Dear Mom,
Things are good here. Not great, but my classes are going pretty well and I've met up with my friends again.
Sirius let his hair grow long. I've seen that enough times to know that he's taking what happened at his house hard. He just feels really guilty... I promised I wouldn't tell anybody about anything I saw there, and I keep to my promises. But I can tell you that something happened, and it wasn't...pleasant. Not for me, anyway.
I wish I could see you. I need somebody to talk to. And I don't feel like I can write about it because recently they've been checking everyone's letters to make sure they're not in contact with the "Dark Lord." I can't really understand why, though. It's not like anyone in Gryffindor is going to be one of his followers.
But like I said, I just wish I had somebody to talk to. Sirius has been sort of distant for the past week, like he's always thinking. He hasn't gotten into any trouble at all! I'm sure this'll pass, but I'm just getting worried, you know?
Everybody else is worried, too. I can tell. James the most, I think, because he keeps trying to smuggle him some chocolate, but Sirius keeps refusing it. It's always worked before, so I can't understand why he won't take it.
Please write back soon. I'm desperate to know how things are going back home, because, now that I think about it, things haven't been that good here at all.
Rowan
Dear Dromeda,
I don't know where you are or how you're doing or if this will even get to you. But I feel I at least have to try.
I know you can't risk writing back to me... we figured that out a long time ago. But if you do get this, you should know that your family-our family-is still exactly the way you left it. They still hate Muggles, and Muggle-borns, and half-bloods, and anything that isn't what they consider "pure." Rowan-you remember her, right?-was sort of shaken by them. I took her home after dinner and she didn't want me to leave, and I couldn't tell if it was because she was upset or she thought that I was upset. I think it was both, because there were tear marks all the way down her cheeks. I feel awful about even bringing her to that blasted reunion...
I wish I could see you. You know how after every reunion, you, Uncle Cygnus, Aunt Druella, Bella, Narcissa and that boy she brought-Lucius or something like that-all stayed the night? Well, they still do that. And then they stayed another night. And then another. Regulus loved it, but honestly, I think if they'd stayed one more night I would've escaped to the Potters's place. But they did leave, three days after the "party."
Life sucks without you. It really does. And I don't feel like I can talk to anybody right now, because Rowan's been sort of distant lately, and I don't want anybody else to know what happened yet. Not yet.
Sirius
"Hey, Lily," Rowan greeted gloomily. She was sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, staring at the fire, seeing dancing figures in its bright orange flames.
"Hey," Lily greeted in response. She was much happier than usual, Rowan noticed, but maybe that was just because she was much more downcast than usual. "Guess what?"
"What?" she asked, trying to make herself sound interested as she pried her eyes from the fire.
"I think I know how Severus is doing it," she said, "I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but I know who he's going to for help! And this time I'm positive!"
This time she was interested. She bounced out of her seat and faced her friend, boring her eyes intently into Lily's, and demanded, "Who?"
"That substitute for the D.A.D.A. teacher," she replied, "He's been here since the beginning of the year, and no one will tell us where our real teacher went, and he's telling Severus what books he has to look up in order to 'invent new spells,' and he's signing the slips to get him into the restricted section."
"Why in the bloody Hell would he do that?"
"He thinks he's finally touched a student or something," Lily responded disgustedly, "So much that that particular student is so interested in something that he's coming to him to ask for help. Personally, I think that's a load of-"
"I've got to tell Sirius!" Rowan exclaimed, racing away from the couch, leaving Lily standing there alone, still staring at the fire in shock.
Rowan stared around the common room quickly, and then spotted James lying on an armchair, his legs hanging over the rest, his wand out, levitating the stolen, shrunken quaffle up and down, over and over with the most bored expression on his face she'd ever seen before.
"James!" she called. His head jerked up so fast that he lost his balance on the chair and fell off with a disgruntled yelp of surprise. He popped back up a moment later, dark hair having fallen into his face, and yelled, "Yeah?"
She rushed over to him, offered her hand to pull him up, and demanded, "Where's Sirius?"
"Uh..." He scratched his head and looked up at the ceiling, thinking hard. "I think he said he was going to take a walk on the stairs."
She looked at him with an expression so confused, he had to hold back laughter. "I think he had a letter to read," he explained, "And it's too cold outside, and the library's too quiet-"
"Isn't that what he'd want when he was trying to read?" she asked, "Peace and quiet and sanctity?"
"Nah," he said, "I know for a fact that he would hate to be stuck in a quiet place alone to read. He needs the noise, otherwise he gets real restless."
