Chapter 46: To Unbelong
Unedited...
Dumbledore tiredly wiped his half-moon glasses on his robes before wearing it back as he tried to drown out the frenzied chatter that ensued in his office presently. The past several days had been rather hectic for the old wizard, but the recent report that Phineas Black had brought to him from Grimmauld Place (which, the former Headmaster, conveniently decided to make an announcement of right here in front of all the portraits, ruffling up every last one of them) had thrown him into a state of complete disarray.
Sitting back, he closed his eyes and tried to remember the young, handsome face of Tom Riddle back when he was a student here at Hogwarts — would he have known then, that the bright, Slytherin boy would rise up to become of the greatest Dark Lords to ever exist, let alone become one of Dumbledore's direct nemeses of all time? — maybe. An inkling, yes, but to this level? — perhaps not. More importantly, though, would he have ever guessed that the orphaned boy would live out his lineage's legacy and rise up to the same stature as even Salazar Slytherin? — not in the slightest.
How does that make him the greatest wizard of all time then? What sets him apart from the rest of the magical community, when all he knew about the future was just about how much anyone else could possibly known themselves...? But that was not the worst part. The worst part of being in his position and drawing the respect of scores and scores of other warlocks is that, he did not, in the slightest, expect to be faced with a monster book of secrets and revelations about the Sacred Age and its connections to everything that is wrong with the magical world today.
"Phineas," Dumbledore called, his voice barely carrying over the sheer madness that continued to thrive around him. It seemed every former Headmaster of the school was keen to add in their two Knuts on the situation.
"Don't be swayed by these subtle nuances, Dumbledore!"
"Snip it, Dippet! We do not need another reckless Headmaster, no sir!"
"Are you daft enough to suggest that we turn a blind eye to the past when we KNOW it is the key to our future?"
"A THOUSAND CURSES NEVER TORE A ROBE!"
"Fallacies! Madness!"
"Phineas!" Dumbledore called out more loudly this time, shutting up the portraits around him at once.
Everyone craned their necks out of their portraits or tried to run into their neighbour's frames to get a better look at the smug face of Phineas who was now smirking contently in Dumbledore's direction.
"I will need more details on the matter, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore, quietly joining the tips of his fingers in front of him, waiting for Phineas.
"I have given you everything —"
"— Hardly, all you said a moment ago was 'The Seventh Knight's life is in danger if he chose the Curse'. That doesn't say anything, I'm afraid," Dumbledore stated plainly, which in reality, was not entirely true. He knew exactly what that meant, but decided to reserve feeling dismayed for after he had more information straight from the Flobberworm's mouth.
Phineas hesitated for a second. "Well, too bad then. As a member of the Black family, I am at liberty to only oblige so much —"
"Delinquency! Insubordination, sir!" Dilys Derwent screamed from her portrait, but Dumbledore merely held up his hand and she quietened down at once.
"Forgive me for pointing it out to you in this fashion, old friend, however you are but a portrait. And, as Dilys so precisely pointed out, you are stationed here in my office under oath that you shall serve me and all of my successors in any way we deem fit. And going by how I am, quite uncharacteristically, not in the mood to entertain your tantrums, Phineas, I insist that you divulge all that you know on the matter," he said, his voice boomed through the deathly stillness in the room, leaving an echo in its trail.
Phineas stared on dumfoundedly at the old wizard, but eventually seemed to give in, as he slumped against his frame rolling his eyes long and wide. Dumbledore smirked internally and leaned back in patient anticipation.
"Alright!" Phineas scoffed, straightening out his robes to physically display his displeasure on the matter. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"Perhaps start with what the mighty Centauress had to say about the rise of the heir. You said Walburga sought out Queen Naerania herself to confirm something a while ago?"
Phineas initially looked like he was made to swallow a porcupine alive, because the consternation on his face was palpable. "You mean the filthy half-breed. There aren't any queens amongst Cantaurs, Dumbledore, please," he scoffed arrogantly, but when Dumbledore raised a reproachful eyebrow in Phineas's direction, the former Headmaster doubled back timidly. "I mean, from what the little elf in the house tells me, I just know that the lowly half-breed merely announced the advent of dark times as a new Dark Lord, the heir of Slytherin, takes over the magical world. She also declared that a Slytherin is and forever the true autarch of our realm for centuries to come."
The portraits in the room all gave a collective, dramatic gasp, one that seemed to make Phineas's handle-bar moustache stand up straighter with pride. So, It was official — the rise of Voldemort as the new Dark Lord, the true Slytherin heir, was inevitable, whether Dumbledore liked it or not. And although the old wizard had already internalised this inescapable fact, something about what the Centauress said still irked him slightly... She always attributed to the rise of Dark times to 'a Slytherin heir' and never called out Voldemort by name. Because Dumbledore knew, anyone belonging to the Centaur clan, especially, seemed to have no qualms calling Voldemort out by his name and cursing in his wake for the sheer atrocities that the Death Eaters have doled out on the half-breeds. So, why then, would she refrain from speaking out plainly about the future? Unless she might be referring to someone else, perhaps...?
"Not like you didn't know any of that already now, Dumbledore?" Phineas's voice shook him awake, his voice laden with disdain and mockery of the old wizard, but Dumbledore smiled on, faltering just a bit.
"Thank you, Phineas, that truly was summarised beautifully," Dumbledore countered, with equal force of sarcasm in his own tone. "And now we come to the matter of dear Walburga's encounter with the One-Eyed Witch. I gather that the witch has presented some kind of warning to both Mrs. Black and the late Mrs. Williams?" he asked, watching Phineas's facial expression darken instantly.
"How do you know about that?" Phineas snapped crossly.
"Who else could have told you about the Curse?" Dumbledore retorted. "No one in our realm, not even I, understand the workings of the Curse all that well, so it had to be someone from a time entirely different to ours..." he said, looking piercingly in Phineas's direction.
"Go on! Stop gawking and spill the beans already!" came the screechy voice of old Phyllida Spore, who was half way through knitting her scarf in her frame. "We haven't all got all day, you know?"
Leaning against his frame yet again whilst displaying obvious resentment at being cornered this way, Phineas opened his mouth. "Alright, I only know this because I once heard her mumble in her sleep one day while I was at Grimmauld Place, chatting away with Elladora. She kept saying, 'Not Sirius, not Sirius!' Puzzled, I had asked Elladora what was going on.
"Apparently, it was a couple of years ago when Walburga had had her first encounter with the One-Eyed Witch. She had just mildly Crucio'd! Sirius for back answering her about his closeness with that filthy Mudblood neighbour of theirs and sent him up to his room when she had come face to face with the old witch."
Dumbledore sat up straighter in his seat, tension building up inside him.
