When Ariadne got up the next morning, she was all too aware of the empty space beside her. She had been aware of it the entire sleepless night, of Hermione's light breathing to her right and nothing to her left.
Ariadne unzipped herself as quietly as she could, getting to her feet carefully. Not quietly enough, though.
"Where's Harry?" Ron asked sleepily, blinking up at Ariadne as he stretched his arms over his head. "Blimey! Why do you look like that?" He sat up quickly, indicating vaguely towards the direction of his own face.
Awakened by the noise, Hermione opened a single eye. She took a moment to reorient herself with her relatively unfamiliar surroundings before sitting up as well, peering up at Ariadne with concern. "Is everything alright? Have– have you been crying?"
"No," Ariadne denied, swiping at her eyes. Hermione looked unconvinced. "Yes," she corrected with a sigh. "I can't– I've made a mistake. A big one. And I think– I think Harry could really use you lot right about now."
Hermione followed Ariadne's gaze to the furthest point of the Hall, where Harry was being blocked from exiting by the Head Girl. He looked exhausted even from Ariadne's distant vantage point, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair.
"But are you alright?" Hermione asked when she looked back at Ariadne. The usually composed girl was a mess, her sleek hair tangled and smooth skin marred by dark bags under her eyes. But Ariadne only nodded.
"I'm fine," she pasted on a smile, hoping to assuage Hermione's worried stare. And she was, really. She hadn't been the one to learn life changing news about the murder of their parents, after all. Just the one to reveal it. "I reckon those two could use your help getting out of here though," she added, pointing at Ron, who had joined Harry's attempts to be allowed to leave. Penelope Clearwater would not budge. "Go on," she prompted. Ariadne could tell that Ron and Harry's ineptitude was weakening Hermione's resolve. "I'll stay here until Ginny wakes up."
She could feel the Hall's eyes on her as the students began to wake up, hushed whispers reaching her ears one by one. The feeling was familiar, from when she first began school, though they had waned with the support of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But they were gone now, and as Ariadne sat and waited for Ginny's snores to abate, she began to realize that who she had by her side wouldn't change anything. She would always just be Sirius Black's daughter.
It was Sirius Black's daughter that got stared at as she was escorted on her way to classes in the weeks after the attack. It was Sirius Black's daughter that the paintings shied away from every time she got too close. It was Sirius Black's daughter that Harry avoided every time they passed each other in the Common Room, her throat tightening with each averted glance. And it was Sirius Black's daughter that McGonagall asked to speak with in her office.
"Oh," Ariadne said when she arrived, surprised to find Harry already seated. She shouldn't have been, though. Unfortunately, now that he wanted nothing to do with her, Harry seemed to be everywhere that Ariadne looked. "Hello," she greeted quietly, eyes facing the ground. She looked up briefly to see the look on his face. Nothing. It was utterly blank as held his gaze forward, his clenched jaw the only sign that he may have heard her.
"Have a seat, Miss Black," Professor McGonagall gestured, looking really very stern. Harry shifted away from her as she reached her chair. She'd have felt better if he yelled.
"There is a very serious matter to discuss," said McGonagall, expression solemn. "And it will be very difficult to hear. Sirius Black–"
"–is after me, yes," Harry interjected, tone almost bored. He's anxious to leave, Ariadne realized. He'd rather risk McGonagall's wrath than spend another second next to me. She looked down at her knees.
"I overheard people from the Ministry discussing it," he explained. "I'm fine, really. Can I go now?"
McGonagall looked utterly taken aback, mouth forming a small 'o' before she spoke once more. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, Potter. But this is a matter for both you and Miss Black to hear–"
"Yes," Ariadne cut in, surprising herself with her own daring. McGonagall looked surprised again as well. But if Harry wanted to leave, Ariadne wouldn't force him to sit with her. "Yes, he could be after me too, I know. Amelia Bones already came to speak with me about it."
"Actually," McGonagall coughed. She straightened in her chair before looking Ariadne firmly in the eye. "I have called you in here for a different reason, Miss Black. The Ministry has requested I inform you that your mail will be monitored henceforth, and that it would be best for you to remain at Hogwarts during the winter holidays."
She had certainly been planning on doing that anyways, but why would they–
"To keep an eye on her, you mean," Harry said, blank expression gone for the first time.
