"Evelyn?"
She turns from the sky to see him pushing his way out of the cell, his eyes weary and his dirty hands fidgeting. Something about looking at him was making Evelyn struggle to remember why she had neglected him all this time. It makes her eyes water.
Before either of them can say anything else, Evelyn rushes forward and runs into him. He has to step back to catch her as the girl's arms wrap around his fragile torso; he stares down at her, at the top of her head, blankly for a moment before laying into the embrace, his own tears forming quickly at the warm gesture.
The last time he hugged her she was 25 pounds, wearing a pull-up, babbling nonsense mixed with words, and had a headful of tiny black curls and a stomach full of pumpkin juice.
Now he could feel the bandages under the thin shirt she wears that are keeping her ribs in place and she smells of the infirmary wing's cleanliness and a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. Her grip was firm, so firm she was almost shaking, but she didn't care; like how she didn't care that he smelled like a dirty shoe or how his cold body was rattling and how he was basically a complete stranger to her.
She lets some of her tears fall down her cheek and onto the ragged shirt he was wearing.
Hermione and Harry looked to one another. Neither wanted to ruin the moment, but time was ticking.
Harry clears his throat, getting Sirius' attention and motioning towards Buckbeak behind him.
"Bug," Sirius pulls her off, "we have to get going if I'm to make it out of here."
She nods, wiping under her eyes as she follows him to Buckbeak. Harry gets up first, then he helps Evelyn who helps him hoist Sirius, and finally Hermione jumps on the end.
The ride back down is shorter and less intense, probably because Evelyn's focus is trained on the fact that her father was here... right in front of her.
They landed in the far North courtyard where plants grew almost vehemently out of every crack and opened crevice on sight.
They slid off of Buckbeak to give him a break, Sirius immediately drawing himself into the shadows and the three of them following.
"I'll be forever grateful for this," he says, turning to look at them. "To all of you."
"I want to come with you," Harry tells him.
"One day, perhaps," Sirius says. "You and Evelyn both— that is when my life becomes a bit more predictable... but for now you're meant to be here," he reminds them, taking one of their shoulders in either of his hands.
"But... you're innocent," Evelyn says.
Sirius grins at her. "And you know it..." He guides both of them to sit on the bench behind them while Hermione distances herself from the conversation. Evelyn and Harry sit, Sirius kneels closely in front of them. "For now, that'll do..." He keeps flicking his gaze between the two, a wave of de ja vu washing over him as their faces resonate with him. He turns to Harry for a moment, taking either sides of his face in his hands. "I expect you're tired of hearing this about now, but you look so much like your father..." He leans in a bit to Harry, the fatherly grin on his face moving the boy's heart through some level of sorrow. "Except your eyes... you have—"
"My mothers eyes," Harry finishes for him with a smile.
Sirius mirrors the upward motions of his lips, but in a more painful manner. His hands drop into his lap. "It's cruel that I got so much time with Lily and James... and you so little." He reaches up and taps Harry's chest, "but they're always in here."
Harry's smile falls more solemnly upon his face now. "Maybe one day you can tell me about them..."
"That I will..." Sirius promises. "Now... could I have a moment with my daughter?"
Harry turns his head to Evelyn. "Of course..." He stands to find Hermione and Sirius turns to face the girl looking down at him like he's a ghost.
"You look a lot like your mother," he whispers. "15 and you're already such a beautiful young woman... with some serious power, apparently."
Evelyn bites her lip nervously, her eyes still glossed with tears.
"Now, now, Bug," he reaches to cup her cheek and wipe a tear away with her thumb. "It's alright, you don't have to cry," he tells her while holding in some of his own tears.
"I'm sorry," she frets.
Sirius tilts his head at her. "For what?"
"For not wanting to know who you were... for believing this whole year that I was the child of a cold-blooded murderer," she admits. "I should have known better, nothing is ever as simple as the Ministry tells it, especially when You-Know-Who is involved."
"Oh, Evelyn," he holds her still, bringing her hesitant eyes to his. "Nothing to be sorry for. There's no way you could've known."
Evelyn nods and sniffles. She tilts her head back to stop the tears from flowing and she tries to gather herself. "Part of me knew," she tells him, bringing her head down. "I'd found this book," she tells him, "a diary by a girl who went here and she wrote about you... you and Professor Lupin and Harry's dad."
Sirius' face lights up in the immediate recognition of what dairy she's speaking of. "Lily Evans," he says.
Evelyn nods quickly, "L. Evans—" She pauses, the first name clicking. "Oh my Godrick, that's Harry's mum."
"She always had that damned thing with her... never told us what she was writing."
Evelyn smiles a little. "So that means everything she wrote is true," she proposes. "About you having a younger brother, about Lupin being my God Father?"
Sirius nods. "Remus is your God Father," he tells her. "Bastard nearly killed James for that role, but your mum quite liked Remus. They were always very sweet to one another in passing..." Then his expression drops. "As for your uncle... he passed just months after you were born."
"Oh," Evelyn breathes, "I'm sorry."
He looks up at her, "I'm sorry too... and I'm sorry for leaving you. If I'd known what would have happened—"
"It's okay," Evelyn says quickly. "James and Lily were like family to you... I know what that feels like."
"Doesn't make it any better," Sirius says. He stands and Evelyn follows. "You didn't deserve to grow up without me."
Evelyn shrugs, "I'm not done growing up."
He pulls her into a tight hug. "I guess I'll have to stick around."
