Book: Courage
Chapter 79
Word Count: 5445
Layla didn't believe it. She wouldn't. She couldn't.
"Stop lying! Get off of me!" Layla struggled in her dad's arms, pushing him off of her. "He's not dead! Don't say that!" Her eyes flickered around frantically for any sign of Sirius' shaggy black hair, listening to see if she could hear his childish laugh. Nothing. "SIRI! SIRI, THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"
"Layla..." A quiet voice muttered. Layla turned to see Harry, tears falling freely from his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry. He's d—"
"No, he's not!" snapped Layla, but she knew that she was in denial. Deep down, she knew the truth.
There was movement going on around them, pointless bustling, the flashes of more spells. To Layla, it was meaningless noise, the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that both Remus and Harry should stop pretending that Sirius was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to re-enter the battle.
Harry tried to grab Layla's hand and drag her away from the dais, but she ripped her hand out of his grip and shoved Harry away from her.
"No... no, no," she kept repeating in disbelief, feeling as if her legs had gone numb. She stayed rooted to the spot, swaying slightly as she tried to wrap her head around the truth. "No. No, no, no..."
Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilized by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais, there were still hashes of light, grunts and cries — Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius's duel with Bellatrix.
Harry, who appeared to be in just as bad a state as Layla was in, was being comforted by Neville. Layla, however, couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't feel. She didn't feel anything. Not when the first tear fell, and definitely not when she second one followed soon after. And not before long, Layla's legs had given up beneath her and she crashed to the ground, sobs wracking her body as her heart physically ached in her chest.
"Please, Siri... please don't leave me. I can't lose you, too. Please!"
There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Kingsley hit the ground yelling in pain: Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it; she was halfway up the steps now—
"Harry — no!" cried Remus, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip.
"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM — I'LL KILL HER!"
And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches.
"Harry," whispered Layla, stumbling to her feet and steadying herself. "Harry!"
She ran after him up the stone benches, avoiding Remus' arms as he tried to stop his daughter from getting herself killed. But no matter how angry she was at Harry, she couldn't let him walk right up to death's door by going after Bellatrix.
"Harry, stop!" screamed Layla, quickening her pace as she wiped her damp cheeks.
The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming...
She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Layla gripped the back of Harry's robes and yanked him backwards out of the way. The brains slipped and slid over them and began spinning their long colored tentacles, but Layla shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and they flew off them up into the air.
Slipping and sliding, Harry ran on towards the door; he leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, "Harry — what—?" and past Ron and Hermione, who were both still unconscious.
"Harry! You're gonna get yourself killed!" Layla sprinted after him again. Ginny yelled after her in confusion but Layla was too focused on getting Harry.
Harry had wrenched open the door into the circular black hall, Layla catching up to him, and they saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room; beyond her was the corridor leading back to the lifts.
Harry ran, but she had slammed the door behind her and the walls were already rotating. Once more, Layla and Harry were surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.
"Where's the exit?" he shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to a halt again. "Where's the way out?"
"Harry, stop being an absolute idiot!" Layla yelled angrily.
"Why do you care?" Harry shot back angrily, taking Layla a little bit by surprise.
"I've always cared, Harry, even if I hate you more and more each minute!" screamed Layla. "Especially after today! If you hadn't let Voldemort get inside your mind, Siri wouldn't have died! It's your fault that he did!"
"What...?" Harry froze, hurt and guilt washing over him as he stared at Layla, who immediately regretted what she'd just said.
The door right behind them suddenly flew open and the corridor towards the lifts stretched ahead of him, torch-lit and empty.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," said Harry quietly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean th— Harry, stop!" exclaimed Layla, but Harry had already sprinted towards the door. He tried to close the door before Layla could get through but she'd reached it just in time.
Layla chased after Harry, who had swung around the corner and slammed his fist on to the button to call a second lift. It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked 'Atrium'. Layla made it inside the lift just as the doors slid shut and he was rising.
"You should try harder than that if you want to get rid of me," Layla rolled her eyes. "Grow up, Harry. Revenge isn't your style."
"It is now," said Harry, forcing his way out of the lift before the grilles were fully open. Layla sighed and followed.
Bellatrix was almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as Harry sprinted towards her and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren: the spell zoomed past him and towards Layla, who ducked, and it hit the wrought gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. Bellatrix had stopped running. Harry was crouched behind the statues and had pulled Layla down beside him.
"Come out, come out, little Harry!" she called in her mock baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"
"I am!" shouted Harry.
"Aaaaaah... did you love him, little baby Potter?"
Harry flung himself out from behind the fountain and raised his wand angrily, but no words left his mouth, causing Bellatrix to smirk.