"Okay..." she muttered, "I'll just have to take your word for it." At that she turned around and hurried out the portrait, James hollering after her, "You're welcome!"
Just outside the portrait of the Fat Lady in her pink silk dress, she took two large steps to the rail and leaned over it, staring down at the many, ever-changing staircases, trying to seek out an untidy, jet black head among the mass of students.
Then she spotted one, waiting for the staircase to change in an archway on the fifth floor.
Her heart suddenly pounding in her ears, she pushed herself away from the railing and rushed down the stairs, eager to tell of what she'd heard.
Watching the head, it started moving.
Crap.
It was too noisy to call to him, and she was too far away for him to see her waving. She had to hurry, or else she'd lose him.
Hurrying, however, was extremely difficult.
Students were dawdling, obviously not caring about the people trying to get somewhere behind them. She forgot about the trick steps, which her feet proceeded to sink through.
Soon the head had made its way to the third floor, where it stopped abruptly. Normally Rowan would've wondered what possessed him to do that, but she was only one flight of stairs up at that point.
"Hey!" she called as she reached the floor, racing up to him. For some reason he seemed a lot smaller...
She grasped his shoulder, breathless. He swung around swiftly, like he was afraid of whoever was touching him. She noticed the green and silver tie he was wearing.
What?
"Rowan!" Regulus Black yelped in surprise, "What the he-"
"Where's Sirius?" she demanded, cutting him off, not letting go of his shoulder. She was suddenly very annoyed at the resemblance between the Black brothers.
"What?" he asked incredulously, trying to shake off her grip, unsuccessfully, "I don't know! How should I know?"
"Did you see him?" she asked, leaning in a little closer, staring into his eyes, willing him to understand the importance of the situation.
"Yeah," he replied, "He practically attacked me!"
"What?" she asked, disbelieving.
"He grabbed my arm when I was walking up the stairs and asked if I'd seen you," he explained, annoyed, "And in the process he nearly pulled it out of its socket, and dragged me down the stairs."
"And what did you tell him?" she questioned, ignoring the last part.
"I told him," he said like he was talking to a deranged child, "That I hadn't seen you and I didn't plan on it."
"Did he mention where he was going?"
"No," he replied, "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"
"No, what makes you say that?"
"Seriously?"
She stared for a moment before grasping his other arm and forcing him to look at her. "Did you see where he was headed?" She asked this very slowly, as if nothing she was saying was getting through to him.
"Sure. He was just walking randomly down some corridor, looked like he was holding a piece of parchment."
"What floor?"
"Fifth."
"Thank you, Regulus." He looked shocked to realize that she sounded actually sincere when she said it. Maybe she really wasn't that bad after all, but she did ask way too many questions.
He watched as she let go of his arms and raced away, back up the stairs. She seemed to sink about an inch, and she screamed something he'd rather not repeat. Then she collected herself again and continued to run.
"She is so weird," he said to his friends as he turned back to them, "I honestly don't know what my brother sees in her. I swear, someday she's going go completely insane."
"Sirius!" Rowan practically screamed as she saw him sitting down on a step halfway down the corridor, "Sirius!"
He looked up at her coming towards him and slipped several pieces of parchment into the pocket of his cloak.
"Hey," he greeted, "What's up?"
"Lily...just talked to me..." Rowan panted, short of enough breath to get the words out correctly.
"Oh, yeah?" he said, "That's a real shocker. 'Cause, you know, you two never talk to each other. Like, ever."
She glared at him, having got some air into her lungs. "Don't get sarcastic with me," she warned, "Or I won't tell you what she found out about Snape."
He perked up a bit. "Sorry. What'd she say?"
"She said that the substitute for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Mints or something like that, he's signing slips for him to get into the restricted section, and he's telling him what books to look at," she explained, "And by the way, that was a crappy apology."
"I'm very sorry," he said expressionlessly, "So we have to talk to Professor Mice-"
"Minks," she corrected, then adding unsurely, "I think."
"Whatever. We have to figure out what Professor Minko-"
"Mimbo," she corrected again, adding just as unsurely as the last time, "I think."
"What. Ever. We have to figure out what Professor What's-his-face is telling old Snivelly."
"We can go right now," she suggested, "He's probably still in the room, cleaning up after that lesson."
"Oh yeah," he murmured, "That was a good lesson." He chuckled darkly.
"It would've been more amusing for the rest of us if they'd caught the person-or persons-who did it," she said, "And I think we all knew who it was. How stupid can that poor old man be?"
"Apparently incredibly," Sirius replied, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.
Exasperatedly, she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him closer to the wall, and whispered, "You should turn yourselves in."
