Chapter Eighteen
Lyla POV
I didn’t like not knowing things. Well, I actually didn’t really mind that part, but I hated not being able to learn about things I didn’t know.
I was not able to learn about Ravenclaw’s diadem these past three weeks. I hosted several study sessions with the Marauders (which somehow made me feel like I was learning a negative amount of knowledge, probably because Sirius and James were having a competition to see when Madam Prince would notice they were only talking to her in innuendos).
I relented a week and a half ago and told Amanda and Bryant, but even their combined knowledge did little to progress the learning.
I had officially hit a dead end. Blast.
I was rifling through a book titled Dark Objects and Their Uses in the History of the 1800s, getting increasingly disturbed with every page I flipped when Sirius Black sat down across from me.
I squinted at him. He practically never went to the library unless forced, so I was reasonably wary that he’d start making ‘that’s what she said’ jokes again.
“Hey, Zemen,” Sirius leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the table.
“Hey, Sirius,” I answered, shoving his boots off of the book. “Are you in detention or something?”
“Nope,” Sirius twirled his wand between two of his fingers. “Just checking in on my favorite Ravenclaw.”
I hummed. “What do you want? Keep in mind that flattery doesn’t work on me.”
“It does when Moony uses it,” Sirius winked.
“That’s because he is Remus,” I raised my eyebrow at him. “Go on.”
Sirius began fidgeting with his tie, and I frowned. He wasn’t a person to just fidget with things. Something was most definitely wrong. I set down my quill.
“It’s just—Iris loves you, right?”
My frown deepened. “Yes, she does.”
“Why?” Sirius wasn’t looking at me, instead inspecting a drop of pink paint on his left boot as if it was the most fascinating thing he had seen all day.
“She cares about me—“
“Yeah but why?” He was practically hissing at me now, his eyes watering and lips curling downward.
“Well, she—“
“How did you do it?” Sirius growled. “How did you get her to like you?” He slammed his fists on the table and I jumped.
“Mr. Black!” Madam Prince hissed. “Shush!”
I grabbed Sirius’s arm with one hand, the book with the other and tugged him behind the Magiczooloigist shelves.
“Sirius, please,” I cried softly.
“Please, what?” Sirius ripped his arm away and hunched on the groan, hands splayed out in front of him.
He jerked his head to the book I was carrying.
“That’s for the crown thing, right?”
I nodded my head, and Sirius laughed bitterly.
“You’re not going to find anything,” he said, looking at me. His eyes looked black in the shadows of the library. “Not without help.”
He laughed again, a haunting, grating sound that sent shivers racing up my spine.
“He acts like I never loved him.”
I didn’t ask who he was talking about, instead crouching next to him.
“Please breathe.” I begged.
“He acts like I didn’t stand between him and our parents.” Sirius’s hand tightened into fists. “He acts like I didn’t direct their anger towards me. He acts like I didn’t get tortured for him!”
He was trembling and wrapped my arms around him, trying to steady him. I only shook with him.
“He. Just. Goes. Running. Back. To. Them.” Sirius was panting. “I can’t—I can’t feel my hands,” he gasped, voice so low I could barely hear him.
“Sirius, breathe—“
“I. DON'T. UNDERSTAND.” I nearly fell backward at his raised voice.
“Shh, it’s okay, Sirius,” I rubbed his back. “Maybe he felt trapped. Maybe he didn’t know how to get out.”
“I WAS TRAPPED TOO!” Sirius was sobbing uncontrollably. “I LEFT! I SHOWED HIM HE COULD TOO! HE ACTS AS IF I NEVER LOVED HIM!”
Around the corner of the bookshelf, an irate Madam Pince appeared followed by Professor McGonagall. The Gryffendor Head of House approached Sirius, but I pulled him away something close to panic fueling my actions.
I didn’t know why, but I was frightened. Not of Sirius, but of everyone else.
