CHAPTER SEVENTY
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▕ grieving ▏
. . .
So this is what emptiness feels like.
An endless black pit full of nothing. Merely nothing.
Anastasia's knees dug into the cold, wet sand. It seeped through her pants and dampened the material so it clung to her clammy skin. Victoria was cradled in her arms as she wept continuously and Anastasia didn't know if it would end.
Tears pricked her eyes and they fell down her hollow cheeks but her face remained emotionless. Everyone mourned in their own way. Anastasia just decided to do it later, in private, when to shock wore off. But right now, Victoria needed her big sister and she understood that to its full extent.
She watched Ron and Hermione cling on to each other not too far in front of her. And she watched as Harry made sure that Dobby and the others were okay. They were, thank god.
Luna had knelt beside Anastasia who had her arms wrapped around Victoria. She placed a frail hand on her shoulder as her wispy blond hair whipped with the wind.
"I can take her inside," Luna whispered gently. "You don't have to do this alone, anymore. I'm here," She then gestured to Ron, Harry, and Hermione. "And they've always been there."
Anastasia didn't answer Luna. She just looked at her and as if Luna could read her mind, she gently unwrapped Victoria's arms from around her sister and helped her to her feet.
"But -- Stas --" Victoria choked out between sniffles.
"I'm fine, V. Go get warm." Anastasia mustered up a sad smile as she watched her little sister. Her bright eyes that once were filled with childish warmth were replaced with the hardships and brokenness of losing someone she loved so dearly.
Luna lovingly wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. "Come on, love."
Anastasia stared at her shaky hands which were covered in dirt, sand, and blood. Blood. Isabella's blood was embedded underneath her fingernails. She wanted to chop off her hands, starting at the wrist.
She felt nausea creep up her throat as well as a rough sob that escaped her lips. She had killed someone with her hands. Her bare hands.
She was a murderer.
She wasn't any better than her aunt or her grandmother.
Harry approached her and knelt down to her. "Hey, what's -- ?" She jerked back when his hand touched her face and she had no doubt that there were spots of blood on it. His face contorted into a confused expression and his eyes flickered to her hands.
Anastasia got to her feet and Harry mirrored her actions. "Don't touch me," She breathed shakily and Harry wanted to hug her more than anything but he stayed rooted in his place a few inches away from her.
"Love, what happened?" He asked, his voice laced with immense concern. He didn't know if the blood on her hands was hers or someone else's.
Her chin wobbled as more tears streamed down her face. "He's dead. Leo's dead. And she killed him so I --" Her voice cracked as she wept. Ron and Hermione had approached them now as well. "I killed her. I killed her because she killed him."
"What do you mean you killed her? Who did you kill?" asked Ron. Hermione wanted to punch him for asking that but her body felt weak and drained.
"Isabella." Anastasia choked out.
Harry couldn't stand just watching her and not doing anything. He hesitantly took a step forward and when she didn't flinch away he enveloped her in a tight hug, one of his hands cradling the back of her head as his other arm held her body tightly to his around her torso.
And she cried. She cried until every tear was drained out of her body and until her head pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears.
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"Ana?" The rough voice reached her ears. Her eyes dragged away from the concrete as her eyes laid upon Leo. His hair was a lot more straggly and the stubble of his face made him appear more dad-like it made her internally laugh.
Anastasia flung herself into his arms and finally broke down. Leo gently wrapped his long arm around her torso and rubbed her back.
"What's wrong, Stas? You know you can talk to me." Leo reassured in a murmur.
Anastasia jumped away, gasping for air as she sat up on the couch. Her lungs felt constricted and she felt like she was floating momentarily. Everything felt fuzzy and her heart was racing at the speed of lighting.
"Ana, you're alright. Breathe." Fleur instructed gently as she appeared at her side, and kneeled beside the couch. Her warm hand was pressed against Anastasia's back.
Anastasia began manually breathing slowly, in and out, until her body finally agreed to do it on its own. Her mind clicked and she took in her surroundings. She was in different clothes and she felt clean for once. Her hair was damp against the t-shirt she was wearing and her hands were free of the blood.
Fleur stood on her feet and glanced at Harry who had come back into the house at the sound of Anastasia waking up. "I bathed you, though I doubt you remember it, you were so out of it, darling. Are you alright?"
"I -- I'm fine," Anastasia swallowed thickly. "Where's Victoria?" She asked frantically ask she rose to her feet.
"Victoria is outside with Luna on the shore. She's finally stopped crying." Fleur caught her up. Anastasia looked over Fleur's shoulder and made eye contact with Bill who was leaning against the wall, observing them.
She looked away and finally became aware of Harry's presence as she turned around. Bill and Fleur migrated to the kitchen to give them space.
Anastasia melted into his arms as soon as they wrapped around her. She pulled away slightly, his arms still around her as she lifted herself slightly so she could press her lips against his. Her hands rested at the nape of his neck as he tilted his head down to kiss her back more comfortably.
She pulled back gently, she didn't want to, but she knew she had to due to them being close to everyone in the house. His green eyes swarmed her silver ones with pure intimacy.
"I love you." She whispered.
He smiled gently. "I love you." He whispered back.
"Gross," Ron blanched from the entrance of the living room. "Hermione's screaming her bloody head off, so if you will, Ana, go fix your friend please."