"Apparently," Phineas continued, "the witch had spoken to her as if she had known Walburga all her life. Elladora said she overheard the witch designating Sirius as the Seventh Knight of this realm. That was the day she announced that he was One Half of the Cursed Pair. Remember the day when I had instructed you to seek this book out called 'The Rise Fall of the Sacred Age'?"
Dumbledore nodded, recalling how cryptic Phineas had sounded that day when he had appeared out of nowhere in his portrait and had said to Dumbledore that something important was happening in the Magical world now, that everything the old wizard ever needed to know would be detailed out in that ancient book. But Dumbledore being as clairvoyant as always, had immediately put two and two together and realised that the distant, direct descendent of the Rotdels who may be embroiled in this phenomenon could be Sirius... Except the boy was too caught up being the silly teenager that he was, that Dumbledore needed someone else more responsible, more grounded to have this information — Isabella Williams. Besides, the old wizard also had a hunch that Isabella might be Sirius's other half anyway, so it was like hitting two birds with one stone.
"The Black blood is cursed, Dumbledore," Phineas's voice cut through his thoughts, shaking him awake yet again. "And Sirius carries that curse."
"Detail out the implications of the Curse, Phineas," Dumbledore commanded.
Phineas made a face as if he couldn't believe Dumbledore had not figured this out as yet. "It's obvious, isn't it? The Curse unleashes uponst us all once more if he were to reunite with his Pair... Which is obviously another reason why Walburga wanted Sirius to stay away from the Mudblood, because it is as clear as daylight how enthralled he is by her," Phineas trailed away, folding his hands and watching the colour drain away from Dumbledore's face. "Them coming together is the worst thing that could happen to the magical world right now, because you know how twisted Mávros was. He was a maniac. The Magical world as we know it could get wiped out entirely if that were to happen."
Dumbledore's heart clenched tightly, as he leaned back against his chair, breathing deeply, trying his best to calm his fired up mind. His worst fear has been realised. He had guessed as much, but he had not wanted to torment himself with thoughts of doom until it was coming from a solid source. Was there a more reliable source to confirm his suspicions of the Curse than Mother Medea herself? He thought not.
Everything was becoming clear now. As the Seventh Knight, Sirius would, at some point, be presented with a decision, one that might either unite him with his Pair, another, where he unites with a common witch. While the former unleashes hell upon them all, the latter is the one that finally breaks Slytherin's Curse on his blood forever and protect the Magical realm for all time. In other words, the chain of events that may follow if Sirius united with someone other than his Pair would, undoubtedly, deter Voldemort from getting stronger and taking over the Magical world.
He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, feeling despondence take over him entirely. Sirius, literally, was Isabella's saving grace, a semblance of happiness, her heart's true prayer, but life was never kind to anyone, was it? Sighing out raggedly, he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible.
"And what would happen if he did unite with his Pair?" he asked. In all honesty, he had no idea why he even so desperately needed someone to verbalise his worst fears, because he knew exactly what it meant if the Pair did unite. "Ancient curses always carried with them a fatal consequence if it were to not materialise, do they not...?'
But Phineas did not say anything and simply crossed his hands across his chest, communicating a thousand messages merely through that gesture.
Dumbledore nodded resignedly, brimming with grief.
~oO 'Grew Cottage, Landers Down
Every limb in her body seemed to break and crush unto themselves as she got sucked down a giant drain, spinning at dizzying speeds. She tried to shut out the roaring in her ears because her head was throbbing and threatened to burst at anytime, but there was nothing she could do, was there? And just when she thought she was going to throw up watching blurred streams of fireplaces rush past her, she felt herself get knocked out of her skin as she came to an abrupt halt. Instinctively, she put her hands out and pressed hard against the brick walls on her sides to keep herself from falling face forwards, as she stood there, bent double and panting on the ledge of an almost run-down fireplace.
"Miss Williams!" came a sharp, female voice from the room.
Looking up, she found herself standing inside what looked like a giant bark of a tree, hollowed on the inside, with large, gothic windows carved out on the circular wooden walls nearly twelve feet from the floor. Through the broken glass in the windows, Isabella noticed several large vines, nearly twice as thick as her hand, creeping up the inner walls of the already dingy and dark room, giving the house a rather eerie look. Thin beams of sunlight streaming in through the gaps of the vines illuminated the rather stuffy, circular room that was peppered with far too many furniture items, enough to make one claustrophobic — lines of broken bookshelves stood on one end accompanied by a long chest of draws covered with rolls and rolls of parchments and quills, all standing on a moth-eaten dirty carpet that almost resembled the forest floor while half a dozen Vampyr Mosps buzzed about the corners — if this was someone's house, it screamed of indigence and neglect. And had it not been for McGonagall's voice earlier, she would have highly doubted if she had arrived at the right place at all.
This is 'Grew Cottage, Landers Down? Merlin's beard... she thought to herself, as she stepped out from the brick fireplace, dusting her shoulders off the debris that she had collected having travelled all the way from Malfoy Manor to Landers Down whilst taking in the stark contrast of affluence between the two places.
"Miss Williams, oh, there you are!" came the agitated voice of McGonagall again, as she, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, shuffled towards her from where they had been seated on the table sipping tea, looking worried and ready to blast her head off in annoyance at the same time.
Ah. Joy, Isabella scoffed internally, too fatigued to even fake back a smile to her Head of House.
"We've been awaiting your arrival for so long now. Oh, Poppy, would you mind taking a look at her at once? Oh, and, you know Mrs. Pettigrew? She has been kind enough to host us all in her residence until our return to school," McGonagall said, waving offhandedly at a cross-looking, tiny woman in her fifties, who sat curled up in her chair, and making her displeasure at meeting Isabella extremely clear.
Rolling her eyes and continuing on as if Mrs. Pettigrew did not even exist, McGonagall said, "We are to leave for Hogwarts as soon as possible, Poppy," she informed the matron curtly. "Dumbledore's just owled me, says the sooner students return to Hogwarts, the better, and I agree. We've had enough interruptions to their education this year and quite frankly, I am tired of watching these Gryffindor 'daredevils' trying their hands at heroism and failing quite miserably over and over again!" she bit out, except Isabella sensed a tinge of pride in her voice at the fact that her House, especially, has largely been responsible for the recent positive turn of events, bringing a smirk to Isabella's face.
"Well, we try, Professor," she grinned, making the old witch turn pink around her ears.
"Wisecracks. Charming!" McGonagall shook her head, trying her best to look boiling mad. "We haven't heard from Dumbledore yet, have we, Poppy?" she continued, unannouncedly grabbing Isabella's face and examining it herself, as if she could detect the state of exhaustion of the young brunette by just looking at her.
"Well, last I checked, he had shut himself off in his office, in a deep conference with the portraits," Poppy said, quickly pouring a glass of Healing tea for Isabella and shoving it into her hand.