“Miss Zemen,” Professor McGonagall held out her hands placatingly. “I’m here to help Mr. Black. If you would please—“
“I DON'T UNDERSTAND!” Sirius was clinging to me, clawing at my back in an attempt to pull me closer. I started to cry, whimpering and feeling like an idiot. I didn’t know what to do.
“HE BETRAYED ME! WHY WOULD HE GO BACK AFTER EVERYTHING THEY DID TO ME!” Sirius was screaming into my hair, and my ears began to buzz, a low ringing coming from nowhere.
“I HATE HIM!” There was something cracking. Inside of Sirius. Maybe even inside of me. I wondered if anyone else could hear it.
McGonagall tried to come closer again, but I growled at her. I actually growled. Maybe my boyfriend was rubbing off on me.
“Reggie,” Sirius moaned, misery coating his tone. “I…hate you…”
I heard pounded feet and turned to see James Potter shoving past Pince and McGonagall. I started crying harder, and Sirius bleated in pain.
“Why doesn’t…he love…me..?” James reached Sirius then pulled him close, tangling their limbs together as he started whispering into his ear.
I got tugged into their pile by Sirius’s still firm grip on my robes, hanging squished on the outside. I was limp as I listened to James.
“I love you. Hey, hey. It’s okay because I love you. I’ve got you Sirius. You’re safe. I love you. Remus loves you. I’m going to keep you safe. You’re okay now…”
A part of my mind went away from the library to a scene where Amanda stood rain soaked on my front steps begging to be let in. My best friend, running away from an abusive family but leaving a brother behind.
I think maybe I, too, would be angry and hateful and scared. I think I would beat back anyone that came too close to my friends even if it was a lonely, younger Slytherin.
I felt numb floating away until another person pressed against me. I recognized Remus’s body. He was now also whispering to Sirius, his arm wrapped around me. His back was hunched and form tight with pain. The full moon had just passed.
James was clinging to his friends, face pale and lips pressed tightly together. Lily must have arrived with Remus because she was there, running her hands through her boyfriend's hair in an attempt at comfort.
Our eyes met over the boys’ heads. I understood her, and I understood them.
What I couldn’t understand was how the world could hold so much pain in it.
Iris POV
I hadn’t seen Lyla in ages, and we’d barely had time to talk since the muggle attack. I needed my sister. Badly.
I found her asleep in the library, giant, dusty books surrounding her like a barricade. She was currently drooling over an illustration of the dark mark. Interesting.
“Lyla,” I whispered, shaking her awake.
“Merlin!” she cried, sitting bolt upright and grabbing her wand.
“It’s just me,” I protested. “Good grief, how long have you been here?”
“Why? What time is it? Have I missed potions?”
“Not unless you’ve been here since yesterday. It’s Saturday,” I told her.
“Oh good “ she sighed in releif. “Just since this morning then.”
“What are doing here? Still researching that project for history of magic?” I asked.
“What? Oh, Merlin, I haven’t told you yet? I swear these last few weeks have been a fever dream.”
“I know right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But what haven’t you told me?”
She gulped as her eyes darted around the room. I noticed a crease on her left cheek. She apparently deemed it safe enough because she lowered her voice and pulled out the chair next to her, which I dutifully sat in.
“Listen. I found the diadem.”
“The one that’s been lost for centuries?” I exclaimed.
“Shh,” she hissed. “Yes. It was in the room of requirement. Remus and the rest of the boys and Lily helped me find it.
“The what? And why were “the boys” with you?” I asked. Sounded like a pretty big gang and I was kind of disappointed I hadn’t been a part of it.
“It’s just a room, I’ll show you sometime and I don’t know, they just happened to be there. They’re really quite sweet you know,” she said smiling faintly.
“I’m sure they are,” I said raising a brow.
“Anyway, that’s not all. It’s a long story, but Remus thinks it’s a dark object and the Gray Lady told my the some boy put himself in the diadem, Iris. Who else could it be but Voldemort?” She looked terrified at the prospect and honestly, I felt a little terrified too. Her tone was graver than I had ever heard it.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re in the library, though.”
