got back, so she asked we keep it to ourselves. We're sorry about that, but it does us no good to focus on what we can't change."
Grace knew that, but it still stung. How could James keep this from her for five whole days? How could he have let her frolic about Hogwarts worrying about Regulus and Sophia instead of her own father? What sort of familial loyalty was this?
"You should have told me," she said thickly.
James struggled with something for a moment. "Well—Sirius and I both thought—"
Grace's expression curdled in an instant. "Of course Sirius would think this was the best course of action. It wasn't like he gave Regulus a heads up when he walked out on him."
James's lips thinned. "We're not talking about them. We're talking about you, alright? Your Healers have made it explicitly clear that jarring news isn't good for your condition, and with your tendency to get worked up over the smallest of things—"
"Yeah, because hearing that my brother decided to keep my own dad's hospitalization a secret from me for nearly a week isn't jarring news, is it?"
"We were only trying to look out for you."
"I don't need you to do that. I can look out for myself. I'm not a child, James."
"Yeah? Then stop acting like one."
"James," Lily said disapprovingly.
He deflated and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. His gaze wavered away from Grace's for a moment. "Look—things aren't dire, alright? It's just a…rather persistent case of the flu. We didn't want you worry over nothing."
"It's not nothing," Grace told him harshly. "It's Dad."
"I know that. And if things were really bad, you'd know," James promised. "You'd be the first person I'd tell. But it's fine. Everything is under control."
He held her eyes for a moment—soft hazel against hazel, shining sun against sun—and Grace found she was too worn to hold onto her fury. She had only just woken from her paroxysm. Her bones ached tremendously; her temples throbbed furiously. She wanted to rest. She wanted to forgive James without forgiving him. She wanted her parents here—Mum with her patient eyes and Dad with his tender smile.
"You'll tell me if anything else happens?" she pressed.
"Yes. Of course."
"Okay," she said, and sunk deeper into her cot.
James rose. "I'll fetch a draught from Pomfrey. We've got work in the morning, so we won't be there when you wake, but we can come back in the evening."
"Don't bother," Grace said. "You should be with Mum and Dad—make sure they're okay."
James's expression crumpled. "You're sure?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't mean to keep it from you for so long. There just wasn't a good time—"
"Can you get Pomfrey?" Grace cut in. She collapsed against her pillow, shutting her eyes. Her mind raged like a storm. She wanted to sleep, to dream away the pain. "I'm really tired."
"Yeah…"
Pomfrey arrived in record time. After she administered a fresh batch of draught, James and Lily said their goodbyes and left. Grace settled deep into her blanket, eyes flickering to a close. The dull ache in her temples drifted away, and a cloudiness overcame her senses.
Soon, she was enveloped by sleep. Her dreams were dotted with strange visions—green snakes morphing into greener skulls, daggers of dark flitting through stormy skies, and her own face, shadowed and world-weary, staring back at her in the glossy reflection of black stone. She dreamt of animals she had never seen—horse-like creatures with large, eerie eyes and spindly ridges traveling down their backs—a barrage of silver-lined masks, and a lake too murky and grey to see through.
Eventually, all things collapsed into shadow and dust.
She awoke, again, to whispers, but these were less urgent. The voice that spoke was calm, patient—and perhaps just a touch absentminded. It was a voice that swayed against Grace's ear like an ocean lapping against the shore. It was a voice that she was familiar with, that she had heard dither and scold and rant enthusiastically about all it loved.
It was Regulus.
"—and as the sun set over the horizon, washing all in gold, the Mage turned to his companion and said, 'Do you see what I've done over there?' The companion looked at the plot of freshly-turned soil. 'What have you done?' he asked. 'I've planted a new miracle…'"
The words were touched with such wist and want that Grace found herself shrinking deeper into her cot. Her stomach churned. She had wanted Regulus to come back, but it felt all different now, knowing that he had left her behind these past few weeks. Did he think if he just sat at her bedside and read The Miraculous Mage to her that things would just return to normal? Did he think this was enough for her to forgive him?
Was it enough for her to forgive him?