McGonagall rolled her eyes. "What could he possibly want the portraits' opinion on at a time like this?" she muttered to herself crossly, even as Isabella examined the large, yellow bubbles that rose up from her mug and popped in the air.
"But, what are we still doing here, Professor? Where are all the Aurors? I expected the place to be teeming with Magical officials, reporters and Aurors at the least, but there hasn't been a word in today's papers about the attack," Isabella asked, sipping on her hot tea and feeling her body relax at once.
"No, there hasn't been, and why would there be any news on everything that had transpired at Elmwood Island, when Bagnold can just pass it off as a figment of several dozen students' imagination and get away with the pathetic state of defence that she is helming?" McGonagall spat out, her spectacles wobbling on the bridge of her long nose from emotion. "So, no, we weren't offered any support from the Auror force, which also surprisingly works in our favour, because it brings less attention to Hogwarts as a whole. Imagine what the Death Eaters would do if they realised a bunch of underage CHILDREN fought the lot of them and brought them to their knees?"
"But there were a couple of Death Eaters at the tower who were witnesses to what happened too, weren't they?" asked Pomfrey, expertly working on a tiny cut on Isabella's eyebrow with her wand.
"It's like what Dumbledore would say," McGonagall started, sighing under her breath, "if one does not witness it first-hand, it is never threatening enough," she said, shaking her head lightly in repressed anger. "Anyway, chop chop!" she said, suddenly getting up to her feet and beckoning at Isabella to follow suit. "Enough chit-chat, you will follow Madam Pomfrey down the corridor for your examination. And No. Monkey. Business! Understood?" she said shrilly, raising an eyebrow at a bewildered Isabella.
Like there could be anything worse than what they'd already done so far...
"But, Professor...?" Isabella sputtered, even as Pomfrey gripped her painfully by the hand and began to forcefully lead her out of the sitting room, "where are the others? Lily, and Claiborne and —
"— They're all upstairs, up to no good, I'm sure," McGonagall stated curtly.
"But," Isabella began in vain again, "I feel quite fine, Madam Pomfrey, may I please —"
"— You may not, Miss Williams," the young matron asserted and dragged her into a broom-closet-ish cloak room that stood to their left and shut the door behind them, drowning Isabella in a shroud of green light that emanated from the lone, green-candle that floated above their heads. Looking around, she realised the matron had transformed the little space into a full-fledged apothecary of vials, flasks and cauldrons of potions and draughts of every type.
An hour later, after having downed half a dozen vials of potions for fatigue and minor cuts and injuries, Pomfrey finally permitted Isabella to go upstairs and meet her friends, because the brunette could not, for the life of her, sit there and rest for one more second when she could hear voices of her classmates from the floor above.
Climbing up, she realised just how exhausted and spent to the bone she was — perhaps Pomfrey was right, she could have done with a little nap. But the closer she got to the landing of the first floor, the louder the voices got, waking her up with a sudden bout of energy.
"Your turn, Peter!" she heard Lily's voice muffled through the door. "Truth or dare?" she asked excitedly.
"Yeah, after what you put me through in the last round, I'm never trusting any of your dares, Evans!" she heard Peter guffaw, making the others roar with laughter.
They're playing Truth or Dare?! she thought to herself, excitement coursing through her body. Oh, how I hate Evans! she smirked to herself, as she dashed the last few steps up the stairs.
"Oh, don't be a loser now, Pettigrew, come on!"
Without knocking, without even thinking, Isabella shoved the door open. Everyone's head turned towards her, their laughter dying away at once at the sight of the hammered-looking brunette.
"Truth or Dare without me, HOW COULD YOU?!" Isabella yelled crossly, only to be met with a roar of surprise from the onlookers.
"IZZY!" Lily shrieked, jumping up to her feet and pouncing onto her before anyone else could even react. "Oh, thank MERLIN, you're finally here!" she yelled and flung her arms around her neck while the others jumped up to their feet behind her too, surprised out of their skins at Lily's screams.
"You LOVE doing this to me, don't you?" Claiborne barked crossly, in turn tossing her hands around both Lily and Isabella too.
"Merlin, we missed you, Izzy!"
"I swear, we were all so worried. Where have you been all this time?!"
"Ah, there she is!"
"About time!"
"You alright there, Chaser?"
"Why, hello to you too, Remus..." Isabella croaked over Lily's shoulder, high-fiving the mousy-haired boy in greeting.
"Look who's finally back!"
And before she knew it, James had unexpectedly jumped onto them too, making her get caught in an odd giant group hug of sorts.
"James! What are you doing?"
"Oh, shut up, Evans! Everything isn't always about you!"
"Have you eaten anything, Iz?"
"My, you look dreadful!"
"Lupin! Not you too?"
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Ow, Peter! My eye! And your breath stinks!"
"Take a hike, Jones!"
"What took you so long, though? We've been waiting here for ages now!"
"I... Can't breathe..."
"Oi! Let her go, we might just kill her!"
With a burst of cackle, the bunch of Lions finally let go of her, making her heave in lungfuls of air before she could look around at the beaming faces, making a warm glow flare up inside her at the sight of them.
"Merlin, am I glad to be back!" Isabella sighed, beaming at the grinning faces around her.
"Have you had anything to eat yet, Iz?" Lily asked her yet again. "Jones, do we have any food up here?"
"No, but I could go fetch some from the kitchen —"
"— No, you'll just make Mrs. 'Grew really cross! We need to sneak food in somehow —"
"— Well, the boys could use their Cloak for that, no —?"
"— Would you like that, Izzy? I could send Potter over —"
"— Would you two give her a break? I mean, by MERLIN'S HANGING LEFT BALL, y'all know how to eat one alive! Ignore them, Izzy, they've aged a hundred years in the last twenty four hours, trust me. It's like living with a bunch of eighty-year old hags blowing on a pipe! D'you want to do something fun? We could play Exploding Snap!" James yelped, grinning widely and giving Isabella a reassuring side hug only to earn a death glare from Lily.
Isabella, though, had to do everything in her power to stifle the grin that was bursting at her lips. "Why, thank you, James, but erm... perhaps later —?"
"— Ha! See? She doesn't like your suggestion too!" Lily retorted petulantly.
"Oh my god, the bickering duo are at it, again!" Remus growled, burying his face in his hands in frustration. "Might we just sit down for a little, please, give her time to breathe?" he suggested wisely, tactfully rescuing the brunette from the death grip of James and drawing her aside, while James and Lily continued to make faces at each other behind her back. "It's tough being the Star Chaser and all, I know," he grinned sarcastically, earning a cheerful nudge to the side from her.
"Says a Marauder," Isabella countered and pointedly looked around the room, her eyes searching and locking with a pair of warm, grey ones, sending a silent yet inexplicable shiver up her spine.