“Oh, Iris! Don’t you see? I can’t just go around asking people about this but I have to know more. If it involves Voldemort it could be dangerous.”
“Alright, what can I do to help?” I asked, shoving aside the books in front of me. She smiled gratefully and opened her mouth, but before a word could come out, Remus popped out of nowhere to drop a kiss on it. I rolled my eyes and tried to suppress my grin.
“Hullo Brains. Having a nap, were we? Hullo Iris. Rescuing her, are we?”
“Attempting to,” I answered. “I suppose you and your boys know everything since you were there?”
“Yup,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking rumpled as he leaned against the table.
“Well, let’s get to work then shall we?” I asked. “Where do we start?”
Lyla pulled a crumpled handwritten list out of her robe pocket and smoothed it out on the desk. Up next is Soul Searching: Don’t Give it Away to Just Anyone.”
“You sure?” I asked. “Sounds more romantic than dangerous.”
“I’m not sure,” Lyla snapped, then softened. “Honestly I’m getting to the end of my list. I don’t know where we’ll go once it’s done.”
“We’ll cross that bridge once we get to it,” Remus said gently, rubbing her back.
“C’mon,” I said, leading the way to the front desk. “Excuse me,” I said to Madam Pince. “We’re looking for Soul Searching by Ms Ellen Craven,” I told her in my most peaceful tone, hoping it wasn’t in the restricted section for whatever reason.
“I am sorry, Miss Zemen, but that particular book has just been checked out and isn’t due for another fortnight,” Madam Pince didn’t look very sorry, only sour.
My face fell. “Checked out by who? Maybe they’ll return it early.”
“By Mr Black, my dear,” she said pointing to a table near the door.
My heart seized, hoping it was the right Mr Black, the one who was roommates with my sister’s boyfriend and who would leap at the opportunity to help us. My eyes landed on a head of neatly parted, wavy black hair. It wasn’t.
Regulus POV
Through the din of rustling pages in the library and the hail pounding against the castle windows came the sounds of someone stomping rather loudly across the stone floor.
As I flipped my page, I wished people would take more care to be considerate to everyone else using the library. I could barely stay awake as it was and needed to maximize this time if I was going to finish this stupid book before I got started on my Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Ironic, that.
Instead of walking past me, the footsteps echoed right up to me and stopped. I looked up through my bleary eyes and my heart sank.
It was Iris.
And she looked furious.
I had managed to avoid her for the most part and only saw her in Potions these days. Honestly, it was for the best that she was still mad at me. I had thought about apologizing, but then she’d want to be friends again and it was best that she didn’t get tangled up in all of this.
Right now she was standing with her arms crossed, glaring daggers at me.
“We need your book,” she snapped. Out of all the things I expected her to say, it was not that.
“I’m not done with it,” I said, slightly taken aback.
“Well that’s too bad,” she hissed, and started to tug it out from under my arm, literally tug it away from me! This was too much.
“Hey,” this time it was my turn to snap, yanking the book back towards me. “I said I’m not done.”
She reached for it again but this time Lyla tugged her back. “Iris, please,” she begged. I hadn’t even noticed her to be honest. Now that I saw her, I realized Lupin was there too, hovering behind her, ready to jump in if need be.
“Regulus, could you please let us know when you’re done with it?” Lyla asked placatingly.
“Why should I?” I asked. “Soul searching yourself, are you? If you’re under the delusion that this psycho is ‘the one’ you’re even more naive than I thought,” I snapped, then immediately regretted it.
She wasn’t the one I was supposedly mad at. I regretted it even more when she started to tear up, actually tear up right there in the middle of the library. Maybe she really did think she was going to marry that boy or something.
Lupin stiffened at her side, looking incredibly concerned.
Iris just looked murderous.
“Why don’t you shut up?” Iris hissed.
I tried to let the comment glance off the familiar armor of my aloof countenance. Comments only hurt if you let them.
“No one asked your opinion and I’m astonished you even feel entitled to give one given the glaring evidence that you lack a soul in the first place.”
My armor cracked a bit at that.