Ah. Well, she couldn't deny that it made sense. Ariadne nodded complacently.
But green eyes flashed with irritation. He was angry– angry for her, not at her. Well, he was still angry at her. But it meant that he still cared, at least. Ariadne hadn't been sure. "That's not fair."
"No, Potter, it isn't," McGonagall agreed. "But it's out of my hands, unfortunately. This is a matter far greater than the walls of Hogwarts. I suspect you'll understand, then, why it's for the best that you remove yourself from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The open field–"
"You can't, Professor!" Ariadne exclaimed now, outraged on Harry's behalf. McGonagall raised a surprised eyebrow.
"Can't I, Miss Black?"
"No," Ariadne shook her head, doubling down on her obstinance. "No, I mean, not if you want a shot at winning the Cup this year. Harry's all the team's got. No one else is even close to good enough to be Reserve."
"I didn't know you were such an avid Quidditch follower, Miss Black," McGonagall commented, and Ariadne almost blushed because she didn't care for Quidditch much at all, really. But she cared for Harry.
"But I would like to see Gryffindor beat Slytherin this year," the professor continued. "Godric knows it's been a long time..."
"Alright," she conceded finally. "With the condition that Madam Hooch be there to monitor your practices. But I expect a Cup out of you, Mr. Potter."
Harry nodded seriously, mouth a determined line. He got up and bid goodbye to McGonagall, who looked taken aback by the coldness that had generated between them.
Though Harry did not look at Ariadne as he left, fast stride keeping him ahead of her, he held the door open for her on the way out.
"She's right you know, Harry," Ariadne called after him. Harry stopped walking but did not turn around. "You shouldn't play. If my dad has anything planned for you, I'd..."
She held her breath as Harry turned to face her, slowly, as though debating whether or not he should. When he finally settled in front of her, his green eyes were blazing. "You'd what? Hear word and then lie to me about it for nearly a year? I don't need your help, Ariadne."
And with that, he spun back around, walking towards the Quidditch pitch to begin his supervised practice. When he was out of sight, Ariadne turned in the opposite direction, walking back to her dorm alone.
Ariadne.
He might as well have said Sirius Black's daughter.
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Ariadne was on her way to Charms the next week when she saw Harry and Hermione standing outside of Lupin's classroom. She slowed down but did not stop, careful to avoid Harry's proximity when all he had asked for was space. And space she had given.
He was speaking animatedly to Hermione as she nodded long, looking quiet and thoughtful even when Ron joined them. It wasn't until the two boys walked away, and Hermione turned to face the opposite direction, that her face crumpled before she ran into the nearest girl's toilets.
Ariadne followed.
She waited outside of the door for a moment to allow Hermione a brief reprieve, before knocking in warning.
"Hermione?" Ariadne called quietly as she entered, as though afraid she might scare Hermione off.
Ariadne gasped as something cold passed through her right shoulder.
"She's in there," Myrtle said, now hovering in front of Ariadne and looking absolutely gleeful. Her translucent eyes sparkled with mirth. Myrtle gestured towards a closed stall towards the end of the hall before speaking again, her voice coquettishly high. "She's a mess, the wretched little thing. I wonder what they did to her..."
Walking past Myrtle with an irritated huff, Ariadne found herself standing the last dark green stall.
"Hermione?" she called again.
A small sniffle preceded quiet shuffling before the stall door unlocked with a click.
"Hello, Ariadne," Hermione greeted, eyes red-rimmed and wet. She moved aside to allow Ariadne into the stall before resuming her seat upon the toilet and placing her head in her hands. Ariadne silently crouched down beside Hermione, rubbing her shoulders as she let out a sob that shook her whole body. Wiping at her eyes, Hermione finally looked up.
"Do you think that I'm an insufferable know-it-all?"
That was the last question that Ariadne had expected to hear from Hermione, and she was absolutely furious. "Who said that?" she demanded. If it was Draco, she'd slap him so hard Narcissa wouldn't recognize him.
"Snape." Hermione laughed bitterly. "In class today. And he's not wrong, is he? I really am a know-it-all."
Of course it was Snape. Why was he so miserable? At least his anger at her was somewhat understandable, considering the crimes that her father had committed. But Hermione? She'd never set a foot out of place, not in front of a teacher.