+++
Walking back into the infirmary, the three are greeted by a very confused Ron and a fairly upset George.
"Where the bloody Hell were you?" George asks Evelyn.
"But," Ron's pale finger draws out to a space in the center of the room. "You were just..." An uneven pitch sounds from his throat in the midst of his babbling. "An— and now you're—"
Harry turns his head to Hermione, and Hermione's to Harry. "Do you know what he's on about?" She asks him.
Harry shrugs, "Not a clue."
George grabs Evelyn's hand and pulls her over to the nearest window. "You're fucking mental."
"Awe thanks, love you too," she scoffs. He holds her face in his hands and tilts it into the light, checking for her pupils to dilate but soon noticing their red hue and the puffy skin surrounding them with glistening lines of tears.
"You were crying," he says with a suddenly drawn down tone. He tries rubbing away one of the tear line, finding them dried to her skin. "Ev—"
"I'll tell you later," she promises with a gentle smile, something sorrowful pulling at her lips. "I'm okay... just tired."
George studies her for a second. He gets her back into the bed; shaking his head at her in the distaste of her movement, kissing her cheek once she's settled, whispering a, "You scared me," and making sure she was keeping still before leaving to get her some water.
That's when Harry sits down on the edge of it.
"You okay?" He asks.
She nods, the same soft smile pressed onto her tired face. "I'm okay... you?"
Harry copies her motions. "I'm okay."
They all fall back asleep in the infirmary. Hermione lays her head onto Ron's bed and Harry falls asleep on the bed beside his. Evelyn's quick to rest again after George forces some water down her and sits back down to lay his head on her leg again.
When it's morning again, Eleanor and Fred are the first ones to come into the wing after Madam Pomphrey.
Both George and Evelyn were still asleep, though his resting head was more so in her lap than on the side of her leg.
Fred and Nell stood at the foot of the bed and watched them breathe softly, Evelyn's hand on top of George's, while shaking their heads.
Hermione lead her way over with Harry while Ron was dead asleep on the other side of the isle.
Hermione grins. "They're so cute..."
Nell tilts her head. "Aren't they though?"
Harry squints at them, as if he's trying to see what the others mean.
"If only she was as much as a sap as he is," Fred whispers. "Make my job a lot easier..."
"Oh please," Nell scoffs, "she is... she just doesn't know it."
"Your 'job'?" Harry questions Fred.
Fred nods, waking over to stand behind his twin. "My wing man duty... it's been a pain this year, the whole Cedric fling was a bloody curve ball— but, don't you fret." He gives the group a prideful smirk. "Freddie's got next year in the bag."
"Fred," Nell gives him a disapproving look. "You can't play with our friend's love lives." Fred ignores her as he shakes his brother awake. "It's not a game."
"Ugh," George groans into the blanket. Fred pulls him up by the shoulders and makes him sit straight. "What's not a game?" George yawns.
Nell shakes her head. "Nothing. Let's get her to breakfast."
"She probably needs something to eat," Fred adds, leaning in to grab Evelyn's nose. "Wake up, Live-Wyre," he sings, shaking her head from side to side and quickly drawing her eyes open. "Wakey-wakey little weed."
She bats his hand away and rolls onto her side. "Go away, Fred," she grumbles.
"C'mon Ev," He pushes her shoulder. "Get up. Let's go get some breakfast..." He grins as he leans in. "I heard they have fresh blueberries."
Evelyn chuckles. "You're bluffing, WeaselB. Let me sleep."
George sets a hand onto her calf. "C'mon," He rattles it in its place for a short moment. "You need some food, Evie."
Instead of listening, she pulls the sheet and blanket over her head and slides down the bed, curling her small stature into a ball. "Mmmm, no."
Fred and George look at one another. Fred tilts his head, George's face drops doubtfully, Fred raises his brows in expectance... the conversation continues on for a long moment before George sighs. "I'll carry you," he offers back to Evelyn.
They wait.
She rolls over and peaks out from under the creamy-colored cotton at Fred. "did you bring me a jumper?" She asks quietly.
Fred holds the ball of knitted maroon up in his hand with a promising side grin. "Fresh from Georgie's drawer."
She sits up in the bed slowly, taking herself out from the fabric cocoon and reaching her arms out for the jumper. Fred hands it over and watches with his brother as she pulls it over her head and shakes herself awake, a large 'G' printed across her torso.
George feels his face heat at the sight of her.
She's worn his things before, but they've all been old sweat-shirts and worn jumpers that were once Bills, Charlie's and even some Percy's. This was different in a way, and it made him a little flustered.
"Let's go," George turns his back to her and she hops on. Her arms come around his neck and his lock her legs on either side of him. "I'm starved."
Evelyn chuckles, "aren't you always?"
"No," He starts off with Fred out of the infirmary. "That's Ron."
"Right," She closes her eyes and rests her head against his, "silly me."
"Get a concussion and suddenly you've got us all mixed up," Fred chides from beside Nell.
"Don't poke fun at her," Nell tells him, elbowing his side. She turns back to Hermione and Harry stood in the middle of the room. "You coming?" She asks.
Hermione shakes her head. "We'll wait for Ron to be up."
"Okay," she pushes the door open for George to follow through.
They head off to breakfast, where Evelyn leans her head on George's shoulder and thinks mindlessly on last night... the majority of it feeling like a fever-dream.
Fever-dream or not... she knows the truth, and she knows he's out there, that he cares.
And for now, that'll do...