The Godmother

16. the night is a terrible place

She forced herself to read the article. It went for three pages. It was a jumble of Regulus' war crimes and public opinions that he was probably in contact with Sirius, 'ready to attack', as one man put it. People were holding their breaths. The Black brothers. Where Were They And When Would They Next Be Seen?

Elizabeth burnt the paper until there was nothing left but flake-y grey ash that disappeared lighter than it took for a feather to take to flight.

Another month went past and the end of the year was approaching slyly. It was the beginning of June, hailed with warmness, birds and blooming flowers that made the castle a more comforting place to be in after such a cool winter.

Elizabeth had forgotten the feeling of sunlight warming up her skin as she laid by the lake one lunchtime. She felt like the sun was radiating through her skin and out the other side of her, warming her blood and melting her bones.

A rat scattered past her, squeaking like a toy. She jumped up and watched as it dashed past her and into the grass. Things were quiet after that. Peaceful. Calm.

Sometimes it felt like the sun was washing away the fresh layer of depression that coated itself on Elizabeth. It was like a cleansing shower. Refreshing.

Part of her underneath yearned to see Sirius again, to touch him and hold his hand and kiss him. But the truth of the matter was that staying away from all distractions was the main aim for Elizabeth. She had to be ready when the danger approached. When Harry was destined to die.

Sometimes she didn't eat dinner. She liked the feeling in her stomach, the way she heard it grumble because it wanted food. It begged her to eat and she had the ability- the control- to say no. Then she'd have a meal the next day, safely teetering over the edge of being a complete nutjob combined with the depression.

She found that students hated Harry as he became an attraction for dangerous people. First Quirrell and Tom Riddle, then Gilderoy Lockhart (who was merely an idiot), and now Sirius-fucking-Black?

Elizabeth left the lake to teach her second-years and stayed in her room for the rest of the day. The week passed and Elizabeth was tasked with teaching the Third years again; Harry.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins hobbled into the class and sat down. Elizabeth had decided to teach them how to conjure a patronus. With Harry's 'death' coming closer, she wanted to know that he had atleast some defensive knowledge in him. If they ended up in the forest it would attract Dementors and he needed to know how to send them away.

She explained the spell, the way it worked and how to think of the best memory they'd ever had. The students wrote on their parchment, the nerdy kids writing almost an entire transposition of Elizabeth's lesson.

Harry's worst fear was a Dementor- no surprise what with the attack that he'd suffered during the Quidditch game a few months back. He conjured a stag. Like James. It was a powerful patronus and Elizabeth was surprised by how efficiently he'd been able to conjure it.

A week passed and she went through the routine of starving then eating, going outside and reading and not sleeping. She still hated Remus and the pent-up fear for when Harry's death would come was building.

Elizabeth went to bed one night. After tossing and turning for two hours, she fell asleep. The next thing she knew, there was a bang.

Elizabeth jumped up. Remus was there, red-faced, heaving for breath and shirtless. His trousers had mud on them and they looked too short as they cuffed high above his ankles- they almost looked like Sirius'.

The sun was burning through Elizabeth's window. She saw desperation in Remus' face.

"What the fuck!", Elizabeth exclaimed.