Sirius was not at all pleased when a certain pelican arrived at the Potters with a note requesting Gwen's presence in Hogsmeade.
She had asked if he would be upset if she went. And he had answered yes, but told her to go anyway. He wasn't upset with her.
He was upset with the state of the world.
And while she was off spending the evening before Valentine's Day with Albus Dumbledore, Sirius had spent his with a rather large man named Rubeus Hagrid.
Sirius had never met the Hogwarts Keeper of Keys, but Hagrid explained through halfsyllable words and sheepish laughter that he'd been training in Care of Magical Creatures over the last several years. Sirius had nearly drowned in the emotional half-giants tears when he talked about what a good man Albus Dumbledore was.
Sirius wasn't so sure.
And so after leaving with a possibly broken foot from the large man's careless stomping feet, Sirius had retired to his and Gwen's room early. Sleep came easy.
The nightmares came easier.
He tosses and turns, sweating and whispering as he tries to run to a pale blue light so faint it looks almost white. Each time he gets closer, the light gets further, and tears stain his cheeks as his chest strains with exhaustion. Just as he reaches out, finally close enough to touch, he flinches at the feeling of something cold.
His brow furrows, the light and the panicky feeling from the dream fading. Drip. Drip. Something cold. Something cold and wet.
Someone saying his name.
His eyes fly open, body aching from the force of flinging himself upright. His hands reach out blindly and grab onto spindly arms as he exhales, "Gwen."
His palm burns from the frigid temperature of her skin, his eyes locked onto the pink of her cheeks and the hollow look in those familiar pale eyes. He squeezes her arm, asking quietly, "What's wrong, mon ange?"
She shakes her head, her soaking hair dull compared to its normal luster. Sirius lets go of one of her arms only to push back some of her hair from her face, leaving his palm against her cheek. His eyes flicker down to the thin line across her throat before surveying her for other injuries. She just stands at the side of the bed, body frozen and expression blank.
"Sirius," It comes out quiet, but so heavy that he feels his heart sink. Her throat bobs with a struggling swallow and he feels his own grow tight when she says just above a whisper, "You know legilimency, correct?"
His brows furrow, and he asks again, ignoring her question, "Gwenyth, what's wrong? You're fucking freezing—"
"I need you to use legilimency," She interrupts, her eyes taking on a panicked gloss that makes him incredibly nervous. Gwen didn't do panic. She was calm, reserved. Controlled. He hesitates before insisting lowly, "After you're warm."
Her shoulders shake when he grabs his wand and murmurs a rushed drying spell, pulling his shirt from his head to replace her damp one with. She comes willingly, almost too willingly, when he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her down into the bed.
He stands to strip from his pajama pants, crawling back into bed in just his briefs and again dressing her in his clothes. She shakes and shivers and he forms a seal with his mouth against her neck, gently blowing a stream of warm air onto her skin. His eyes clench shut when she shifts closer, her hands practically clawing at his back in an attempt to get closer.
"Please, Sirius," the wobble in her voice nearly makes him cry. He leans up on one arm, hovering over her to peer down into her pale eyes. Gwen blinks up at him and her still slightly purple lips barely move, "It's too risky to speak of it here. You have to see."
He nods slowly, reluctantly bringing the tip of his wand to her temple. Gwen holds on tight, eyes boring into his as he whispers nervously, "Legilimens."
Sirius is instantly hit with a sense of dread that suffocates him like a wave, his mouth opening to scream out and filling with more darkness and despair. A voiceless, bitter cry that stabs at his chest. He stares, looks at a strange woman with white eyes in front of a fireplace. While the scenery is interesting, and he can feel Gwen's urge to glance up at the portrait above the fire, it's what the strange witch is saying that holds his attention.
Sirius listens, listens as the Seer says words that build that dread until he's convinced he's dying. And then he realizes, this is Gwen. Gwen feeling this dread, Gwen listening to this prophecy that feels like death giving an unbreakable vow.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord...born to those who have thrice defied him...neither can live while the other survives...
And Sirius is forced to withstand the growing terror as Gwen turns and sprints from the room, chases after a form in a dark cloak. He's forced to feel the sting on his legs as she drops to her knees in the middle of a storm torn street. His throat feels raw when she screams, loud and painful,
Severus!
He flinches when he hurriedly withdraws from the Veela's mind, head falling forward to rest against her's. He sucks in air greedily, chest rising and falling like he was there, like he was the one running. The sound of her cry echos in his ears, his pants of air muffling the noise until he finally whispers, "Gwen. When is Alice Longbottom due?"