Grace wanted things to return to normal, but this wasn't how it was going to happen. She wanted more than some bedside reading. She wanted the person behind the act. She wanted the old Regulus; she wanted the bright look in his eye when he learned a new rune and the frustrated groan he made when Gamp accompanied them for dinner and the ridiculously complex plans he drew up when she needed help with a plan and—and—
She wanted the reading, too. But it was more than that. It was the voice—how soft it was, how gentle, how unfailing in its tenderness.
She missed him so much.
She cracked her eyes open slightly, and saw that Regulus had sat himself in the chair James did last night. His face was slightly eclipsed by the copy of the book he was reading from, but Grace could still make out the feathery curl of his dark hair and the hollow of his cheek.
Her heart was battering against its cage. What was she supposed to say? Should she even say anything? What if she just pretended to stay asleep until he left?
This is ridiculous, she thought dimly. I've been waiting and waiting to talk to him, and now I can't find anything to say.
She searched a little while longer for a way to break the ice. A simple hey wouldn't do it. She wanted to strike him to his core. She wanted him to speak first. She wanted him to want her, too.
Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long for Regulus to acknowledge her, because only a few seconds later, Cliodna leapt from the foot of Grace's bed and towards Regulus. Her claws caught onto Regulus's sleeve, causing him to drop his book onto the floor.
"Agh—Clio—!"
Grace propped herself up and looked down at the scene. Regulus was picking an irritated Cliodna off himself.
"Good girl," Grace said appreciatively.
Cliodna purred deeply in response, and sprang back towards Grace. Regulus locked eyes with Grace for a moment before hastily looking away.
"Er—hello," he began.
"Hi."
He continued to stare holes into the linen of Grace's sheet while Grace glared defiantly at his profile.
Regulus swallowed after a moment. "So—"
At the same time, Grace began, "What—"
They both stopped.
"Er—no, you go first," Regulus offered.
"No, I want to hear what you have to say."
"Oh—er—well…"
"Well?"
He opened his mouth once more, but before he could say anything, a voice pierced through the room: "Grace! There you are!" A copper-and-blue blur raced into the Hospital Wing at breakneck speed.
Oh, Merlin, Grace lamented quietly, what did I ever do to deserve this?
"Grace," Sophia panted, coming to her side. "I knew something was off when you didn't show at meals. I tried to ask Slughorn, but he doesn't like me very much because of the Moaning Myrtle situation, so he didn't tell me anything. But then I started asking around, and I heard you've got some sort of—er—disease—"
Grace soured.
"Condition," Regulus corrected automatically.
Grace glanced at him sharply.
He withered under her gaze. "Er—I mean—"
Sophia looked to him and her eyes narrowed in on the badge pinned to his chest. "Oh, you're the Prefect friend!" she exclaimed. She bounded over to Regulus and proceeded to force her hand into his, shaking it enthusiastically. "Hello, I'm Sophia Hornby. Grace told me you could take some points from Gryffindor. On the train ride here, Golightly—he's a Gryffindor in my year and spends his spare time being a prat—anyway, he shot a curse at me that made antlers—" she stuck two fingers up by her head, imitating said antlers, "—spurt from my head, and it was very rude of him—"
"Wha—hold on—" he looked to Grace weakly.
"I sort of promised her that you'd take fifty points from Gryffindor, because these three boys were harassing her."
"Why didn't you report them to someone?" Regulus said immediately.
"What do you think I'm doing right now?" Grace said indignantly. "You're a Prefect. I'm reporting it to you!"
"I meant when you were still on the train."
"What does that matter?"
"Well, how can I take points a full two and a half weeks after the incident? It won't make sense."
"Yes, it does," Grace insisted. "It makes perfect sense to me. You found out about this situation a bit late, so of course the points would be taken away a bit late."
"I didn't see this all unfold—"
"Yeah, but I did—"
"But you're not a Prefect!"
Grace's lips set into a deep frown. "So? What's that got to do with anything? Just because I'm not a Prefect, you don't trust what I've got to say?"