"Hermione, if you weren't a know-it-all then me, Ron, and Harry would probably be dead about a hundred times over. You're the brightest witch at Hogwarts. That's not really something to be ashamed of."
Hermione sniffled once more before lurching forward suddenly, throwing her arms around Ariadne. The younger girl paused, somewhat unused to the feeling, before hugging Hermione back.
"Ron defended me, you know." Hermione said as she pulled away, cracking a watery smile as she wiped the final remnants of tears from her eyes. Ariadne grinned back.
"Ron's smart like that too, sometimes."
The two sat in silence for a moment, Ariadne wondering idly if Flitwick would take points or not for her being so late. Or perhaps she'd be better off skipping altogether. She wasn't too fussed either way, really, when there were much more important things to consider.
"Do you think that you and Harry will make up?" Hermione's quiet voice jarred Ariadne out of her thoughts, voicing the possibilities that Ariadne herself had been too afraid to even consider. She looked at her brown-eyed friend seriously before smiling sadly.
"I don't know," Ariadne admitted. "I kept something from him. Something big. I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to..." Her voice trailed off, but Hermione understood. She placed a warm hand on Ariadne's knee, waiting until Ariadne lifted her head to face her until she spoke again.
"Everything will be okay," Hermione assured. "Harry, he just– I think you're the last person he ever expected to be able to hurt him. Even if you didn't mean to," she added, seeing the guilt overwhelm Ariadne's face. "But he would never want to lose your friendship. No matter what you've done. And until he's got that through his head, you've got me and Ron. We're not just Harry's friends, you know. We're yours, too."
It was Ariadne's turn to cry, now, with relief this time as she leaned her head over and onto Hermione's shoulder. Hermione had known exactly what to say, as she always did, to remind Ariadne that she was not alone.
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As she exited Herbology a few days later, somebody grabbed Ariadne by the arm and shook it excitedly. Astoria. Ariadne waved Ginny off when she indicated that she'd be late to her next class before turning to face the grinning blonde.
"Yes?" Ariadne asked, amused.
"Hufflepuff-Gryffindor is tonight. We have to go together. What do you say?"
"Hufflepuff? I thought Gryffindor was playing Slytherin first."
"Well, yes," Astoria bit her lip. "But you know, Draco's still too hurt to play–" she cut herself off as Ariadne scoffed. "He is!" Astoria insisted. "You should have seen the way he was holding his arm during breakfast today, I can tell he's really– oh alright, he's fine, of course. But now we can sit together without having to fight over who we're supporting."
"I wasn't really planning on going," Ariadne began, but stopped when Astoria frowned.
"You don't want to watch Harry?" she asked, confusion lining her brow.
"I'm not– we're not really speaking, at the moment."
"Oh," Tori was quiet for a moment, observing Ariadne. She seemed to find whatever she was looking for, because she sprung up with a renewed energy. "He'll forgive you," Astoria said confidently, but Ariadne was not so sure. "You're you, after all. And he's Harry. Besides," she added. "You'll regret it when you make up if you didn't go. And, I'm even willing to root for Gryffindor, all for you," Tori finished magnanimously.
"That's quite an offer," Ariadne placed a hand to her heart, sighing in exaggerated appreciation. She tried very hard not to think of Tori's words: when you make up. "How could I say no?" she caved, smiling along with Astoria. "I'll be there."
They met at the entrance just before the game started that night, Astoria bounding up with a red and gold flag in hand. It was at least as good of an effort as Ariadne, who'd only thrown on her scarf before running down.
"Nicked it from a firstie," Astoria explained to a disapproving Ariadne. "What? Honestly you lot have got to learn to stop waving your things about. And I wasn't going to get my own," she rolled her eyes. "Red and gold are a disaster for my complexion. You've got the undertones to pull it off," she reassured "though green might honestly be better."
Astoria stopped talking suddenly, turning beet red as she shoved her flag in her pocket. Which is how Ariadne knew Draco was close by before she could even hear him.
"And that's when my father told him that he would be taking controlling interest of the–" he drawled from behind her, a simpering Pansy hanging onto his every word. Astoria scowled at the sight of Pansy, though she schooled her expression as Draco approached. She flashed a small smile, keeping her eyes low as she looked up from beneath her lashes. Draco didn't spare her a second glance, choosing instead to glare at Ariadne before snapping at Pansy to move faster.