"Missed you tons..." Isabella said as a general statement to everyone, but secretly, she was only addressing the one person standing at the far end of the room, tall and handsome, looking straight at her, wide-eyed and a wide smile tugging at his lips, making her insides melt into a gooey mess... It took her back to the year before when she had first walked into the Changing Rooms ahead of her first match as a Chaser, when she had locked eyes with the six-footer quite like how she had today — she didn't know then that he had fancied her too at the time... She knew what that look meant now, though.
"What happened, Iz? Where'd you go? Tell us everything!" exclaimed Claiborne, sitting down on the couch and beckoning her to sit down too.
"Yeah, was it Malfoy? He Apparated the both of you someplace, didn't he? Tell us!" Remus shouted.
"Yeah, Lucius did," Isabella nodded, discretely (or so she thought) stretching her hand out to Sirius and seeing him gravitate towards her like a moth to a flame. "Wanted to show me something..." she said, feeling his hand slip into hers, sending wild shudders down her spine yet again. "There's so much to tell..."
"Did you learn something new?" asked James, as she and Sirius sat down on the couch next to Claiborne, while the others bunched around them on the floor.
"Sure. You could say that," Isabella slurred tiredly, secretly loving his closeness to her on the couch, as he wrapped both his hands around hers and held it lightly against his face, his demeanour humming with contented silence. "Apparently, history is um... repeating itself," she continued. "And well... If a similar choice is made as Irvette had some eight hundred thousand years ago, then apparently... we're all doomed..." she said, trying to stay as focussed on the people around her as possible and trying to ignore the lull that his kisses on the back of her hand were plunging her into...
Remus looked worried, almost lost in thought for a second, while James watched the pair of them curiously with his tongue in his cheek.
"What'd you mean a 'similar' choice?" Lily squeaked, her eyes curiously darting between Isabella and a blissfully lost-in-thought Sirius too.
"I've a hunch, Lil. But um... it's too early to panic, I reckon...?" she asked, looking sideways into Sirius's large, devil-may-care grey eyes, making her smirk internally.
"Oh, and there's also a prophecy," Isabella drawled, unconsciously snuggling closer into Sirius now, their shoulders pressed against each other with unnecessary force. "It's exhausting, honestly... Too many intricacies... Details..." she breathed, not even realising that her sentences were getting shorter and shorter with every secret kiss that she felt lingering on her fingers.
She also did not realise that there was nothing secret about what was going between the two of them, that they were actually being quite evidently amorous to a point that made even James feel slightly sick in the stomach.
Remus and Lily exchanged looks of mild alarm. "Well, what are we waiting for then? Let's get to work, already! Chop, chop, everyone, we really need to use the afternoon to put our heads together and draw out the details," Lily said clapping her hands and already scrambling up to her feet, ready to grab parchments and quills and getting down to work amidst wild groans of protest from James and Peter when —
"Um, loving the energy Grumps, but perhaps later?" Sirius cut in, speaking up for the first time since she arrived. "I'm sure Izzy's hammered after that crazy night..." he said, discretely wrapping his hand around her shoulder and drawing her closer and into his frame as she beamed up at him, a flood of relief washing over her.
"Later?" Lily gasped, as if someone had suggested they share a bed with a Hungarian Horntail. "You've no idea what's even brewing in You-Know-Who's den right this instant, like he could be plotting our DEATHS for all you know, Black! Honestly, get your arse off that couch and —"
"— aaand we will meet you back up here in an hour, perhaps," James cut in, winking not-so-discretely in Sirius's direction whilst putting a sort-of-calming hand around a very confused Lily and delicately leading her towards the door, while Claiborne and Remus exchanged amused looks of jaw-dropping respect for their friend with each other — and who could blame them as James had these profound moments of sweet wisdom come to him oh-so-rarely...
"My man," grinned Sirius, fist-bumping his bespectacled best friend who was patronisingly shushing a hysterical Lily out of the room as she went mumbling, "But, what seems to be the problem in doing it now?"
"We're lads, we need to keep eating! Right, Moony?" James suggested.
"Uh, sure..." came Remus's unimpressed response. "Just a little snacky-snack though, Evans, we promise. Right, Pads?" asked the mousy-haired boy over his shoulder.
"Mmm... Maaaybe a little more than a snack," Sirius guffawed, making Isabella roll her eyes and secretly blush at the same time, as she jumped up to her feet and whispered a quick, "I'll see you downstairs in a sec, okay?" in Claiborne's ear, while her right hand was still clasped inside Sirius's large one.
Claiborne, though, albeit smiling teasingly, spoke in a very stern voice, "I'm going to whack your butt for scaring us like that once you're finished here, Williams!"
Isabella laughed quietly. "Can't wait!" she grinned as Claiborne waved her goodbye and cheekily closed the door behind her, thrusting open a dam of feelings inside her.
Without another word, she whirled around and jumped onto a still-glazed-with-happiness Sirius, desperation quickly turning into a raw and hungry, passion-filled desire within her.
"Ah, finally..." she whispered through gritted teeth, urgently wrapping her hands around his neck and claiming his face entirely, smackering every inch of it with a breathless force that sent heat flashes of mind-numbing arousal up her own legs.
"No, no, no, baby, shh, shhh! Not... Goddammit... Merlin, I missed you too...!" he cried out gutturally, allowing himself to succumb to her kisses. "But, wait, baby we can't — we can't make any noise, Iz, we —"
"— Shut up!" she whispered and crashed her lips onto his plump ones, plunging him into a limbo state of pure arousal that made him roughly pull her closer to him, seating her on his lap and drowning in seventh heaven.
Panting and groaning in each other's mouths, she felt him kiss her back with an intensity that made them rock back and forth on the couch.
She finally broke apart only to rip the zipper off her hoodie jumper and toss it aside making him hiss with pleasure.
"Fuckin' hell..." he whisper-growled, his hands hungrily bunching around her mounds. To see her straddled around him in just her lace bra and jeans drove him crazy to the point of climaxing right in that instant. "You're beautiful, baby..." he hummed, kissing her neck and chin and making her forget her reality entirely for a brief second.
"Feels like forever since I saw you," Isabella mumbled against his ear and burrowing into his large frame. "What would ever I do without you, Sirius...?" she maffled giddily, feeling the growing intensity of his kisses against her skin, and resisting the urge to move his head down to her breasts and moving things along too quickly.
"What would you do without me...? Baby, I thought I'd lost you back there in that tower!" Sirius hissed back, squeezing her thin hips and kissing her bare chest in response as if he had read her mind, an unexplained pain exuding from his eyes. "I literally felt my life come to an end when I couldn't find you and..."
"No, I hate Lucius for hijacking me like that —!"