He feels something hot against his cheek, his heart burning when he realizes it's her tears. He leans his head back and strokes back her hair with shaky hands, inhaling the smell of jasmine as she cries below him. Silent, shaking cries. He swallows past the lump in his throat, asking firmer, "When?"
She inhales slowly, her hands gripping tight onto his arms like she's struggling to even get the words to come together. She finally exhales, "July. She's due at the end of July. Just like Lily."
Sirius curses quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He shakes his head quickly, desperate to ask more. But she was right. They couldn't talk about this here. He leans up, peering out of the crack between the curtains. The sky was turning a pale orange on the horizon, the sun saying good morning to the moon.
"Let's go," He says quietly, sitting up and pulling her up with him. She stares at him with wide eyes, and even when she was on the brink of death, he had never seen her look so shaken. So afraid. He leaves her sitting on the bed while he finds a hoodie and trousers to toss on, his feet quiet on the floor to not wake anyone. They needed to leave. They needed to go somewhere safe, somewhere where Gwen could rest and where they could speak above a whisper.
He hurriedly shoves clothes into a bag, grabbing pants and shirts for Gwen before grabbing a pair of socks and shuffling back over to her to pull them onto her feet. Next are a pair of shoes he doesn't bother tying, his feet cramming into a pair of his own trainers.
"Sirius," Her voice is urgent, still quaking under the weight of her evening. He swallows past the lump in his throat, tearing open his trunk in search of something to write on. His letters look like they're trembling too when he finishes scrawling a note, explaining that he was taking Gwen away for Valentines Day. He looks over his shoulder, insisting, "Don't move, Inferi."
He slowly opens the door to their room, just like he would when sneaking back to his and James room when Mia and Monty were still alive and Sirius was pretending that he didn't need to be curled around the Veela to sleep at night.
He leaves the note outside of James' door, clenching his jaw for a moment as he stares at the handle. He's tempted to throw it open, to tell them that they were in danger. Their baby was in danger. He turns and heads back into the room he'd left Gwen in, gently closing the door and instantly shaking his head when she murmurs worriedly, "We can't leave, Sirius."
"Yes we can," He replies firmly, "Nothing is happening yet. We need to go. We need to talk about this."
"I haven't even spoken to Albus—"
"He can wait," Sirius grits between his teeth, zipping the bag full of clothes shut and throwing it over his shoulder. He grabs Gwen's hand, and she looks up at him with tear filled eyes that hurt his soul. He exhales slowly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. He hesitates, closing his eyes briefly before admitting, "We have to be able to talk about this. Let's go, mon étoilé. It will be okay."
Gwen leans her head back, and when her hands sink into his hair, his lips find hers. Soft and warm, trembling slightly until she surges up and pulls him closer and presses her mouth firmer to his. Sirius sighs, her lips drawing a noise of adoration deep from within his chest. He weaves his fingers into her damp hair, pressing slow kisses to her lips over and over until she sighs too and whispers a little bit stronger now, "I'm ready."
Together, they hurry from the room with their hands clasped tightly around one another. Sirius pauses when a door a level above opens, holding his breath until it shuts and he hears the tap running. He ushers Gwen down the stairs two at a time, not eager for anyone to catch them in this vulnerable moment. He wasn't sure she'd be able to lie.
Not about this.
Quickening his steps through the kitchen and out to the garden, the gentle drizzles of rain look like liquid fire against her face in the dawn light. He lets go of her hand to wrap his arm tight around her shoulder, closing his eyes and picturing safety in his mind as they apparate away from the Potters. Away from London.
When their feet sink into sand and the wind whips around them, it's only then that Gwenyth Whitlock weeps freely. Her cries muffled by the crashing waves that reflect the morning sun, her tears soaking into his hoodie like the sea air that seeps into their lungs. Gwenyth cries, and Sirius holds her closer. He holds her and wishes silently that it didn't scare him more, her panic over this prophecy.
She wasn't one to panic without reason.
Sirius murmurs quietly to her, his hands rubbing up and down her back, "It's okay. It's okay, Gwen."
She trembles in his arms, insisting, "This feels bad, Sirius. This feels different."
"I know," It isn't a lie. It did feel different. Something about the dread Gwen had felt in her memories seemed resolved. Like this was the end and they could do nothing but watch. He reluctantly mumbles, "Come on. Let's get inside. You need to rest."
The journey down the dunes feels slower than normal, like the sand is pulling at their ankles, holding them and telling them that the beach is sad too. Sirius keeps Gwen tucked in close to his side. He keeps his arm around her and tries not to think about what this means. But when he looks out at the ocean, it doesn't look like a friendly greeting this time.
It looks like turbulent despair, waiting for its next victim.
{{next update won't be for about another week or so! <3}}