"Aw, ickle Potter is too soft to hurt me. What a shame. All because I killed poor old Sirius Black. He had it coming."
"Harry might be soft," Layla stood up, making herself known as she shrugged. "But I'm not."
Anger and hatred flooded through her as she raised her wand towards Bellatrix, whose face had immediately dropped. Layla's wand hand shook slightly in rage.
"Crucio," she whispered softly, but that was all it took.
Bellatrix screamed: the spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing. Layla dodged behind the golden fountain again, yanking Harry down with her. Bellatrix's counter-spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.
"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, girl?" she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. "You need to mean them, young witch! You need to really want to cause pain — to enjoy it — righteous anger won't hurt me for long — I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson—"
Layla was edging around the fountain on the other side when Bellatrix screamed, "Crucio!" and she was forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, span off and landed with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head.
"Children cannot win against me!" Bellatrix cried.
Layla could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of the two youngsters. "I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little children, can never hope to compete"
"Stupefy!" yelled Harry. He had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain. She reacted so fast he barely had time to duck.
"Protego!"
The jet of red light, his own Stunning Spell, bounced back at him. Layla had to grip the back of Harry's robes and pull him out of the way of the spell.
"Idiot," she hissed at him with a roll of her eyes as one of the goblin's ears went flying across the room.
"Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix. "Give me the prophecy — roll it out towards me now — and I may spare your life!"
"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry roared. "And he knows! Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"
"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.
"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, then?"
"LIAR!" she shrieked, but Layla could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! Accio prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"
"Nothing there!" Harry shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that!"
"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED -— DO NOT PUNISH ME!"
"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Harry. "He can't hear you from here!"
"Can't I, Potter?" said a high, cold voice. Layla froze, inhaling sharply.
Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring... Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at both Layla and Harry who both stood frozen, quite unable to move. It was the first time Layla had laid eyes on the great Dark Lord. His appearance was much more terrifying than she had always imagined.
"So, you smashed my prophecy?" said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. "No, Bella, he is not lying... I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind... months of preparation, months of effort... and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again."
"Master, I am sorry I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. "Master, you should know—"
"Be quiet, Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?"
"But Master — he is here — he is below—"
Voldemort paid no attention.
"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"NO!" Layla screamed, reaching for her wand, but there was no need.
The headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth to land with a crash on the floor between Harry and Voldemort. The spell merely glanced off its chest as the statue flung out its arms to protect Harry.
"What—?" cried Voldemort, staring around. And then he breathed, "Dumbledore!"
Layla looked behind her. Dumbledore was standing in front of the golden gates.
Voldemort raised his wand and another jet of green light streaked at Dumbledore, who turned and was gone in a whirling of his cloak. Next second, he had reappeared behind Voldemort and waved his wand towards the remnants of the fountain. The other statues sprang to life. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix, who screamed and sent spells streaming uselessly off its chest, before it dived at her, pinning her to the floor. Meanwhile, the goblin and the house-elf scuttled towards the fireplaces set along the wall and the one-armed centaur galloped at Voldemort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool. The headless statue thrust both Layla and Harry backwards, away from the fight, as Dumbledore advanced on Voldemort and the golden centaur cantered around them both.
"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," said Dumbledore calmly. "The Aurors are on their way."
"By which time I shall be gone, and you will be dead!" spat Voldemort. He sent another killing curse at Dumbledore but missed, instead hitting the security guard's desk, which burst into flame.
Dumbledore flicked his own wand and this time, Voldemort was forced to conjure a shining silver shield out of thin air to deflect it. The spell, whatever it was, caused no visible damage to the shield, though a deep, gong-like note reverberated from it — an oddly chilling sound.
"You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. "Above such brutality, are you?"
"We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk towards Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. "Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit."
"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldemort.
"You are quite wrong," said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks. "Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness."
Another jet of green light flew from behind the silver shield. This time it was the one-armed centaur, galloping in front of Dumbledore, that took the blast and shattered into a hundred pieces, but before the fragments had even hit the floor, Dumbledore had drawn back his wand and waved it as though brandishing a whip. A long thin flame flew from the tip; it wrapped itself around Voldemort, shield and all. For a moment, it seemed Dumbledore had won, but then the fiery rope became a serpent, which relinquished its hold on Voldemort at once and turned, hissing furiously, to face Dumbledore.
Voldemort vanished; the snake reared from the floor, ready to strike.
There was a burst of flame in midair above Dumbledore just as Voldemort reappeared, standing on the plinth in the middle of the pool where so recently the five statues had stood.
"Look out!" Harry yelled.