Regulus's shoulders fell. "You know that's not what I meant—"
"Oh, you mean you don't trust me in general?" Her voice was biting, challenging.
Regulus refused to rise to the bait. "You can't just leap from point A to point Z like that, Grace! Of course that doesn't mean I don't trust you. But, really now, if I suddenly take fifty points from Gryffindor, there'll be a whole inquiry—"
"So just tell them what happened! They'll only find out the truth."
"Well, your version of the truth. Don't you think those three boys will make up their own reasons?"
"So what? We should still try, shouldn't we?"
"It's just that…if there wasn't a Prefect informed immediately, they'll wonder why you've kept it to yourself all this while and if you were trying to hide something."
"I've just been busy!"
"Busy?" he repeated dryly.
"Yeah," she spat, narrowing her eyes at him. "Busy trying to figure out why you've been so busy you can't even be bothered to look my way anymore."
His lips snapped shut.
"Er—are you two fighting?" Sophia asked nervously.
"What?" Regulus said, turning to her. "No, of course not."
At the same time, Grace whipped to the young Ravenclaw and said, "We're not fighting."
They both stopped and looked at one another, and the ire in Grace died down quickly. Regulus's eyes were circled with deep purple bags, and his brows were drawn together wearily. She wasn't mad at him, and she didn't want to fight. She just wanted an apology. She just wanted to understand.
"Sophia," Grace began, rubbing her hand across her forehead, "would you mind stopping by later?"
"Later?" the young girl echoed. "But I just got here. And what about the fifty points?"
"Fifty points from Gryffindor," Regulus said immediately. He was still looking at Grace. "Of course I believe you."
This time, it was Grace who couldn't bear to hold his gaze. She looked away, focusing instead on Cliodna, who was lolling about at the foot of Grace's bed.
"Thank you!" Sophia exclaimed immediately. "That's incredible! I can't wait to see Golightly and Preston's faces during lunch—"
"Er—you're welcome," Regulus cut in. "Would you mind just leaving for a little while, though? Grace really does need to rest. Why don't you come back in the evening?"
Sophia looked at him suspiciously before glancing back at Grace.
Go, Grace mouthed to her sternly.
"Okay," Sophia agreed, "but can I bring Cluedo to play with you in the evening?"
Grace sighed, "You can bring Filch in the evening if you go right now."
She made a face. "No, I'm definitely not doing that."
With that, the Ravenclaw turned around and bounded away. Grace and Regulus followed her receding form until it disappeared from sight. Slowly, they turned back to one another.
Grace caught the silver of his eyes, and her heart twisted.
Underneath the skim that was her bitterness lay a deep and terrible want. She didn't want to want him anymore, but she did. She wanted things to return to normal. She wished desperately for it: James and his infectious cheer back at Hogwarts, Lily tutoring her in the annals of the library, and Regulus by her side. She wanted Regulus, with his ever quiet, ever gentle voice, to tell her how much he'd missed her—just as much as she missed him, perhaps more. She wanted him to tell her he'd only gotten into a spat of trouble, that he'd sorted it now, that he was hers again. She wanted all this, and more. It burned within her, this desire, this reach for balance in the world. Why couldn't things simply stay put? Why couldn't she and Regulus remain in first year, when the days were bright and young, when there was no war, when Sirius had not left and cracked Regulus's heart wide and deep, when Grace was not so fed up with it all?
"Why are you here?" she asked. In the cavernous room that was the Hospital Wing, in the deep and vast silence between her and Regulus, her voice seemed enormous.
"I was worried," he said in that damned soft voice of his that made her heart lift despite itself. "When you didn't come to dinner after Defense that day, I checked the kitchens, and—"
"So now you care about me, is it?"
He swallowed his words, and his eyes dropped from hers. She wished he hadn't done that. She wanted his eyes on her. She wanted him to see her. Just once more, please. Look at me.
"Things are complicated right now," he said after a moment.
"Doesn't seem very complicated to me," she said immediately. "Seems to me like you had some sort of epiphany over the summer, realized I was a drag or something, and promptly fucked off to find some new friends." She spat the last word out. It sounded wrong in her mouth—calling Yaxley and Rosier friends.
