4 August, 1995 - Pretending

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As the days wore on, Lavinia continued pretending. And she hated it. She hated herself for trying to escape it. She hated that it wasn't working. She hated that those words wouldn't leave her head.

It's our war too.

And Merlin she didn't want it to be. She wanted to protect them. To protect them all from the pain she herself had felt. Pain she wouldn't wish on anyone else. Pain they were all going to feel before this was over. Which, she knew, was why she kept trying to pretend. And try she did. She pretended that life was normal. She pretended that nothing was amiss. That no one would die and no one would grieve. She pretended she wasn't running from a truth she would one day have to face.

It wasn't working very well, but that wasn't stopping her. And, perhaps because Remus was still away on Order business, there was no one else there to try to stop her when she didn't know how to stop herself. Indeed, it was another full week after that rather painful conversation with Jasmine that anyone called Lavinia out for her foolishness.

She was having tea with Ethan, Kama and Miriam when it happened, still trying to desperately to fill the too familiar silence of this house with some light. Trying to convince herself that nothing at all was off and that this was just a normal day in a normal life that wasn't ever going to change.

It wasn't working.

Lavinia had completely zoned out at some point and was instead worrying again. And the latest topic of concern was Harry. It was more than halfway through the summer by now and it seemed to Lavinia that Harry would be arriving at the Black house very soon indeed. And once he was there... well Lavinia had no idea what she would say. How could she possibly explain? How could she possibly apologise? How could he ever do anything but hate her?

And how could she possibly protect him? Because where Lavinia was reasonably certain she could keep every other child out of this war, Harry was a different story. A different problem. Because the Weasley twins and Ginny and Hermione and Ron and Jasmine would all only ever touch the war if they chose to. They would only ever fight if they chose to. So all Lavinia and anyone else had to do to keep them from the war, was make sure they never got the chance to make the decision themselves. Which was selfish and awful she was sure, because...

It's our war too.

But they were so young. And their lives so short. And she would do her damnedest to make sure they didn't end too soon. She would do her damnedest to make sure they didn't make that choice without knowing exactly what it would cost not just them, but those who loved them.

But Harry was a problem. Because Harry didn't have a choice. He would never have a choice. She had known it from that moment she had stood in the hospital wing and heard Dumbledore say words that had damned that poor child. Because Harry would be at the center of this war. Harry would be hunted. Harry would not be given a choice. So Lavinia had no idea at all how to keep him safe when she couldn't keep him from the fighting. From this war that truly was his war.

So, as if she didn't already have enough fear about Harry's inevitable appearance at Headquarters, that apprehension was now coupled with the reality that once Harry was there, once he was filled in and the plans started to be put in motion... he would never get to back out again. Once he was there, he never got to leave the war behind.

Really, the only good thing to look forward to, she supposed, was that at least with Harry at Grimmauld Place, Sirius would have the company of someone he truly cared about. And Sirius was actually another problem. Every time Lavinia came to that house, and every time she left, she saw Sirius looking... well she didn't entirely know how to describe it. He looked frustrated and sad and lonely. So very very lonely. And every time she was there, Lavinia felt something ache and curl over on itself inside her. Every time, she knew she should have stayed.

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