Another jet of green light flew at Dumbledore from Voldemort's wand and the snake had struck.
Fawkes swooped down in front of Dumbledore, opened his beak wide and swallowed the jet of green light whole: he burst into flame and fell to the floor, small, wrinkled and flightless. At the same moment, Dumbledore brandished his wand in one long, fluid movement — the snake, which had been an instant from sinking its fangs into him, flew high into the air and vanished in a wisp of dark smoke; and the water in the pool rose up and covered Voldemort like a cocoon of molten glass.
For a few seconds Voldemort was visible only as a dark, rippling, faceless figure, shimmering and indistinct upon the plinth, clearly struggling to throw off the suffocating mass.
Then he was gone and the water fell with a crash back into its pool, slopping wildly over the sides, drenching the polished floor.
"MASTER!" screamed Bellatrix.
Sure it was over, sure Voldemort had decided to flee, Layla made to run out from behind the statue guard, but Dumbledore bellowed: "Stay where you are! Both of you!"
For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Layla could not see why: the hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue, and the baby phoenix Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor.
"Kill me now, Dumbledore..."
Layla jumped. That was Voldemort speaking, but Voldemort was nowhere in sight. The voice was coming from right beside Layla. Harry... it was as if Voldemort was possessing him.
"Harry?" murmured Layla. "Potter, snap out of it."
But when Harry spoke again, it was Voldemort still controlling him.
"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy..."
Suddenly, it all stopped. Harry was lying face down on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering. He put his glasses on as Dumbledore walked over.
"Are you all right, Harry?"
"Yes," said Harry, shaking violently. "Yeah, I'm — where's Voldemort, where — who are all these — what's—"
The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. Layla saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.
"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"
"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard — here — here! — in the Ministry of Magic! — great heavens above — it doesn't seem possible — my word — how can this be—?"
"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore — apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realized he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipper-clad feet left the floor) — "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."
"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. "You — here — I-I—" He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"
"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men — and win, again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time — you listened to sense!"
"I — don't — well—" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well — Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see... Dumbledore, you — you will need to tell me exactly — the Fountain of Magical Brethren — what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered.
"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry and the other children back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.
"Harry — Harry Potter?"
Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry.
"He — here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry. "Why — what's all this about?"
"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry and his friends are back at school." He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more.
"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Layla and Harry carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister for Magic, you — you—"
His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.
"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you..." Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it... "half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."
Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair.
"I — you—"
Dumbledore turned his back on him.
"Take this Portkey, you two."
He held out the golden head of the statue and both Layla and Harry placed their hands on it.
"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly. "One... two... three..."
Layla felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind her navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath her feet; the Atrium, Fudge, and Dumbledore had all disappeared and she was flying forwards in a whirlwind of color and sound.
Layla's feet hit solid ground; her knees buckled a little and the golden wizard's head fell with a resounding dunk to the floor. She stumbled sideways right into Harry, who steadied her. Layla shot him a glare and pushed him away from her.
She looked around and saw that they had arrived in Dumbledore's office.
Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the Headmaster's absence. The delicate silver instruments stood once more on the spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenely. The portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of the picture. Layla looked through the window. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon: dawn was approaching.
Layla and Harry were both silent as they looked around. The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, was unbearable to both of them but neither knew what to say to the other. They were both heartbroken over Sirius.
A picture behind her gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah... Harry Potter..."
Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry out of shrewd, narrow eyes.
"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" said Phineas eventually "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me..." He gave another shuddering yawn. "Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"
Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead.
A few more of the portraits had stirred now. Terror of being interrogated made Layla stride across the room and seize the doorknob.
It would not turn. They were shut in.
"I hope this means," said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmaster's desk, "that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?"
Harry nodded as Layla tugged again on the doorknob, but it remained immovable.
"Oh good," said the wizard. "It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed." His eyes locked on Harry only. "Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know. Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem."
The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making Layla leap away from the door, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.
"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.
He did not look at Layla or Harry at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.
"Layla," said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, "you may head back to your dormitory."
"But what about the others? Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Neville," said Layla. "Are they okay?"
"Not to worry, Miss Lupin, none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events. Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up. Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems she will make a full recovery," said Dumbledore. "Now, please go and get some rest while I have a word with Harry. You may visit your friends in the morning."
Dumbledore raised his wand towards the door and it finally opened at last. Layla took one last look at Dumbledore, then the portraits, and then Harry, before turning and leaving the office.
She walked through the halls all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts colliding with each other. Of Sirius, of Bellatrix, of Harry...
It was Harry's fault. It was... but then why didn't Layla blame him? She didn't want to blame him. But Sirius died for nothing.