It sounded wrong to Regulus, too. She knew it, because he winced at her wording. "I—I'm sorry, but it's just…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say, unsure of where to look, what to do. His eyes glanced amongst the tiles, traced the linen edge of Grace's sheets, but never quite reached Grace herself. He wrung his hands, fingers tapping, restless.
"Why are you here?" Grace asked again. "You don't want to see me."
His eyes snapped to hers, and she had to swallow her heart down somewhere deep. His grey eyes shone in the hazy light of the wing. His brows were drawn tight. He looked at her like he couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth.
"I was worried," he said again.
"You're always worried," she pointed out miserably.
"Then you shouldn't be so surprised."
Her brows rose. Regulus didn't waver from her gaze this time, and she felt this was rather Gryffindor of him—to pretend everything was fine when it so clearly wasn't, to shoulder whatever it was he was burdened with all by himself, to stick with the lie no matter how terrible it was.
Something had happened, and it was serious. She was sure of this now. And no matter how distant Regulus had been, how neglectful and callous he had seemed these past few weeks, she still trusted him. More than that, she wanted to trust him. She wanted the explanation, the twist, the happy ending. I was only mean to fool them. I was only gone to protect you. She burned for those words.
But Grace was not one to just sit and yearn. She reached for the things she wanted. She'd catapult herself into the air if it meant getting back the Regulus she knew.
"Reg…" she began, "…can't you just tell me what's going—"
The doors to the Hospital Wing swung open, and Regulus nearly tipped over his own chair in his haste to to see who had entered. Grace peered past Regulus's frame and was surprised to see a very irritated Greengrass making her way into the Hospital Wing with no less than four textbooks and a dozen scrolls teetering in her arms.
"Er—" Grace started, gobsmacked.
"Yeah, it's me," Greengrass grumbled, thrusting the materials onto the foot of Grace's bed. Cliodna yelped and ducked underneath the cot. "Slughorn's assigned me to help you catch up on what you've missed since that redhead who used to help you graduated last year. He said he'd arrange something separately for Potions, since—"
"Yeah, okay, sure," Grace said hurriedly, looking back to Regulus. He was staring at Greengrass as though she were a banshee. "Do you mind coming back later? I'm sort of in the middle—"
"Later?" Greengrass sniffed. "It took me hours to prepare all this—"
Regulus coughed suddenly and picked up his knapsack. "No—er—it's fine. I was leaving anyway. I was just looking for Pomfrey is all," he told Greengrass briskly, even though she had not asked. He began to make his way out of the Hospital Wing. "I suppose she's busy. I'll just pop by later."
With that, he slunk beyond the doors and disappeared from sight. Grace gaped after him, mind ringing. What the bloody hell was that? He'd come all this way and stayed to read his blasted book so early in the morning only to leave just because Greengrass had stopped by? Not even Sophia, forward and presumptuous as she was, had put him off!
Greengrass glanced back at Grace coolly. Her eyes swept over Regulus's empty chair before narrowing in on a sulking Cliodna. "I see you've gotten custody of the cat," she said dryly.
"What?"
"Nevermind." She began to sift through the piles of lecture notes and homework. "Luckily, we don't have homework for Defense. We're meant to keep practicing the Patronus charm, but seeing as only a couple of people have gotten the hang of it—"
"Did you have to come in now?" Grace cut in crossly.
Greengrass's brows rose ever so slightly. "Pardon?"
"I was finally getting through to him!" Grace groaned. She fell against her pillows and peered up at faint cracks that ran through the stone ceiling. "I've been waiting and waiting for a chance to talk to him, and I finally get it—and you choose just that moment to barge in? Really?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry my assistance is such an inconvenience to you." Greengrass's nostrils flared in fury. "This is so typical—when a boy pays you even the slightest bit of attention, it's suddenly the only thing that matters—"
Grace gaped at her. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? I've been worried about Regulus for weeks. Of course this matters. It certainly matters more than—" she glanced over the pile of work that Greengrass had painstakingly arranged for her, "—learning the knitting charm!"