Harry had an annoyed look stowed on his face as he begrudgingly unwrapped his arms from around Anastasia. She ran a hand over his cheek gently and gave him a small smile before disappearing out of the room.
"Why would you . . . bloody insensitive git . . ." The hushed voice of Harry was heard mildly by Anastasia as she drifted farther and farther away. She knew he was grilling Ron about bothering her while she was 'fragile'.
She knocked gently on the door frame of the sitting room that could be classified as a dining room, but it was slightly smaller than a normal-sized one.
Hermione's head shot up at the sound. She was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, her hands folded tightly in front of her mouth as her left leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace. Her gaze -- before Anastasia interrupted her -- was locked on the outside scenery where it was a perfect view of Luna and Victoria sitting on the sand.
"You're alright," Hermione breathed as she barreled into her for a hug. Anastasia stumbled back a little and wrapped her arms gently around Hermione's torso since she didn't know how sore she was. "I'm sorry about Leo, he was a sweet boy."
Sweet boy was an understatement. It was a mundane expression compared to all of the extraordinary words that could describe Leo as a human being. He was the stereotypical brother that would annoy the shit out of Victoria and Anastasia, but they loved it. He would randomly mess up their hair for his pure amusement, flex randomly in their scattered mirrors in their rooms back at home, and cause food fights during family dinner, but it was just what Leo did. And they loved him endlessly for it.
She just wished she treasured it for longer than she did. His life was stripped away from him within a millisecond. No hesitation. And as his lifeless body hit the ground, Anastasia swore a piece of herself has stripped away just as easily without any hesitation.
Anastasia pulled away from the hug with glassy eyes. Hermione immediately regretted bringing him up as soon as the words left her mouth. "I am so --"
"Sorry for what?" They both sunk into the wooden chairs across from each other at the table. "You're not the one who killed him." A soft chuckle of dry amusement left her as she wiped away the fresh tears off her cheeks, which was unnecessary since more fell, replacing them.
Hermione took Anastasia's hands into her own and squeezed them gently. "Stas, I won't let you shut me out. I let you go through finding out everything from your powers, your biological family, everything you uncovered in fifth and sixth year, I left you alone. I want to be here for you during this. Please don't shut me out."
"I won't shut you out, Hermione." Anastasia said quietly as more tears spilled over the rim of her waterline. "I promise, I won't . . ." Her voice trailed off as she squeezed her eyes shut and silent sobs racked her body.
Hermione swallowed the emotion crawling at her raw throat and lifted from her seat as she went over and hugged Anastasia.
"He -- He was right there. I could've saved him. It's my fault . . . He's dead and it's my --" Hermione shushed Anastasia's dragged out words in between sobs as she rubbed her back.
It took Anastasia a good few minutes to calm down. Once she did, she stalked back to the kitchen where she found no one there but Fleur and Bill.
"'Arry and Ron 'ave gone upstairs." Fleur told Anastasia and frowned slightly when she saw her red eyes and puffy, pink, tear-stained cheeks.
"Bill, have you been in contact with anyone from the order in a while? Lily, my dads, James, Marlene . . ." Anastasia trailed off and waited for an answer.
Bill shook his head. "Not in a while, no. It hasn't been very safe. Why d'you ask?"
Anastasia flashed him the folded parchment in her hand that no one had noticed until now. Once she had calmed down from crying, she asked Hermione if she had a scarce piece of parchment in her bag, and she did. The only problem was is that she didn't have any form of writing utensil, so Anastasia had to get creative.
She had used her fingertip and a flame that she conjured up easily with her power. She had gently burned through the paper slightly as she wrote her letter. It took longer than she expected but it was halfway neat and readable, that's all that mattered to her.
"When you see them again -- and I'm positive that you will see them before I do -- give them this. Tell my dads I'm sorry, will you?" Anastasia asked -- practically pleaded Bill.
He gently took the parchment as if it was made of glass. His scarred face was dimmed with unreadable emotion. "Jesus, kid. What happened?" Bill had grown up around Anastasia. She was always so full of life, and now . . . now her kid-ish expression was replaced with something so dark and mature that even he couldn't decipher it.
"Read the letter, if you want." Anastasia shot him a look before turning around and heading upstairs to find the others.
As she made her way up, she found them huddles at the top in the dark. She stumbled a little as she almost tripped on Harry's shoe. It was so dark she couldn't tell who was where.
Harry wrapped an arm around her waist a pulled her to his side to keep her from falling. "What'd I miss?" She questioned, trying to ignore the heat that pooled in her stomach.
"Harry talked to Griphook," Hermione started in a hushed voice and then directed her next question at Harry. "Are you thinking there's a Horcrux in Bellatrix's vault?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Bellatrix was terrified when she thought we'd been inthere, she was beside herself. Why? What did she think we'd seen, what else didshe think we might have taken? Something she was petrified You-Know-Whowould find out about. I bet you anything there's a Horcrux in there, another piece of his soul. Let's find it and kill it, and then we're one step closer to killing him."
Ron cut into the conversation. "And what happens when we find it? How are we supposed to destroy it now you've given the sword to Griphook?"
Anastasia gasped quietly. "What the hell did you do?" She looked up at Harry and ignored the way her chest fluttered when his green eyes looked at her.
"It was the only way to get him to agree to sneak us into Gringotts," He explained and then turned to Ron. "I'm still working on that part."
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