Layla didn't want to lose anyone else. She couldn't cope. Her mom, Cedric, Sirius... who was next? Who else would have to die for nothing?
But it wasn't Harry's fault. None of it was. Cedric and Sirius' deaths were all because of Voldemort.
As Layla barged into the common room, relieved to see that it was empty, she paced in front of the fire.
A billion thoughts continued to blur through her mind as she began to think of the person she had become over the last year.
"Shut the hell up, freak!"
"Who the hell would be caught wearing something like that?"
"Don't you dare say a word about my dad! If he still worked here, he'd have you out of your job in a second!"
"I am when I want to be. Only to people who deserve it."
"Karma will find her. And if it doesn't, I will. I've had enough of her twisted games. She can rot in hell."
"That bitch is dead."
"I'm not a child in need of protecting."
"Stop being such a pussy."
"Well, if you keep blabbering on about me, I'll do a lot worse to you."
"You ugly old cow!"
"I'm so tempted to cast reducio on their dicks."
"Mention him again and I'll drown you in the Black Lake."
"This is who I am, can't you just accept that and let me be me?"
"You better not be lying about Siri, or I swear to Merlin, I will send you right down to hell."
"If you hadn't let Voldemort get inside your mind, Siri wouldn't have died! It's your fault that he did!"
All of the words soared through Layla's head. The words that seemed so out-of-character for her. The words that the new Layla took pleasure in saying. But she didn't like that version of herself anymore.
She didn't want to be mean, or angry, or so cruel anymore. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that. She'd wished she had made Cedric proud, but she failed him... she turned into the worst version of herself, and she wondered if Cedric would be disappointed in her. But she was going to make things right. She was going to be herself again.
Knocking her out of her thoughts, the portrait swung open and Harry walked through the portrait hole, halting in his tracks when his eyes landed on Layla.
"Harry..."
"Hi, Layla..."
"I..." Layla drew in a slow breath as she stared at Harry. "I don't want to be angry anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"I-I blamed you for Cedric's death. For a year. A whole year of time, laughs, memories we could've had together, wasted. And..." Layla hesitated, "a part of me wanted to blame you for Sirius' death, too."
"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had—" Harry went to say, but Layla cut him off.
"Wait until I'm done speaking."
"But you're not wrong," Harry still continued. "If I hadn't thought Sirius was in the Department of Mysteries, he wouldn't have come to save us all and he'd still be alive—"
"Harry, listen to me!" snapped Layla, raising her voice slightly, and Harry quickly shut up. "W-when I saw Sirius die, when I saw the life leaving his body, a part of me thought of killing you. Two words and no one else would have to die because of you. That might sound harsh, very harsh, because it's supposed to sound harsh. But it's the brutal truth. But the reason I didn't do anything to you isn't because I still care about you. I do, a lot, but... right as I was reaching for my wand, my anger towards you through the roof, you were already running after Bellatrix and... you were a mess. Worse than I was when I lost Cedric. I'd never seen you look so heartbroken before. And then I just stopped and it was like everything froze. I remembered back to last year, seeing you cry in a similar way over Cedric, and I realised something."
"What did you reali—"
"Shut up and listen," said Layla, rolling her eyes. "I realised that I was blaming you for something you had no control over. At all. I could see that you felt so guilty over Cedric, and even more guilty over Sirius, and I realised that I must have made you feel so much worse by blaming you, too. I was scared, hurt... but above all else, I was angry. Like, angrier than I thought possible. A blazing hot rage had taken over me and I was ready to kill anyone who had taken Cedric away from me. And then you came along with your confession and I had the perfect opportunity to lash out. So, I took it. That was the biggest mistake of my life. In the process, I not only lost Cedric, but I lost you. And now, Sirius, too. I'm done blaming innocent people. I can't lose anyone else, especially not you. You mean the world to me, Harry, and I am so sorry I haven't been showing you just how much I care about you and love you with all of my heart. You are my best friend, through thick and thin, and I want to be there for you. I realised today that I didn't just lose Sirius, but you did, too. I hope you don't make the same mistake I did as I'm going to ask you... do you forgive me?"
"Of course I do. Layla, I've been waiting for this moment all year," Harry immediately replied.
Layla could feel her walls breaking inside as tears began falling from her eyes once more. Her mind focused on Sirius, and how he had wanted Layla and Harry to make up all year. Layla's body shook with sobs as she practically jumped into Harry's arms, clinging onto him tightly, her legs wrapping around his waist. Harry caught her and held her close, tears welling up in his own eyes as his mind, too, flashed to Sirius.
"I've missed you, Lays."
"I've missed you, too, Harry. We'll get through this just like we always do. Together."
"Through thick and thin."