"— Are you kidding? I'm glad he did!" Sirius whispered back, wrapping his hands tightly around her and smacking her loudly on the lips one more time. "He kept you safe... He kept you alive and that's all that matters —"
"— I'd rather be with you, Sirius..." she muttered, pressing her forehead against his and feeling home at last. "I'd rather do it with you than anyone else," she breathed, her lips finding his again, this time with amplified passion that drove her to tear off his T-shirt and melt entirely into his tight embrace.
"Aw, fuck..." she heard him whisper between kisses, as he pressed his bare chest against her front, creating the perfect amount of squeeze-factor and friction she needed to feed her love. "Baby, let's not..." he hissed breathlessly, albeit scarlet in the face from arousal. "Not in this godforesaken room, it is so not soundproof —!"
"— I'll try and be quiet —!" she wheezed back, urgently unclipping her bra and tossing it aside too.
"— But I don't want our first time to be in Peter's room, Iz —!" he grumbled, although his hands were already kneading her breasts, his dilated eyes, looking savagely greedy.
"— But I want our first time to be now...!" she whimpered, watching him grit his teeth in mind-numbing desire at her long legs as she flung her jeans to the side, making him rip his shorts off too and grab hold her naked body, her tiny squeal of excitement sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine.
"Alright! Whatever you say, ma'am!" he grinned, quickly changing his mind and tossing them onto the bed, as he captured her lips in a way she had never thought was possible, because the waves of pleasure that were already washing over her made her swoon momentarily as she drowned into oblivion. She didn't know, nor expect things to get this heated up when she crashed her lips onto his several moments ago. But she was also glad that it did...
Moaning and groaning and rubbing against each other while snogging to no end under the sheets being wrapped around each other, quite forgetting the precarious nature of their situation, what with a bunch of adults lurking not twenty feet below where they lay curled up in each others' arms.
"Sirius...?" came her wrangled whispers as she limply held onto the lump that was his head under the sheets, urgently ravaging her breasts with his teeth and tongue, making her jerk violently into his mouth from being tickled giddy.
"I'm busy, baby..." she heard him cheekily say, even as her eyes flew open when she realised his hand was travelling south and finding the wet, aching spot between her thighs, making her head slam backwards into the pillow in erotic anticipation.
"Baby, I... I haven't... I've no idea what I'm doing..." she hissed, trying to keep her voice as low as possible, one she wasn't confident she could uphold as he worked on her breasts and clit at the same time, one being lavished by his tongue while the other getting kneaded into submission.
She felt her vision blur completely, as she stared into nothingness and allowed herself to succumb to the sweet anguish he was punishing her with, her body writhing uncontrollably under the sheets, both from being assaulted headless by a handsome, raven-haired boy and the mindless arousal that the said boy was plunging her into, doing Merlin-knew-what.
"Oh, god..." she breathed gutturally, arching upwards and giving him as much exposure to her swollen breasts as possible, even as loud laughter from downstairs shook her awake.
"Leave the 'doing' to me then," came his mighty late, smirky response as his gleeful head re-emerged from under the sheets, red as a beetroot, his hand still working delightful circles around her swollen folds, making her hips thrash unglamorously into him.
"Well, aren't I lucky...?" she grinned back teasingly, her breath fanning against his toothy smile, making him dive down to kiss her again as his fingers slipped through the wet opening now, causing great cause for concern for a completely distraught Isabella now.
"Begging you to stay quiet now, baby..." he whispered against her lips, and before she could figure out as to why, she felt him plunge his fingers inside her sending her into a world of ground-breaking pleasure.
Yelping out in surprise, all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and try and brave his fingers curling against that delicious spot, as her chest, red and swollen from being recently ravaged, rose and fell erratically, quite in sync with his fingers — God, his fingers! — that mercilessly pumped in and out of her.
"Quiet, baby, please..." he purred, ravishing the nape of her neck now while his other hand worked on her breasts, sending her to places she didn't know existed.
"— I hope she's resting!" came the muffled sounds of McGonagall from the floor below, making them take a panicked pause for a second.
"Trust me, Professor, I took it upon myself to ensure she got her alone time," they heard James's cheeky response.
Isabella and Sirius exchanged exasperated-yet-amused looks.
"Hate that prat..." he whispered frustratedly only to realise he had left his girlfriend hanging in the middle of love-making. "Time to speed things along, eh?" he chuckled, making her respond with a weak, "Yes, please?"
"Hold on tight, baby!" he grinned, snogging her loudly before increasing his fingers' pace, plunging her into another world once again, as she jerked back and forth under him, loving the feeling of getting 'banged' into oblivion. But with every passing second, her desperation to have him inside her mounted, growing out of control so much that she found herself internally begging him for more.
At long last, however, when she could hold it in no more, she actually brought his face up to hers and said a string of words that she never thought she'd ever utter in her entire life: "Fuck me, already! Fuck me, Sirius... Please...?"
But it seemed as if that was already his plan, because not a second later, he had yanked his fingers out and thrust his dick in instead, sending a shiver of relief down her spine as she took in his hardness and heat with closed eyes and a wet smile, making him grit his teeth hornily down at the effect he was having on his girlfriend.
"Moan for me, babe..." he muttered hungrily, as he propped himself on his elbows and began to roughly thrust in and out of her. She knew the sight of her breasts writhing up and down from his slow fucking must be driving him mad right about now, but what better than having a fully turned on Sirius working on her lust?
"Faster, babe... Faster... Before someone walks in..." she whispered urgently and bit her lower lip in pleasure, taking in his perfectly-timed thrusts. Annoyingly, though, he didn't go faster, as he bent down to suck on her breasts yet again, whilst pounding into her rhythmically, making her realise how foolish she had been a second ago to suggest that.
"Merlin's beard!" she squeaked, feeling herself clench painfully around him as waves and waves of pleasure began to crash into her from nowhere...
"I'd just like to go on record and state that you really do not want to be anywhere near that room, Professor!" they heard Remus's helpless voice boom from another world once again, but neither of them seemed to care anymore as they continued to make the bed creek and groan unpleasantly under them.
"Don't stop... please don't stop," she heard herself whisper into thin air as she realised he had quickened his pace to the point where her hair was bouncing on the spot.
"Oh, god...!" he moaned, as he mindlessly thrust into her fast enough to start a fire between them, but the more he pounded into her, the more she began to tense around him, making her moan and gasp with pleasure too.
"Almost there, baby...!" he whimpered, arching forwards and jerking uncontrollably, making her feet curl with the intensity. And before she knew it, her fingers had dug into the bed, her knuckles turning white from the pressure, as she prepared to leave her body entirely.
"Goddammit...!" he screamed, and right in that instant, she let out a wrangled yelp too, as her body jerked weakly, having orgasmed quite gloriously under him.