"Why on Earth would I do that?" he asked, mock shock in his tone.
"Maybe because it's the right thing to do?"
He thought about it, smiled, and said, "Never."
"You're impossible."
"I love you, too, honey."
She glared at him for a split second before sighing, turning around, and walking toward the changing stairs.
He followed after her, catching up quickly, and asked, "What is it with you and practical jokes, really? You never cared this much when you were part of it."
"Yes, Sirius, I didn't care when I was part of it because I was eleven."
"So were the rest of us," he pointed out, "And now we're all fifteen, and you are the only one who cares at all."
"I should mention that Remus and Peter aren't getting into half as much trouble as you and James are these days," she snapped, "So maybe they do care a little bit."
He was silent for a moment before exclaiming, "Nah!"
She rolled her eyes, and he quickly added, "Moony just-so-happened to pick classes that swamp him with homework, and Wormtail...well, he's fascinated by watching rather than doing."
As he said this, they passed a group of Hufflepuff girls, who stared at Sirius as they walked by.
Rowan glared at them.
They returned the glare.
Sirius didn't seem to notice.
She stepped onto one of the changing stairs, thinking he was directly behind her, when it lurched undesirably. She lost her balance and desperately grabbed for the railing, trying to catch herself before she fell flat on her face.
She felt a sturdy hand grab her arm, probably also trying to catch his balance, and almost immediately let go again. They were the only two on that certain staircase, so she assumed it was Sirius, until she realized that the hand had grabbed her arm from in front of her, while Sirius should've been behind her.
She looked up and found her face inches from light grey eyes hidden under dark hair. The boy backed away swiftly, his cheeks flushing angrily.
"Why is it," he asked, his voice shaking with what was either rage, fear or humiliation, "That almost every time we meet, one of us is clutching at the other?"
"I don't know," she replied, holding onto the railing for support, "I honestly haven't the slightest idea."
Regulus seemed petrified as he waited for the stairs to get to the next platform, and stepped off, stumbling a bit before rushing down a corridor.
Rowan, a little dizzy, staggered onto the platform and, with two short strides, reached the cold, stone wall. She turned around, leaned against it, and began to search for Sirius, who she found a flight of stairs above her, looking down at her sort of worriedly.
The staircase changed back, and he quickly made his way down back to her, his eyes narrowed, and asked, "What did he want?"
"Nothing," she replied, "Just that we stop meeting up like that."
He contemplated her suspiciously.
She sighed. "Every time I see him, we're literally ramming into each other and honestly neither of us like it that much."
He continued to gaze at her, until finally, frustrated, she demanded, "Why are you staring at me?"
"I'm deliberating the contingency that you're being honest," he replied, "Or if you're attempting to delude me from the real issue."
"Too many big words," she muttered, "I'm telling you the truth, and that's the end of it. And now, we're going to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where we're going to ask Professor Mingleburger-"
"Mince," he corrected, "I think."
"Whatever. We're going to ask him why he's giving a... particular student certain information on inventing spells."
"Other than the fact that he's an idiot," Sirius mumbled.
Against her will, she smiled, but tried to hide it behind her hand.
"Come on," she said, her voice muffled by her palm, "We'd better hurry or he'll leave his office before we get there."
Down the next flight of stairs and through a short corridor, they quickly arrived at the door to the D.A.D.A. classroom, through which they heard two voices.
"It's not good enough," one voice complained, "It's not nearly what I wanted it to be; it can't do what I want it to do!"
"All you have to do, my boy," the other voice, presumably the professor, replied, "Is make your emotions stronger, make them more evident, and then you will have a top notch spell on your hands. And it won't work for anyone else until it's all on paper, so you have all the time in the world to perfect it. Now, be a good man and help your professor clean this mess up."
"But I-"
"All I'm asking is that you help me clean up just a little bit, after all I've done for you, and you won't do just that little bit?"
There was a silence, a sigh, and then a groan, "Of course I'll help you, Professor."
"Good choice," the professor praised, "You can just take the broom over there and start sweeping up the dust, and I'll work on this...ooze."
"Why can't we just use magic, sir?"
"I've already tried that, but it seems as though there is some sort of... enchantment on this mess that forces the victim of the prank to clean it up manually. I only wish I knew who did this, so I wouldn't have to clean it up myself."
Rowan turned an icy gaze to Sirius, who beamed proudly.
"Maybe we should wait until that pathetic excuse for a human being is gone," Rowan suggested, spitting the words with such venom, such hatred, that Sirius looked over at her, shocked.
