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68 || slipping

Grimmauld Place was too quiet. No one spoke to Sirius as they entered, not that he'd answer, he was too busy drinking his feelings away.

It was late when Adelaide and Regulus returned. Everyone was at dinner when they heard the door slam shut and heaving footsteps running up the stairs.

Regulus entered the room and everyone's eyes turned to him, "She's not hungry right now, I'll take up food later." Mrs Weasley nodded and got him a plate of dinner.

Meanwhile Adelaide was upstairs in her room, getting her stash of vodka and weed from one of the floorboards. If her life was going downhill, she might as well speed up the process.

Locking the door, she sat on the window ledge, smoking a joint and thinking back to the morning when everything had been fine. After Astoria left she'd tried to go back to sleep but hadn't been able to, so instead she drafted a letter to her mum, telling her all about the messy drama with Harry and Cho kissing them Thomas kissing her. To think she wouldn't ever be able to do that again killed her, stabbed her through the heart over and over. Now there was nothing left, just a hole where her heart used to be.

A knock sounded at the door followed by a voice, "Adelaide. It's me." Of course it was Sirius, "Look. I'm not going to pester you, but if you want to talk, open the door for me, if not, I've got the hint and I'll leave you be."

Adelaide didn't move. There was no way she was opening the door, and Sirius seemed to get that.

"Okay. There's something for you," He said, "From Ma- Marlene."

A letter slid across the floor, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Adelaide debated it. Should she read the letter, or would that make her want to take flight and never return. Maybe America would be a fresh start for her, where there was no war, no death, no expectations of what she should live up to.

Deciding to open it and face whatever was awaiting her, Adelaide placed the bottle of vodka on the floor and ripped open the letter.

My darling girl,
I'm writing now, at the end of your fourth year. Dumbledore has just told us that Voldemort returned and you're lying there unconscious.
To be perfectly honest with you, I'm scared. I've been through this before. A war. And I lost my family and my friends. But I was also graced with you and eventually Regulus, although maybe I wouldn't call that a grace. I'm scared because I lost my friends to a war and my family, and I don't know if I'd be able to lose you too.
But as scared as I am, I'm going to fight, because I know that for good to succeed we must defend and attack against the evil. And maybe that will come with losses, but in the end, there will be happiness and there will be love remaining in the darkness.
So if I do go, I want you to be happy. I want you to keep smiling, because my sacrifice won't be in vain. I'd have given my life so that you can get the best out of yours. So that one day, maybe you can have your own kids and be married. You can start the life that I want you to have.

It's now December, I thought I should update this letter as I haven't died yet. Sorry, that sounds so morbid. I mean the anxiety of waiting for an attack is ever so present and the only way I can relieve some of that anxiety is by writing this letter that you may or may not receive.
Things are getting much worse. The Ministry is still denying Voldemort is back and Umbridge is positioned at Hogwarts to control you there. Meanwhile, Voldemort gets stronger every day, gaining more followers. Dumbledore has asked me to protect something. And I'm going to tell you what, but you must never, ever tell anyone this. At the ministry, there is a prophecy, detailing Harry and Voldemort. If this gets into his hands, we'll stand no chance. So if I die, just know, I'm doing this to protect you, to protect Harry, to protect everyone in the Wizarding World.
I've also given something else a lot of thought. You always ask me why you have to take that medication, what happened. And I've been too scared to tell you. But you're sixteen now, and you deserve to know the truth. In the envelope are my memories of what happened, take it to the pensieve in Dumbledore's office. You'll be angry that we kept this from you, but we did it for you.
I love you so much my daughter, you are the light of my life, my saviour in the dark.
Your annoyingly beautiful mother.

𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀, harry potterWhere stories live. Discover now