"What in the world was that?" they heard McGonagall demand crossly before the sounds of stomping feet and swishing robes reached them from below.
"That's just my cat, Professor!" came Lily's muffled voice.
"You don't own a cat, Miss Evans!" The sounds of feet stomping up the stairs grew louder now.
"You're right, Professor! Evans is stupid. It's my cat!" James tried to 'remedy' the situation, but Sirius, sweaty and red now, simply smacked his head in more frustration.
"We better get dressed," Isabella chuckled tiredly, but Sirius shook his head, giving her a quick kiss. "Nah, don't worry about it," he grinned back and simply whipped his wand out from under the bed and muttered, "Permanēo Colloportus!"
At the exact moment when they heard her land outside their room, they also heard the door's lock click in place, no doubt sending McGonagall into a world of fury.
"That's not going to work, Sirius, she'd just 'Alohomora' our arse off in a second!" whispered Isabella, getting shakily up onto her elbows.
"No, she's not. This is Moony's sticky lock charm, one he invented in our fourth year... No one's opening the door until the castor himself does so," he guffawed, making her raise her eyebrows in wild appreciation.
"Well, isn't that convenient?" she hummed, wrapping her hands dotingly around his neck and holding him close to her, as he looked ready to dive in for round two already.
"Why, what'd you have in mind, Princess?" he asked, grinning boyishly and snuggling into her even as the string of banging on the door ensued from outside.
Isabella raised her eyebrows even more, a teasing grin spreading across her face. "Do you honestly want me to spell it out —?" but Sirius had already stooped down and smacked his lips against hers, instantly transporting her to a faraway land of pure bliss, his passion spreading through her like wildfire.
- O -
The next ten minutes featured a string of curses being thrown collectively at all Gryffindors that McGonagall had ever had the misfortune to teach, coupled with incessant banging from the Head of House's end (the bangs growing steadily more and more desperate with every failed attempt to unlock the door) while Remus, James and Lily continued to stare helplessly at the five-headed, fanged beast that was determined to blast the door open.
"I've been handed a bunch of mindless baboons to teach this year, haven't I?" came McGonagall's screams, just as the room next door opened and out walked a confused Dorcas Meadowes and Narcissa Black.
"What's going on?" demanded Narcissa, casting a furtive glance at a white-as-a-sheet Lily.
"A supposed intervention...?" Lily responded weakly.
McGonagall swung around, her face etched with utter disbelief and inexplicable rage. Sputtering on the spot, Remus saw her ball her fists in frustration and yell, "TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" at Lily, as if she was making it clear just how disappointed she was with the whole lot. "And you two!" she added, swinging around and scaring the bejesus out of the two unsuspecting Slytherins by the door. "Get ready, we Floo to Hogwarts in exactly ONE HOUR!"
And with that, McGonagall swished past the three terror-struck Gryffindors down the stairs and out of sight, making Remus breathe a sigh of relief at last. Looking sideways, he looked at a red-faced James who, understandably, seemed to be on the fence about bursting out laughing and imploding to shreds in fear all at the same time.
"Well, I reckon no one's dying tonight after all," supplied James and the pair of them paused just for a second before they broke out laughing so hard, Remus had to hold onto the rails to keep himself from tumbling down the stairs.
"God, I hate Padfoot!" Remus managed between wheezes while James simply nodded vehemently to support that statement, while Dorcas and Narcissa simply rolled their eyes in disgust and slipped back into their room once again.
"You can say that again!" Lily bit out savagely, quite clearly not finding any of this funny in the slightest. "Merlin's beard, am I glad to be going back to Hogwarts where we can all escape from this state of absolute lawlessness!" she barked, giving the resolutely shut door a disappointed shake of the head. "Well, you heard her! We Floo to Hogwarts in an hour, and I expect you and the pair of gorillas in there to be stationed by the fireplace at exactly seven o' twelve, OR ELSE...!" she squealed, wearing her Prefect cap on and nodding at a totally unruffled James, before heading back downstairs to join Claiborne and Peter in the sitting room.
"Are we actually going to —" James began, simply pointing his finger upstairs and non-verbally confirming if they are indeed waking up the 'gorillas' per Lily's instructions.
"— No, we're not!" Remus stated firmly, looking scandalised and amused at the same time, even as a wave of desolation crashed into him all of a sudden. A recent memory from not so long ago had troubled him for a few weeks now... Shrugging it off, he wore a bright smile once again. "C'mon, let's try and convince Mrs. 'Grew for one last hot chocolate before we push out of this hellhole," he guffawed and the two of them dashed back downstairs.
~oO Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts
In complete contrast to the cold, dingy and dilapidated tree house, the Gryffindor Common Room was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor, arms laden with books or bags of clothes and talking eagerly to one another about what they had been up to while they were cooped up at home, waiting for Hogwarts to reopen.
To his left, James and Peter, along with Julius Freckle and Ryan Evantrap per usual, were in a deep, long conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, getting updates on Peeves and his atrocities while they were away and learning if the other ghosts in the castle had managed to get their revenge at all at the dastard poltergeist. A little behind him stood Lily barking out instructions at a bunch of fourth-years and delegating responsibilities to Xenophilius, the newly-appointed Prefect, while Alice, Mary and Claiborne stood in a corner, giggling gleefully about something Frank had done for Alice for her birthday last week. And although he found it hard to dart his eyes off of a certain blonde, sixth-year, Remus was consumed by thoughts of only two other people part of his tribe who seemed blissfully unaware of all the chaos that ensued around them: sharing a single couch, Sirius and Isabella didn't even seem to need words anymore, as they sat there cuddled up in each others' arms and whispering sweet-nothings to each other, looking blissfully joyous.
"That look always spells trouble."
The voice ripped through him like a knife, cutting through his thoughts and making him crash-land back to reality. And the minute he looked up, he doubled back so quickly that the book on his lap went crashing to the floor along with his mug of hot tea.
"Clay — Claiborne! I mean, hi — hello — er, I wa-wasn't — just — Merlin's beard, you gave me such a start!" Remus croaked, straightening out his jacket and trying to seem less clumsy, but the blonde sixth-year was in splits already, and he truly wasn't sure if that ought to make him proud or want to DIE in embarrassment — WHERE'S SIRIUS WHEN YOU NEEDED HIM THE MOST?!
"Since when did you get so jumpy, Remus?" Claiborne asked, still grinning and sitting down on the couch right next to his, adding to his agony.
"Well... Since I... Since I mysteriously started finding sandwiches in my bag?" Remus cracked, trying to slow down his heart rate, and delightfully, it made the blonde blush crimson, sending waves of heat up his own face.
"Well. Just as long as they're... appreciated," Claiborne nodded, trying to look as clueless as possible, but unfortunately for her, the blush only deepened. "Anyway, I er," she began, looking around and scanning the absolute madness that subsisted around them, "I was wondering if I could have a private word with you? Somewhere less crowded, perhaps?" she raised her eyebrows enquiringly.