"That could take hours," Sirius whispered, knowing that they could probably be heard through the door, no matter how thick the wood was, "We'd better just get it over with. Go in there, ask to speak to him 'in private,' and get right back out."
"It seems as though you have thought this all over already."
"I'm a quick thinker. It's a family thing."
He stepped away from the door, placed a rough palm on the wood, glanced over at her and said, "Ladies first," as he pushed it open.
She glared at him before stalking into the room with her chin held a little high. She heard Sirius's footsteps behind her.
Ahead of her were rows of several tables, each one covered in a slimy black gunk that reminded her of a failed attempt at Living Death, a potion she'd watched an idiotic sixth year try to perfect in the common room, which ended up looking exactly like that, only that it moved on its own. The Professor was holding his wand up lazily, guiding a wet cloth that had the Hufflepuff insignia on it across one table in the front row. Behind him, picking up a broomstick leaning against the walls decorated with shelves of different skulls, some obviously human, others dogs, others unidentifiable, was Severus Snape, greasy hair hanging to his shoulders, his books on the floor at his feet.
As the heavy wooden door slammed shut and the loud click-clack sound of footsteps came ever so closer, the Professor looked up from his rapidly-turning-black Hufflepuff cloth.
"Ah!" he exclaimed pleasantly, "Mr. Black, and Ms. Mulciber! What a pleasant surprise. How may I serve you?"
At the names, Severus turned quickly, gripping the broom in a way that revealed he was prepared if either of them attacked. He glared at them through narrowed eyes but continued to sweep the floor.
"Professor," Sirius began, making his voice sound as innocent as possible without sounding like a kiss-up, "Could we-" he motioned towards Rowan and himself "-please speak with you in your office?" Glancing at Severus he added, "In complete privacy?"
"Why, of course, dear children," he drawled, "Just step into my humble expanse, and I'll be right with you." He turned back to the cloth, which was now covered with black slime, and continued with his cleaning of the next table.
Sirius led the way to his office, a place he had been forced to visit on several occasions, and pushed the door open, noting how dear old Snivelly stared at him the entire way.
Once the door was reclosed and the two were both inside, Rowan examined her surroundings. There was a small, crowded desk in the center of the petty room, covered with broken quills and crunched up balls of paper. Pictures in intricately carved metal frames hung from nails protruding from high spots on the bland, concrete wall. They were all in black and white, and they moved, like all enchanted photos. There were two large, plush armchairs in front of the desk. One was black and the other a deep yellow, both with the Hufflepuff blazon embroidered into the back with contrasting colors. Sirius sat down on the yellow one and rested his elbow on the arm, setting his chin in the palm of his hand as he waited outwardly patient (inwardly dying of boredom) for the Professor.
Rowan wandered around the room, staring at the many photos. The first one, directly to the left of the door, was of a pretty woman, who she guessed had blonde hair, which was gently lifting in the soft wind. She had a toque on with the Ravenclaw crest on it, and a heavy-looking jacket. Behind her was a view of a lake, glimmering in the bright autumn sunlight, and far, far off was a miniscule beach with coastline houses overlooking the deep blue water. The girl was smiling and laughing, and she couldn't have been older than eighteen.
The next picture had the same girl in it, but she seemed maybe a few decades older, and a man-was that the Professor?-was next to her, an arm around her shoulder. He had short, dark, messy hair and wore a T-shirt that had a peace symbol on it. Her hair was long, and her bangs had been tied into an elegant braid that wrapped around her head like a wreath. They were sitting on a blanket at the top of a grassy hill, and not too far away, there was a huge crowd of possibly several hundred thousands of people before a large stage with a man rapidly running around, holding a microphone and yelling-no, singing-and accompanied by several other men playing instruments like the electric guitar and drums.
"Woodstock?" Rowan muttered to herself, going to the next picture.
It was a wedding photo. The same woman, only as young as the first picture, had her blonde hair in elegant curls, a gorgeous veil that appeared to be silk running down her back. She wore a long, flowing gown that hugged her body tightly but comfortably, and she held a large bouquet of flowers to her stomach, smiling brilliantly. The professor had unusually large hair, but wore a nice, black tuxedo and looked like possibly the happiest man Rowan had ever seen. He smiled at her, and as she watched, the woman looked up at him and touched her lips to his romantically.
The next picture was of the woman, in a hospital bed, her wet hair clinging to her skin; in her arms was a baby, who she hugged close to her, her cheek almost touching the child's forehead, which she kissed lovingly and rubbed.