"Worried for weeks?" Greengrass repeated. "I—are you really this daft?"
"Here we go with the insults," Grace muttered. "Can't you attack something other than my intelligence for once?"
"Yeah, I can actually—are you blind?" Greengrass spat. "Or are you so moonstruck that you refuse to see?"
Grace ground her teeth. "Why don't you edify me with some of your infinite wisdom, Greengrass?"
"Stop it," she snapped. "You must know."
"Sweet Circe—could you quit doing that?" Grace cried out. "You always act like you're better than the rest, like you expect us to get on your level instead of coming down to ours. Can't you just tell me for once?" Grace let out a staggered breath. "Do you know what's happened? Do you know why Regulus has been hanging around Rosier and Yaxley so much?"
"It's for the same reason Divination's been cancelled this year," Greengrass said tightly. "It's for the same reason Lila left."
Grace's brows furrowed. "What do you m—"
"There's a war going on, Potter!" Greengrass's pale eyes were wide, her lips curled into a bitter grimace. "I knew you were spoiled, but I never thought you'd be so self-invested you wouldn't notice that there's a war happening."
Grace ignored the jab, if only because there was a matter more urgent to reach. She could put down her pride for a moment, just a moment. "But what has that got to do with Regulus?"
"He's chosen his side."
Grace felt like she'd been struck by a whip. Chosen his side? As in the same side as the Rosiers and Yaxleys? As in the side of the blood purists?
"I don't believe you," Grace said immediately, because that was impossible. Because Regulus had met Lily Evans and Dirk Cresswell, and he had never been bothered by them. Because Regulus had always looked up to Sirius, no matter how fraught their relationship had grown to be. Because she knew Regulus; he did not have it in him to hate.
"Then don't," Greengrass said icily. She was already stalking away. "I only came to drop off your work, not get involved in a debate."
The doors thudded to a close behind her. The Hospital Wing seemed to grow infinitely more empty. Grace felt like a speck in the center of a vast and unfeeling universe. Her eyes skittered all over the room before landing on the space Regulus had occupied by her bedside.
On the ground was the book Regulus had been reading—the copy of The Miraculous Mage she had gifted him for his birthday back in first year. It was worn and well-loved, with pages dog-eared and bookmarked.
He had left it behind, just like he did her.
A/N : hope you enjoyed this one! lots of things are going to come together & fall apart in the next chapter so be prepared… as always, thanks for the follows, faves, and reviews!
TheGoodeRavenclaw : Your review was so heartwarming to read! I'm so glad you've been enjoying my stories :)
Guest : Thank you so much! :)
bookdragonslayer : Ah, thank you! I was sort of struggling with ending the last chapter, so I'm glad you liked it!
QueenAnarchy2.0 : As always, thank you for the wonderful and thoughtful review! Your reviews really do make my day. :) I'm glad you're liking all the new characters (this story's chockfull of them). Your theory is completely correct. In my head, the events sort of played out like this: Death Eaters were swinging Muggles/Muggle-borns from the sky, the Aurors showed up, and the Death Eaters just dipped, so whoever was in the sky just fell. :( Not sure how old little Harris was, actually! I'd imagine he was only a few years younger than Sophia, though. Ahhh, the Cushioning Charm… ;) We will definitely be learning more about Greengrass! Greengrass is generally in a bad mood/alone all the time because Colvin (who she's nearly always with in Flying) and her family have gone into hiding, so she doesn't really have anyone in Hogwarts. I'm very excited to explore her character in the coming chapters. Love your random questions! Grace doesn't know James is an Animagus at all (there's a throwaway line in the first chapter where Lily makes a deer pun during her vows, but Grace doesn't get it), so James has never taught her and she isn't one. As for Grace's graduated friends, we'll be finding out what's been going on with most of them soon. (Except I'm not sure how heavily the Tonks family will feature in this one; they've gone into hiding because of Bellatrix, something that Grace is aware of.)