Remus, whose stomach jolted uncomfortably at the suggestion, looked around too. The Common Room would not do.
"C'mon," he said, getting up to his feet, "the Great Hall," he stated and Claiborne eagerly nodded.
Fifteen minutes later, Remus found himself sat opposite the pretty blonde in the long, nearly deserted Gryffindor table, with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate between them. The only sounds that reached them were from the sputtering of candles floating above them and the quiet whispers of around half a dozen students that peppered along the four tables in the large hall.
"I am going to get straight to the point, Remus," Claiborne began, looking delicately solemn now. "Something's bothering you and it concerns me that you're dealing with it all by yourself," she stated plainly, making his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "And I wanted you to know that if you need to talk to someone, I'm right here..."
"Oh," Remus said, still feeling wildly impressed that she had noticed him being preoccupied when none of the others had. "Wow, er..."
"Look, Remus," Claiborne cut in worriedly, speaking very fast now. "If it's about something you saw in the mind-reading journal that I lent you earlier, the one you gifted me last Christmas, I just wanted to say that I am really, really sorry about it... Nothing in there ought to worry you in the slightest, I promise, I mean... I wouldn't do anything stupid although it may look like I might have been considering it at the time and —"
"— Claiborne —"
"— No, Remus, look, I know how much you care for me even if you don't say it out loud very often... I know how worried it must have made you feel! Look, I get stupid thoughts all the time, I am just like that! Besides, I was at a low point at the time... I was obsessed with you and... But, I am stronger than I look and —"
"— Clay," Remus said, a little louder now, making her quiet down, albeit fretfully. "I never once doubted that," he said quietly, beaming sincerely into her face.
And before he continued, he needed to take a moment to admire just how wise Claiborne was. Yes, she was absolutely bang on about him — he was, indeed, preoccupied with something that he had read in the diary that he borrowed from her right before Hogwarts shut down several weeks ago, that had plagued his mind all along. She'd just guessed the wrong reason for his preoccupation.
"But, let's talk about it..." Remus said, leaning in, trying to overcome his nervousness now. He should have done this so long ago. Git! he yelled at himself.
"We never actually addressed the elephant in the room that caused us to drift away, even as friends, did we?" he began.
"We don't have to, Remus, I understand. My intention wasn't to make you uncomfortable —"
"You aren't and no, we are going to talk about this now," Remus stated firmly, exhaling nervously. "It's true, Clay. Just to set the record straight, you weren't the only one obsessed with me, I was obsessed with you too. News of your engagement did leave me shattered for weeks, but I am strong enough to talk about it now, get it all out in the open..." Remus found himself say, quite unable to stop the words tumbling out of his mouth now. He had no idea where all this courage was coming from, but here he was, baring his chest open. "I don't just fancy you, Clay... It's much more than that, so much more. I don't know if I have the courage to call it 'love' yet, but it's definitely something along the lines of love that I feel for you. And I truly was hoping to hold your hand and walk into the sunset, like a regular person — give me my own happy ending, y'know? Foolish idea, I know!" he cut in before she could open her mouth. "How so very stupid of me! I hadn't even had the courage to tell you how I feel, accept me for who I am, and here I was building castles in the air..." he said bitterly, thinking about his condition of lyncanthropy and hating himself for it. "It's not your fault, Clay, you did nothing to hurt me. I just want you know that you are not, in no way, to take the blame for this —"
"— But I do!" Claiborne said loudly, banging her fists on the table, looking distressed. "I love you too, Remus," she muttered shakily, her eyes blazing with conviction. "You know, as a Pureblood and born in a family that's extremely orthodox, you'd think I'd be an expert at sealing my heart shut and following mum's orders," she said, huffing forlornly. "Mum had arranged my marriage with Borgin the day I turned eleven and I had the gall to let myself fall for you despite being bonded by blood to someone else? It wasn't fair to you," she said, her eyes getting uncharacteristically wet. "I led you on, despite knowing there could never be a future for us... That's how selfish I am!" she exclaimed, her lips twitching around the corners. "And I know how frightened you must have been when you read my last note in the diary about wanting to break my blood vow to Borgin and follow my heart, follow you to the end of time!"
Remus didn't say anything and looked on despondently back at the love of his life. "I was, but guess what? I'd never let you do that, Clay," he said softly. "I love you far too much to let you risk your life like that..."
"But... Remus," Claiborne said, taking his hand in hers all of a sudden and looking desperately at him, "there really isn't any hard evidence that suggests that the person who breaks a blood vow would actually — die, I mean.. It's an old hag's tale! It was obviously told to scare people from breaking off an engagement, because Purebloods are just so vile that way —"
"— Clay, you're mental if you think I'd try to find out if that's true!" Remus exclaimed looking appalled, although it killed him to actually say the words. "We're not going to even discuss the possibility of that, you hear me?" he said loudly, looking straight into her eyes and placing his hand on top of hers to state that his words were final. "You just said it yourself, you're stronger than that. You cannot be having such thoughts, and you're right, if I didn't know you better, it would worry me to death that you're even penning it down. You're practical, and wise, and that's what I love most about you," he sighed, pain searing through his heart. Up until ten minutes ago, he didn't think he'd ever be able to meet Claiborne in the eye and man up about how crazily in love he was with her and yet, here he was, surprising himself out of his wits... "I'm just glad I got to even share a moment of friendship with you, Clay. And I could go on living the rest of my life simply knowing that Claiborne Charlotte Jones had loved me back too," he smiled sombrely. Breathing was becoming difficult now. "Perhaps in another life," he choked and a comfortable, albeit strained, silence followed his words.
Claiborne's eyes filled up and she seemed to be doing everything in her power from breaking down entirely. "It's just so unfair," she breathed, blinking back tears, her grip on his hand tightening.
"I know," he responded, lowering his eyes. "But I know what would cheer you up. Next time, we go to Hogsmeade, it would be just you, me and Peter, spending a whole afternoon at The Three Broomsticks, getting drunk on Butterbeer and laughing our lungs out, just like old times," he smiled, bringing a chuckle out of her despite the sadness.
"I'd like that very much, thank you," she gushed, wiping the corner of eye with her hand and grinning back fondly at him.
And the sweet silence that followed that moment seemed to last an eternity before Remus spoke again. "Anyway, there's something else that I'd like to talk about," he began. "The real reason why I borrowed your diary for an entirely different purpose actually... And that was what was bothering me all along. There's something that I haven't told the others yet, that I am about to confide in just you, Clay."
Claiborne frowned slightly. "What is it, Remus?"