The rest of the photos were of the family, growing up, the baby becoming a girl who shared her mother's blonde hair. She appeared to be an only child, and there were many pictures of her, riding on a toy broom as a toddler, running in a luscious yard as a child, wearing an elegant dress as a teenager, holding up a giant fish half the size of herself as a young adult, her own wedding, her own child...
"Her name was Kimberly," a rough voice revealed behind her, causing her to jump. As Rowan spun around, she noticed Sirius had turned around to see the professor as well.
"I'm sorry?" Rowan asked, confused.
"My daughter," he explained, "Her name was Kimberly. I called her Kimi." His hair was a firm, grey color with the occasional strand of white and was neatly combed. He had a wrinkly sort of face and his pale blue eyes looked tired, as if he were remembering something, or in a dreamland he didn't want to leave. "She was twenty-two when she died."
"Oh," she whispered, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Professor."
"It was dreadful," he continued, "The Muggles who found the whole family called the hospital and they couldn't find any source of death, so they started to make stuff up like pancreatic cancer, a birth defect, suicide..."
She felt herself go stiff and pale. "Her...entire family was killed?"
"Yes," he replied sadly, "Her husband, herself, her child, and my wife, who was visiting to help with the baby...my grandchild, Isabella Rose. The Muggles couldn't explain it, but I know what happened."
He was silent for a moment, staring at a picture of himself holding a baby girl, his wife standing beside him, stroking the baby's cheek, and his daughter staring happily over his shoulder.
Just as she was about to ask, he said, "Lord Voldemort killed them. Maybe not him precisely, but I know that he was involved, whether it was himself or a Death Eater. You see, my wife was a very talented Ravenclaw student, the brightest girl in the entire castle. She was especially interested certain things that he-who-must-not-be-named also obsessed over. She shared this interest with my daughter, and he went for her, and I daresay he probably tortured all of them and threatened the child, but before she could've helped that baby, they killed her, and it was all because she refused to give in."
"How do you know?" Sirius asked, his voice quiet.
"I don't," he admitted, "But I raised my daughter to be protective of those she loved. I raised her not to give in to pressure, to fight for what she believed in. And, even if I'll never know the truth, even if I'll never know what really happened, the only explanation is the Killing Curse, and I can only think of one person who would go after an innocent family and kill them for information he couldn't have."
They were all silent, staring at the picture of the happy people, and Rowan couldn't bring herself to think about how these people, even the beautiful baby, were dead.
"That's so horrible," she whispered.
"Yes, well," he said, "I just realized I've pulled you children into a life of the past. This is the present, isn't it? Which brings us back to now. You wanted to see me in private?" He'd gone from a depressed, silent, old man to a peppy teacher.
"Right..." Sirius said, remembering why they'd gone there, "We have a couple questions for you." He motioned for Rowan to sit down, and she went to the black armchair and sunk into sulkily.
"You see," he continued, "We-Rowan and I-have been very...intrigued by your lessons recently."
"Really?" the older man inquired, smiling.
"Yes," Sirius insisted, "Especially some certain defensive spells you've been teaching us. And we-Rowan and myself-have come to a question...a rather peculiar question about spells in general."
"Well, I would've thought that you, Mr. Black, and your friend, Mr. Potter, being the brightest students I've seen in a long time, could've gone to the library and looked it up yourselves. But, what am I a teacher for if I cannot teach, and answer the questions of my pupils? Ask away, my boy." He sat down in his chair across from them, his elbows on the desk.
"Well, we were sort of thinking that all spells have to come from somewhere. They have to be created by something, don't they? I mean, at some point they have to be invented. Am I correct?"
"Yes, Mr. Black, you are."
"So, we-Rowan and I-would like to know how this is done?"
"Well, Mr. Black, it is not a simple process. You have to know in your heart and mind exactly what you want to do, and if you concentrate enough, you can create the perfect enchantment."
"That's brilliant!"
"Yes, it is, is it not? Well, my boy, you should know, you are not the only one who has asked me about inventing spells."
"Really?" Sirius asked, trying to sound surprised, "Who else?"
The Professor seemed deep in thought, as if deciding whether it should be a private matter or not, and was drawing in a breath to speak when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," he called, looking past them.
The door was opened and Severus stepped in, hiding under his mass of hair. "Professor, there's, um, a slight problem with the broom..." He held out a long wooden rod, a few pieces of burnt straw at the bottom. "The black slime, whatever it was, disintegrated when this touched it, and took the straw with it..."
"Oh dear," the Professor mused, "Well, Mr. Black and Ms. Mulciber were just leaving."
Sirius and Rowan stood up and walked out the door, Sirius purposely bumping Severus on his way out.