Beyond the Veil

Following the conversation with Aemond, one which left her with a pleasant feeling (though she’d never admit that outloud), Celeste found a newfound confidence to figure things out, and speak the truth to Sirius. The whole truth.

She’d woken the next morning, dressing in one of her latest gowns, a deep red with golden accents and subtle swirls embroidered throughout. Maybe I shouldn’t wear my Slytherin pride today…

She sat at the edge of her bed, her hands folded in her lap. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her sleeve, tugging it down over her left arm, over the bandages and the mark beneath them. Her heart wasn’t racing like it had been after the collapse of the ceiling, but it wasn’t calm either.

Her gaze flickered to the door. Any second now.

Her chest felt tight, every breath measured and careful, as if one wrong inhale might break her apart. She had been rehearsing this moment for the past hour.

Her eyes drifted to the floor, her lips moving silently as she practiced what she would say.

“I didn’t choose it, father.”

Her fingers curled against her lap. No. Too defensive. He wouldn’t believe that. He wouldn’t understand.

Her eyes lifted again, and she tilted her head back, letting out a long, slow breath. Just say it plainly.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes flickering with frustration. No. That’s not enough. He deserves more. Her eyes squeezed shut, her breath sharp as she tried again.

“I didn’t have a choice, but I did things I regret. I did things that still haunt me.”

Her fingers trembled, and she pressed them against her thighs, forcing herself to still. “I never wanted to be one of them. But I was. For a time, I was.”

Her heart squeezed, her breath coming faster now. Her mind flashed with memories she didn’t want to see.

Flashes of cold stone halls. The flicker of green light. Faces she never learned the names of. Screams.

Her throat felt tight. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to tell him.

But she had to.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she glanced at the fire. Her gaze softened just slightly. Sirius. Her father. Her guiding star. He’d always been her light, even when she didn’t know he was watching her. He deserved to know. Even if it hurt.

The soft knock on the door startled her, her head snapping up. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as the door creaked open just slightly.

“Sirius?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He stepped inside, his dark eyes meeting hers immediately. He looked different. Tired. Worn. His usual aura of strength and confidence seemed dimmed, replaced with something heavier.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly, his voice quieter than she’d ever heard it.

She nodded slowly, her hands gripping the edge of the bed as she watched him close the door behind him. Her heart pounded in her chest.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob as if he were debating whether to stay. His eyes flicked to her bandaged arm, lingering for just a second before meeting her gaze again.

“I... I shouldn’t have left like that,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “I shouldn’t have—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I was angry. Not at you. At... everything. But I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair. It was a shock I wasn’t expecting.”

Celeste swallowed hard, her chest aching at the rawness in his voice. She hadn’t expected this.

“I need to tell you,” she said quickly, her words tumbling out before she lost her nerve. Her eyes met his, her gaze filled with a mix of determination and fear. “I need to tell you everything, dad. About the mark. About what I did.”

His brows furrowed, his jaw tightening slightly, but he nodded. “I’m listening.”

Her breath came out in a shaky exhale, and she glanced down at her hands, twisting them nervously. Where do I even begin?

“They forced me to take it,” she began, her voice trembling. The words felt heavy, like they were being pulled from somewhere deep inside her. “I didn’t want it. I didn’t choose it. They—” Her breath hitched, and she shook her head. “I was sixteen. Lucius told me it was my duty as a pureblood, as a Malfoy. To live up to the family name, and restore the Black’s to their rightful place.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. She could see the anger in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. He let her continue.

“They didn’t give me a choice,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. “It was that or watch Draco suffer for my refusal.” Her fingers brushed over the edge of her bandage. “They held me down. They cast it on me. It burned, like nothing I’ve ever felt. Worse than the cruciatus curse. And after that...”

Her breath caught, her eyes squeezing shut as tears pricked at the corners. The memories surged forward, sharp and vivid.

“After that, I had to act like one of them. Like I wanted to be there. Like I believed in what they were doing.” Her voice grew quieter, filled with shame. “I had to hurt people, dad. I had to do things—awful things—just to survive.”

Her gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t even know how many people I hurt. How many lives have been lost due to my actions.”

Sirius’s face was tight, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable. Not anger. Not disappointment. Something deeper.

“They made me,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But sometimes... I think... I think maybe I could’ve fought harder. Maybe I could’ve done more. Maybe—”

“Stop,” Sirius said suddenly, his voice sharp but not unkind. He stepped forward, his hands resting on her shoulders. His touch was firm, steady. Grounding.

“You were a child, Celeste,” he said, his voice rough but filled with quiet intensity. “You were a child, and they put you in an impossible situation. That’s not your fault.”

Her lips trembled, her breath hitching as the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over. “I still did it,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I still hurt them. I—”

Sirius shook his head, his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly. “You survived,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “That’s what matters. You survived, and you’re here now. You’re not them, Celeste. You’re not like them.” Sirius paused, his eyes softening. “I bent the knee to Aegon to survive. You did what you needed to do.”

Her chest ached, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. His words felt like a lifeline, pulling her out of the depths.

“I wanted to tell you,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know how.”

He exhaled slowly, his hands dropping from her shoulders to rest at his sides. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For making you feel like you couldn’t. For not being there when you needed me most.”

Her tears fell silently now, her chest heaving as she struggled to steady her breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “For everything.”

Sirius stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, comforting, steady.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said softly, his voice low but filled with conviction. “Not to me. Not ever.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears soaking into his tunic as he held her close. For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself break. And for the first time, she didn’t feel like she had to hold herself together alone.

