• Serena Black •
"If nothing saves us from death,
may love at least save us from life."
The next few days flew by and the day of her return to Hogwarts drew ever closer. Serena seemed to be like the others in this respect, because as long as Umbridge was in charge of their school, no one wanted to go back.
Her father also seemed to be getting worse every day and he was hiding away in his bedroom more and more often. Serena couldn't blame him because she didn't even like Grimmauld Place when it was full to the brim with people.
Night had already fallen and the Gryffindor was already lying in her bed when she suddenly had an idea. She still seemed to be running on the spot when it came to the supposed family secret. But one person, who was probably no less involved in the whole thing, hadn't asked her yet and was completely within her reach; her grandmother.
This idea was risky, Serena knew. After all, it was the middle of the night and she didn't want Walburga Black to wake up the whole house with her screaming. But that didn't deter her from her plan, because this was her last night in the Blacks' old house.
She carefully peeled herself out of bed and tried to sneak out of the room as quietly as a cat, because as far as Serena could tell, her cousin was sleeping peacefully in her bed.
The rotten steps of the old staircase creaked with every step she took, but fortunately not loud enough to cause a stir. Serena would not be so lucky in the entrance hall. It was so sparsely lit that she promptly tripped over something she didn't recognise and a clattering noise probably woke up the whole house at that moment.
Serena's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she silently cursed to herself. As she did so, she could see two eyes scrutinising her from the wall with an icy gaze. "A Black should be skilful, elegant and not stumble over doorsteps."
Serena grimaced. She was about to say something in reply or at least ask one of the questions that had been bothering her for months, but a sudden glare made her squint.
"Serena?" Her father had poked his head through the door leading to the parlour and looked at her in astonishment. He was still wearing his everyday clothes and Serena could smell the pungent odour of firewhiskey.
"I couldn't sleep," she mumbled and realised with satisfaction that that wasn't even a lie. He scrutinised her briefly before sighing, "Me neither. Why don't you come in for a minute?"
All that was left of the previously crackling fire in the fireplace was a half-extinguished ember that crackled now and again. Serena sat down on the battered armchair, the springs of which had slipped out of place. She couldn't help but notice her father trying to discreetly push the bottle of high-proof alcohol behind the armchair.
"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to manage a smile. "That's what she always said to Regulus and Tonks, too."
Serena took a moment to realise what he meant and silently pulled her legs up onto the seat to sit cross-legged. Her father, meanwhile, had turned his gaze to the remaining embers in the fireplace, which cast shadows on his tired face. In moments like these, Serena could see how much the last few years had taken out of him.
"What happened to him?" she asked quietly, hoping that it wasn't the wrong thing to ask at a time like this. But he hadn't made a move and was still staring into the orange remnants of the fireplace as if hypnotised, "I think he got cold feet. But once you get involved with people like that, it's to the death. They would never have let him go alive and he knew it."
At this reply, they both fell silent for a while. Without realising it, Serena had touched her necklace with the purple tanzanite and was turning the pendant between her fingertips, lost in thought. Was Hall one of those people? She didn't know how deeply he was involved in his family's machinations and didn't want to. He wouldn't have the slightest chance of resisting anyway. Even if his views were different.
"If you like, we can practise a little duelling again tomorrow," her father finally broke the silence and this time looked directly at her with his grey eyes.
"Weren't you the one who said that holidays were for relaxing?" Serena asked, grinning slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from the previous topic. However, the smile froze on her lips just as quickly when she noticed the deadly serious expression on her counterpart's face.
The usual mischievous twinkle had gone out of his grey eyes, as had the embers in the fireplace, "There will be times when I or Remus or someone else won't be there to protect you."
Serena had to swallow at this statement, which she hadn't expected at that moment. The war that would soon be knocking on her door had made her aware of this thought, but hearing it spoken was something else.
"It feels like it did back then," he continued slowly. "And I won't deny that I think war is imminent. In these times, your attacker will have no regard for you. He will fight for his life and try to end yours. When that happens, I want you to be perfectly trained to save yourself or possibly others."
Perhaps the alcohol was to blame for her father's dark thoughts, Serena couldn't say for sure. What she could say, however, was that these words got deep under her skin. She nodded hesitantly and was sure that she would probably not get any more sleep that night.
The January morning was icy and grey. Lost in thought, Serena poked at her breakfast. As expected, she had been awake for a few more hours, so dark circles under her eyes were now visible on her pale skin.
She flinched in shock as one of the remaining Christmas crackers exploded right next to her. The baked beans on her fork were flung across the table by the sudden movement of the piece of cutlery. Someone cried out before the group fell silent and several pairs of eyes rested on Serena.
Ron was the first to snort and point at George, whose face was bathed in beans. "Oops," Serena said, embarrassedly joining in with the laughter that now filled the room.
"Maybe I should sit further away from you in future," laughed George, wiping his freckled face with his server.
"I'd still find ways to meet you," Serena replied with a grin and also reached for her serving dish to wipe away the mess on the tablecloth. The laughter had died down again by now and Mrs Weasley had quickly cleaned up the biggest stains with a quick wave of her wand. "Thank you, I'm so sorry," Serena murmured guiltily.
"Oh, never mind, dear," said the mum-of-two and scurried into the kitchen.
"You've still got something on your jumper." Serena remarked and began to wipe the large stain of tomato sauce from the blue jumper that the twin had received from her mother every year with her serving dish.
George shook his head in mock indignation. "The good new jumper."
Before Serena knew it, she was standing in the entrance hall in the early afternoon with her suitcase packed and wrapped up in her scarf and coat, ready to leave. The travelling knight would take them all safely to the gates of Hogwarts, accompanied by Tonks and Remus.
"Take care of yourself," her father murmured, pulling her into a long hug. Serena nodded and was about to say something back, but her godfather had already hurried her into the front garden.
The door of number twelve slammed shut behind her and she followed the others down the stairs. Harry walked beside her and seemed to keep turning nervously towards the disappearing house. "Are you okay?" Serena asked hesitantly.
He looked down at the floor before finally speaking up, "Somehow I have a bad feeling about leaving Sirius."
She felt goose bumps forming on her body and knew that it wasn't because of the cold of winter. She also glanced back, but the terraced house had already disappeared.