"So, when's the wedding?" Ariadne asked Astoria, who glared back in response. "What? No, Tori, I'm serious, I think that went really well! He's really such a romanti– okay, okay, I'll stop!" But Astoria only huffed as she pulled a giggling Ariadne toward the pitch, dragging her through the stands and into the Slytherin section as punishment.
She waved to Ron and Hermione as she got pulled along, the two of them looking amused at her plight while spreading out a poster with the number seven emblazoned onto it in some kind of bright blue flame. Merlin, Hermione was handy with a charm.
They had invited her to join them at the game, of course, but Ariadne really hadn't been planning on going then. Besides, it was Harry's night. If he looked out in the crowd, he deserved to see his friends. And that wasn't her, not anymore.
At once, everyone in the Quidditch pitch seemed to get to their feet, roars growing deafening. Only the Slytherins remained seated, sullen and silent as they cheered for no one. The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor teams must have entered the field.
The rain was pouring down, but no one seemed too bothered. To Ariadne's left, Romilda and Lola were standing with their backs facing the pitch, proudly presenting the back of their robes which had been charmed to display Cedric Diggory's face fading into a yellow heart. So much for House loyalty.
The loudest cheer sounded out as the last player entered the pitch: Harry, who had become Hogwarts' most popular player by virtue of being its most talented. He paid the noise no attention, keeping his head down and focused. It was only when the noise faded that he began to search the crowd, peering through the rain. Ariadne's breath caught in her throat when his eyes seemed to find hers, but when she lifted her hand in a tentative wave, Harry quickly returned his focus to Oliver Wood. She could feel Astoria's sympathetic gaze as she swallowed.
Almost as soon as both teams took flight, Ariadne watched as Harry was bombarded by a Hufflepuff's bludger that he hadn't been able to see coming. It was impossibly dark that night, and the torrent of rain couldn't be helping, especially from so high up.
"Hermione!" Ariadne shouted, attempting to attract her bushy-haired friend's attention. But she was drowned out by both the jeers of the crowd and the heavy rain, thunder booming in the distance. Astoria gave her a curious look, and though she said nothing, Ariadne felt very foolish for even trying. He doesn't want your help, she reminded herself. He hates you.
But then Harry just barely dodged another bludger, a Gryffindor one this time, and before Ariadne could even really think about what she was doing, she found herself raising her wand slightly, keeping it shielded by her robes.
"Rictumsempra," she whispered. Ariadne watched as Hermione let out a shriek of laughter before looking around to find the caster, confusion clear on her face.
Ariadne waved rapidly in response, laughing at the utterly bewildered look on Ron's face, still confused about Hermione's sudden fit. She waved him over as well, and he quickly began to use his long, freckled arms to shove off students behind him and Hermione, allowing Ariadne to meet them halfway.
"Thanks Ron!" Ariadne yelled, holding her scarf over her head in a futile attempt to block the rain now that she was away from Astoria's umbrella.
He shrugged off the praise. "What's happened?" he asked instead. "I can't remember the last time I saw Hermione laugh like that."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I got hit with a tickling charm, Ron. By Ariadne, I'm guessing. Is everything alright?"
"I was just wondering, you know, know-it-all that you are," Ariadne nudged Hermione in the side with a playful grin that Hermione returned. "Isn't there anything that you could do for Harry? To help him see in the rain?"
Hermione knocked her forehead with the flat of her hand, a reaction comical enough that Ron instinctively glanced at Ariadne and the two choked back a laugh. "Why didn't I think of this earlier?" Hermione muttered, almost to herself, with her eyes still shut tightly. She opened her eyes and looked behind her, where Wood was calling a time out.
"You'd just need to do an Impervious," Hermione said, smiling brightly. "You could do it? I'll go with you." She reached out to grab Ariadne's arm, but Ariadne pulled away.
"I, er, don't think that I should. Don't tell him that it was my idea or anything, alright? Just– anything to help him win. I know how much they've been preparing for this game."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron caught Ariadne's eye and nudged Hermione down towards the pitch. "Go! Before the time out's over!"