Her breath came in uneven, shallow bursts, her tears soaking into the rough fabric of his tunic. She hated this—hated being this vulnerable, this raw. But she couldn’t stop. Not now.

Her fingers curled into the back of his tunic, gripping the fabric tightly like it was the only thing keeping her from being swept away. Her chest ached. Her throat burned.

Her voice was quiet, broken. “They don’t leave me.”

Sirius didn’t speak, but his arms shifted slightly, pulling her in tighter. She felt his breath, slow and steady, against the top of her head.

“Every night,” she continued, her voice cracking under the weight of her words. “I see them. The people I hurt. The faces—” Her breath hitched, and her fingers pressed harder into his back. “Their eyes. They just… they just look at me. They never say anything. They just stare.” Her voice faltered, her chest heaving as she tried to pull in air past the weight crushing her lungs.

Her eyes squeezed shut, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “I can still feel it, you know? Their blood on my hands. The spells I cast. I tell myself I had to do it, that I had no choice, but it doesn’t matter.” Her voice grew quieter, more broken with every word. “They’re still there. They’ll always be there.”

Her breath shook as she sucked in a sharp inhale, her face pressed against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” she whispered. “Every night, I’m afraid to sleep.”

Her words hung in the air, too heavy to be ignored. Too raw to be brushed aside.

For a moment, Sirius didn’t move. No words. No reassurances. Just silence. The kind of silence that stretches too long.

She almost pulled away, thinking she’d said too much. Thinking she’d let him see too much. But then he spoke.

“I see them too, you know,” he said quietly, his voice low, rough, like it had been pulled from somewhere deep. “James. Lily.”

Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched.

He didn’t let go of her. If anything, he held her tighter. His arms pressed firmly around her like he was grounding himself as much as her.

“After Voldemort,” he continued slowly, his voice like gravel, “I was the first one there. The house was still standing, but it was quiet. Too quiet.” He drew in a breath, sharp and quick like it still hurt to breathe. “I knew before I even stepped inside. Knew something was wrong.”

Her eyes widened, her heart twisting in her chest. He’d never talked about this before. Not like this.

His breath was shallow, controlled, but it shook on the edges like he was barely holding it together. “I found them, Celeste.” His voice cracked slightly, and he pressed his eyes shut. “James was in the hallway. His wand was still in his hand.” His jaw tightened, his teeth gritting together as he spoke. “He was face down. I didn’t… I didn’t want to turn him over, but I did.”

Her breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. “Sirius...”

He shook his head, his voice growing rougher, more ragged. “And Lily—” He choked on the word, his breath stuttering like it had physically hurt to say her name. “Lily was upstairs, by Harry’s crib. She was still reaching for him.” His eyes shut tighter, his hands gripping her shoulders now like he was holding on for dear life.

Her chest ached. Her whole body ached for him.

“I still see them,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw, broken, stripped of everything but truth. “Every night. Just like you.” His breath was shaky as he exhaled slowly. “I see James smiling at me like I just made a stupid joke. I see Lily laughing at something Harry did.” His voice cracked, and he lowered his head slightly, his chin resting against her hair. “And then I see them dead. Every. Single. Time.”

Her breath came in sharp, short bursts, her heart breaking with every word. Her grip on him tightened.

He pulled back slightly, his hands moving to frame her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. His dark eyes locked onto hers, sharp but steady, filled with something deeper than anger or pain. Something she knew all too well.

Grief.

“I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me,” he said, his voice steady but rough. His fingers gently wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I’m telling you this so you’ll know I understand.” His eyes searched hers, raw but honest. “They’re not going to leave you, Celeste. Not those faces. Not those memories.”

Her breath shook as she blinked up at him, her silver-grey eyes filled with tears.

“But you know what else stays?” he asked softly, his voice calmer now, his hands still cradling her face like she might break apart. “The people who love you. The people who are still here.”

Her throat tightened, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

“We stay,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I stay.”

Her breath came out in a sharp, shaky exhale, her body shaking with the force of her silent sobs. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her hands gripping his wrists like they were her only tether to reality. “I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with quiet fury—but not at her. Never at her.

“Don’t be,” he muttered, his hands moving to her shoulders, his grip strong and steady. “They did this to you, not the other way around. They took your choices away, Celeste. They took your choices, your control, your innocence—and you still survived.” His gaze burned with quiet intensity. “Don’t be sorry for that.”

Her breath came out in a sharp, broken gasp, and she nodded, blinking away the tears that clung to her lashes. Her chest ached. Her heart ached.

But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t drowning.

Sirius pulled her into his chest again, his arms wrapping tightly around her like he could shield her from the world. His hand moved slowly, gently brushing over her hair.

“Every night I see them,” he whispered, his breath warm against her temple. “But I’m still here.” His grip tightened just slightly, his fingers pressing firmly against her back. “And so are you.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, fresh tears spilling over as she buried her face in his chest. His heartbeat was steady. Solid. There.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t alone.

She wasn’t alone.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—two people made of broken pieces but still standing. His hand brushed over her hair slowly, his breathing steady, his voice quiet but certain.

“Let them stare,” he muttered softly, his lips brushing against the top of her head. “Let them haunt you. But they don’t own you, Celeste.” His hand pressed firmly against her back. “You’re still here.”

Her breath hitched as she let out a quiet sob, her body shaking as her hands clung to his tunic like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

Her voice was quiet, broken, but steady. “I’m still here.”

Sirius didn’t say anything after that. He just held her.

He didn’t have to say anything.

For the first time in a long time, she believed him.

She was still here.

They both were.