Remus hesitated a little before saying, "Hogwarts is full of secrets, Clay... There are secret passageways, secret objects, secret rooms... even secret chambers," he started. "Several weeks ago, when Death Eaters attacked the castle, Izzy, Sirius, James and I accidentally opened a secret vault which we learned later on was actually Gryffindor's chamber."
"Yeah, I remember that," Claiborne nodded. "That was when you came face to face with a weird-looking lion or something, didn't you?"
"Yes, that. That was also when I realised that if Gryffindor had a secret chamber, all the other founders would have one too, and that, it was in Slytherin's chamber that I would find the clue, the little missing piece that would end this war..."
Claiborne frowned even more, clearly not understanding what direction this conversation was headed in.
"Right after the school was attacked, before Hogwarts shut down, Dumbledore mentioned that a terrifying basilisk could be living within Hogwarts walls, that it was bred and housed in the castle by the Heir of Slytherin themselves. That he believed the Heir who housed the basilisk in here was You-Know-Who."
A tense silence gripped the two of them, shrouding them in a shadow of fear.
"It got me thinking... Why would You-Know-Who do something like that? He'd never part from something as magnificent and terrifying as a basilisk, in fact if anything, he'd actually want to keep it by his side and terrorise the magical world into submission as he gained power. None of it made any sense... And so, I decided to find the chamber and meet the beast myself... You see, basilisks, like dragons, are extremely intelligent creatures. They are more clairvoyant than we give them credit for.
But of course, there is the fact that I cannot come face-to-face with the beast, 'cause I'd die if I look into its eyes," Remus scoffed matter-of-factly. "And I am not a Parselmouth too, so I needed a way to communicate with it and somehow stay alive as well."
"So, that's why you needed the diary... 'Cause you use it to pen your thoughts down on it by just thinking it, and whatever the basilisk thought up as the answer you'd know too," Claiborne put two and two together, her eyes widening in amazement. "Wow... You are a genius."
Remus blushed. "Yeah, well... I don't do autographs," he joked solemnly, making her burst into a chuckle.
"But how did you get in?" Claiborne asked, taking a sip of hot chocolate.
"Well, I didn't tell Dumbledore why, but I told him it was extremely important that he lent me Fawkes for the weekend," Remus chortled at the memory. "I guess it's one of those rare moments where you get to witness Dumbledore gaping and looking completely lost. Anyway, I knew what a non-Parselmouth can't do, a phoenix can."
"But, Remus!" Claiborne whisper-yelled, looking horrified. "You could still have gotten killed by the monster! Honestly, what were you thinking?!"
"You're right, it would have been stupid of me to go in there myself, which was why, I simply wrote down a series of questions and attached the diary to Fawkes's talons. To be honest, I wasn't sure if it would work. The sixty odd minutes that I spent impatiently waiting for the bird to return in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was nerve-wracking to say the least. But to my surprise, not only did Fawkes come back, looking hale and healthy, I also saw that new words had appeared under the questions I had written down..." he said, grinning internally and feeling the excitement fill up within him.
Wordlessly, he put his hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the tiny, leather-bound diary that had the words 'Claiborne Jones' etched on the cover in gold lettering and placed it on the table between them.
"D'you want to find out what the snake actually said?" he asked and Claiborne nodded eagerly, her eyes the size of tennis balls now.
Flipping through the pages of the book, Remus stopped at a page somewhere down the middle and slipped it towards Claiborne so could read it.
Grabbing hold of her diary, Claiborne pulled it closer to her and scanned the page. There, in Remus's neat handwriting were a series or about four or five questions, and right below his questions were a string of answers written in a weird, squiggly handwriting that she assumed was the basilisk's responses.
Who are you?
ȋValerso
Who sent you here?
The true Heir of Slytherin
Why were you sent here?
To await the birth of another Heir to the House of Slytherin and slay them after the Lord has risen...
What is the Dark Lord afraid of?
Death at the hands of the other Heir. Only one shall rise as the other perishes
What does Mávros Slytherin's curse mean?
The end of the world at the hands of the Dark Lord
What would happen if the Cursed Pair united?
Death...
Claiborne looked up. "I don't understand what any of this means," she said, frowning confusedly.
"You don't?" Remus asked, a wave of worry crashing into him all over again, because he knew exactly what the future held, making him squirm uncomfortably in his seat. "That's okay, there is no need to worry about it right away..."
But Claiborne looked unconvinced.
"Seriously, nothing's going to happen tomorrow, so we're okay," Remus insisted, giving her hand a good squeeze and realising they were now the only ones left in the Great Hall. "Think we'd better head back to our tower before Filch gets under our skin and takes ten thousand points from Gryffindor!" he said, making her chuckle nervously as they rose from their seats.
"So, you lot crashing our dorm for a late night game of Truth or Dare as planned?" Remus asked as they walked down on either side of the long table and towards the High Table.
Claiborne, who was staring glazedly back at him, simply nodded.
"Excellent! I'll send James to sneak in bottles of Butterbeer, then!" Remus exclaimed, rubbing his hands in excitement, as they neared the edge of the long table. "By the way, you are so dying at my hands tonight, I am going to be RUTHLESS with my dares —!"
But Claiborne had mutely put her hand forwards, held him softly by the neck and pulled him towards her, making his whole world come to an absolute standstill. Struck with terror, Remus tried to assess the situation, but it seemed his brain had entirely shut off, making him simply gape back numbly as she closed the distance between them and kissed him.
She was kissing him.
It took Remus a moment to understand why his body felt so light, so elated with joy, so alive. It took him a moment to understand that Claiborne's lips were on his, pressing into his skull and claiming his face entirely.
But the moment passed and his inhibitions vaporized at once as he found himself grabbing her by her hands and pulling her into him too and kissing her back, feeling the anguish and pain in his heart sear through him yet again... Opening his mouth, he let her tongue lick away at his love, and he felt himself melting away into nothingness under her touch. Because Claiborne had curled her hands around his neck now and stood on tip-toes to try and merge into him, her love ripping through him like a knife.
If it was at all possible to pause Time, Remus seemed to have achieved that, because he truly felt like he was floating in a bubble of his own, not even aware of how protectively his hands were wrapped around the dainty blonde. The only thing moving, the only thing he even felt were the rise and fall in pressure of Claiborne's lips against his that seemed to crash into him in waves, plunging him in and out of an inexplicable lull.
After spending Merlin-knew-how-long being pressed against each other in a kiss that never once broke, he felt her loosen her grip on him and slowly pull away, which he (thankfully) had the sense to yield to. With a loud, yet quiet smack, they broke apart, but Claiborne held onto his neck like her life depended on it. Eyes still closed, she let her head rest against his burning lips, breathing him in slowly and deeply, the silence in the Great Hall enveloping around them like a warm blanket.
"No matter how far I go," she began, a whisper meant just for him, "I will always belong to you, Remus."