Hermione looked at them both and nodded, running down to Harry with her wand out and ready.
"It's not you, y'know. He just needs time, I reckon." Ron said after Hermione was out of earshot. He looked back at Ariadne, eyes wide and voice understanding. Ariadne nodded, blinking at the uncharacteristic softness of Ron's voice. She was determined not to cry, had been determined not to cry since Halloween. But Ron reached out to give her an awkward pat on the shoulder anyway, and if he could tell the difference between tears and the rain, he was nice enough not to say anything.
A snap of lightning marked Hermione's return to the stands and Harry's return to the sky, so Ariadne nodded goodbye before walking back up the bleachers to her place at Astoria's side.
"What was that about?" Tori peered up at Ariadne from underneath her large umbrella, her dainty features soft and curious.
Ariadne only shrugged in response, gray eyes focused too intently on tracing Harry's movements in the cloudy sky to pay attention to anything else. He was acting oddly, even now that his sight was properly restored for the flying conditions. Harry had begun to fly back towards the middle of the pitch when his broom stopped in its tracks. He was tiny, a hundred yards in the air, but Ariadne could see him hunch over, staring at something intently in the stands. Had he spotted the snitch? Ariadne followed his gaze to the empty right-side of the bleachers. Only they weren't empty.
Illuminated by a flash of lighting, a massive black dog stood motionless at the top of the stands, large head trained on Harry as he moved. As if it knew exactly where she was in the stadium, the dog turned to look at her directly, tilting its head and wagging its tail at the sight of her.
Ariadne vaguely recalled spotting the outline of some kind of giant black animal outside of the Dursley's, but she hadn't gotten a good look before she'd been distracted by the arrival of the Knight Bus. She'd have to ask H–
"Do you see that?" she murmured to Astoria instead, keeping her eyes firmly on the animal.
"What?" Astoria yelled, tearing her eyes away from the match. "See what?"
Harry dropped a few meters in his distraction, refocusing Ariadne's attention to the game. When she looked back at the stands a moment later, the dog was gone.
Harry threw himself against his broom, chasing after Diggory the fastest that she'd ever seen him. Ariadne cheered him on with the other Gryffindors, too proud to stop herself even if she was the last person from whom he'd want support right now. She whooped softly, tightening her scarf around her throat as the air began to get colder. Until suddenly the cold became unbearable and the entire stadium turned eerily silent.
Not again.
Ariadne sat down shakily as the cold began to seep into her very bones and the pressure began to enter her head once more, burning and building until she thought she might die with the weight of it.
There's laughter this time. Mad, cackling laughter, shrieking out throughout the room and through the doorway where Ariadne is hiding. Her mother had told her to run, to hide. That they had been found. But Ariadne had been slow about it, for it was not the first time that her mother had panicked over nothing. She had rolled her eyes but obliged, more for the sake of appeasement than anything else. By nine, she had learned to pick her battles.
Only, Ariadne had hardly made it past the threshold into her room before the door to the flat had burst open. She pressed her back up against the wall, sucked in a breath, strained her ears to listen, and then...
"Ariadne!"
She wrenched her eyes open at the call, taking in a pale face in front of her. For the first time in her life, Astoria Greengrass was not blushing in Draco's close proximity.
"Ariadne!" Astoria repeated, concern coloring her pallid features. She was crouched down to look at Ariadne directly. Beside her was Draco, who remained standing. He did not look down at Ariadne at all, keeping his chin tilted up and his gaze surveying the other students. Checking if they had noticed the scene that she had caused.
"What was that?" Astoria asked quietly, carding shaking fingers through her own hair. No one, after all, was free from their worst memory. "What– what do you see?"
What did she see?
After the laughter, her mind was blank. There was nothing, nothing besides the laughter, the footsteps, the Obliviate.
But what was missing? What was–
"HARRY!"
Everything seemed to happen at once. Dumbledore was on his feet within seconds, shooting some sort of spell at Harry before turning his wand onto the dementors. Harry slowed, but was still falling from the sky with such speed that his body thudded audibly when it hit the ground, even though Ariadne was miles away.
He didn't get up.
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next chapter is coming very soon - like tomorrow or sunday lol so def be on the lookout.
also STOP. go up and VOTE! and leave a comment! literally what keeps me writing