“I’m sure everyone who has had the misfortune to meet you, whether by blood or circumstance, would agree with me.”
“What would you know about it?” I cried, losing my temper all at once.
I was exhausted, and conflicted, and hurting and she thought she could lecture me about being soulless. I felt a derisive laugh building in the back of my throat but when it escaped, it sounded more hysterical than anything.
Me, soulless. We had a much more dangerous threat who I knew could boast the very same thing.
Madam Pince descended upon us then, starting to lecture me about my volume, but at that very moment Lyla burst into tears.
This shocked Madam Pince just as much as the rest of us and Lupin swept her into the hallway, with Iris following after. With only me left, Pince corralled me out as well, with a glare.
The four of us stood outside the library doors in sudden silence, broken up only by Lyla’s muffled sobs. Iris was enveloping her in a hug while glaring at me over the top of her sister’s head.
“We just wanted it for the diadem,” Lyla choked out into Iris’s shoulder. “Just for the stupid artifact and then you can have it back.”
My ears perked up at that. “What artifact? Rowena’s diadem? Why are you researching that?” I asked.
“Because it’s filled with him!” she cried, with a vehemence that made my blood run cold.
“Who?” I asked in a deadly whisper. She turned to meet my gaze now, staring me down.
“You know who,” she told me, her red eyes hard.
I sucked in a breath. Then I grabbed the three of them and shoved them into the nearest broom closet. It was tiny and dim and my head brushed the ceiling, but it would do.
“The Dark Lord?” I asked. “You’re saying Voldemort is in the diadem?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How on earth did you manage to find a horcrux?” I had been researching it for months, how it worked, what objects worked best, and I still only knew about that stupid cup from overhearing my aunt.
How would they know what objects Voldemort would prefer to hide his soul in?
“A what?” she asked, looking puzzled. In fact, they all did.
“Merlin’s beard, please tell me you’re joking.” They just blinked at me. “You said it had his soul in it. How else do you know unless-“
“The Gray Lady told me,” she cut in. And then explained her stupid class project. I shook my head. They had just stumbled upon it. It killed me.
If they didn’t know what horcruxes were, I didn’t have to explain it to them. But they had been researching nonstop and honestly I was getting a little sick of research myself.
It wasn’t getting me anywhere and I could use the extra pairs of eyes to help. Even if one of those pairs was always glaring defensively. Time was of the essence.
So I sighed and tried my best to explain it from the beginning. Tried to explain what we were up against.
Their faces grew paler with every word I spoke. Only now was the full gravity of what we were undertaking hitting them. I felt like it had been hitting me for years now.
“Over break I heard Bella bragging about how the Dark Lord had especially requested her help safekeeping an object of his. Mother pressed and pressed until she wheedled it out of Aunt that it was a cup “from that pathetic excuse for a mudblood loving house.””
My gaze shot to Iris’s at that, but her expression was carefully stoic.
“When mother asked her what was so important about a cup, Bella snapped that the Dark Lord himself claimed it held a piece of him. Rather strong hyperbole for an artifact from a house he cares nothing about, don’t you think? I’ve spent these months looking into it and realized what he was doing. Only over break did he hint that there may be more than one.”
“Don’t you think we ought to tell Dumbledore?” Iris asked.
“No,” I told her, instantly. “If you work with me, he stays out of it. And without me you have no leads. I’m the one who has the information on Hufflepuff’s cup.”
“But why not?” she asked.
“I don’t trust him,” I told her coldly.
“With what? Knowledge about the most important tactical move Voldemort is making?” I could tell she thought I was insane.
“No, with how I got that information in the first place.”
“You were eavesdropping, that’s hardly punishable by death,” she rolled her eyes. I gulped. If I was really going to get them to keep their mouths shut I was going to have to go all in.
“Not just eavesdropping, I was also invited to listen in.”
“Invited?” Iris asked incredulously. “Voldemort invited a teenager to sit in on his plans? Why on earth would he trust you with that?” she asked, her tone skeptical.
“Because of this,” I said, and yanked up my left sleeve.