Landslide
Well I’ve been afraid of changin’
‘Cause I built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too
13th August 1975
“You don’t have to do this.” Regulus implored, facing his sister as she sorted her things by the Potter’s Floo.
The bag was red leather - a handle like a tied knot atop. Some gift from Lily, he presumed. What else would she take into Grimmauld Place but a Muggle item? Filled by a Muggle notepad and pen. A couple of jam tarts for snacks, though he doubted their mother would let her eat them.
“Of course I do.” His sister snorted in reply, spinning to face him as she tucked her wand up her sleeve.
Despite the Muggle accessories - a navy and lilac tartan headband over her messed layers, and a dark t-shirt hidden below - the dark robes she had donned coated her scrawny form. Clearly a gift from their mother judging by the old-fashioned cut. White stitching and buttons made of pearl.
“Easter was… please, Ara… one of us could go instead.” Reg tried, sighing as he helped her straighten her collar in the mirror.
“For tea with my future husband?” She raised an incredulous brow. “Even if it wouldn’t likely prompt Walburga to the Potter’s door to seize you and Sirius, Father… he read some records at the Ministry and made it clear that a friend of mine would be outed were I not to attend.” She looked away, cheeks flushing at the omission. Her final words were muttered, almost bitterly. “I have to go.”
“Who?”
“Hagrid.” Ara laughed. Though the humour did not reach her eyes. “He’s half-giant.”
“Sod ruddy Hagrid.” Reg shrugged, flabbergasted at his sister. “She’ll kill you, Ara. I think this time she might actually kill you.”
“I’m tougher than that.” Ara sighed; lips tugging into a sorrowful smile. “I’ll be back for tea.” She promised, brushing invisible dust off her brother’s shoulders. “Monty’s got that new elderflower earl grey that sounds absolutely kooky.” She smiled, knocking his jaw lightly with her knuckles.
“I’ll finish reading that book, so you can have it for the evening.” He sighed in acceptance, looking away as he ran a hand through his curls.
“You are a rockstar.” She ruffled his hair, much to the younger boy’s chagrin as he scowled and tried to flatten it out. “I can’t believe you’ve got me into science fiction. Absolutely ruined me, you have.”
“Philip K. Dick is an absolute genius as far as I’m concerned.” Regulus grinned cheekily. “And robots are wicked.”
“I’m excited to find out for myself.”
“See you in a few.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” She winked, stepping into the Floo and throwing the powder. “Grimmauld Place!” She called out as the green flash overtook her; her stomach swirling as she popped into a different place.
With a cough, she stepped out of the Grimmauld Floo.
Brushing soot off her jeans, Ara looked up at the empty hall - ears catching the muffled noise of male chatter a room over.
Let’s get this over with, she thought.
Do you mind? Sirius poked her over the bond. I’m trying to figure out that hair dye over here.
Sorry my anxiety is inconveniencing you, she rolled her eyes as she moved through the hall towards the door - knocking twice. I’ll be quieter about it.
Just… be careful.
Careful’s my middle name.
Piss off, Hermie.
Good luck with the hair dye! She bit back, voice full of ice as she flicked his presence from her mind as though it were a fleck of muck.
Ara was old enough now to admit that her childhood home was, as her brother had once called it, ‘ruddy miserable’. The dark wallpaper peeled at the corners. Lamps flickered from their wall perches, and the chandelier glass seemed dusty and tarnished.
Had it always looked so dour?
Or was there a magic to it? She could almost feel it around her. Like the prickle of dagger tips across the flesh. The Black magic had never felt truly welcoming to her. Not in Grimmauld Place.
At the Summer Estate, she felt the peace that family magic could bring. With her cousins and siblings (and a lack of adults), it had been warm. Gentle. Almost like dipping her feet in the water on a hot day. Even in the Potter Manor, she felt the burst of their family magic. In the glow of the opal walls, the warmth of the hearth on Christmas Day.
Grimmauld had never been that way.
Walburga Black’s madness clung to it. It lingered in the floorboards in the burns of old hexes and curses. In the walls in buried screams; both pitched and aged. Cracking at the seams of the house. And without the presence of the newer generation, it was crumbling to pieces.
Appearances had always been so important to her mother.
It was why the twins had known how truly severe their punishment would be come Yule in first year. For their mother to send a Howler, to scold them so publicly… they had known her anger must have been severe if it had overcome her pride.
Or perhaps it was its wounding that left her so volatile?
“You’re early.”
Ara spun in place to spy the doorway to the tea lounge.
And there, donning their namesake colour with her hair pulled tight into a bun, stood Walburga Black. She looked older.
“I assumed you would prefer that to lateness.” Ara replied, shoulders tight as she straightened her spine on instinct. “And I wanted to arrive before Flint.”
“I see.” The elder witch replied; voice cool and flat.
“My brothers are well.” Ara spoke tersely, fist clenching beneath the sleeves of her robes. “Regulus made seeker this year. I’m not certain I told you that yet. Professor Slughorn invited him to a couple of his functions.”
“If only he were in Slytherin.” Walburga sighed loudly. “At least he’s more accomplished than your twin.”
“Sirius got the second highest marks in Charms this year.” Ara grit out.
“Did he? The school sent me letters but your father used them for kindling.” Grey eyes met with barely concealed contention. “But our Dark Lord did inform me of your improved marks this year. Rather silly, don’t you think? It isn’t as though sudden smarts will change your chances.”
“I have a rather pushy best friend that enjoys academics.” Ara shrugged; the gritting of her teeth like a clack reverberating through her skull. “Besides, if I cannot get NEWTs, I may as well get as many OWLs as I can.”
“Your cousin Bellatrix planned for the same.”
“I know.”
“Why must you regard me so bitterly?” Walburga sighed. Merlin, how how had she had so many frown lines? So many creases to her brow and folds that tugged her lips downwards. “I thought we agreed at Easter that we would put this behind us. You do remember your promise?”
“Of course.” Ara replied, sourly - raising a hand as though reciting a vow. “I swore not to interfere with my engagement, and to be more obedient.” Her hand fell to her side, swallowed by dark fabric. “A bit of an odd way to try and reconnect with your daughter, but who am I to judge.” Her lips twitched.
“Why must you be so unruly?”
“You seared the madness into me.” It felt almost comical, to be still stood between doorways for this conversation. Such a silly place to be for such a talk. “I’m not sure what you expected me to become, if not bitter and unruly.”
“I had hoped for obedience without such extreme measures.” Her mother spoke through a clenched jaw. Pale skin tensing at the gesture; pulled tight against bone.
“You hoped for vengeance on a child.” Ara bit out. “And I have spent years hiding the marks you leave. But no longer. I am your eldest child, and I will do your bidding. But I will not hide the marks, ever again. The next time you touch me, I tell.” Her voice was thick with rage; flat and sharp. “You should have had dogs, mother. At least when you kick them, they’ll still come back.”
“What does it say that you still do?”
“That I love my brothers enough to endure you, even when I hate their guts? That they both would not come back, unless for my sake… I think it speaks far about you than me.”
“I was like you once. An eldest daughter followed by heirs.” Walburga’s eyes twitched as she scanned her daughter with apprehension. “There is a responsibility on our shoulders, one that you refuse to accept.”
“No longer.” She sighed, hands shaking as she clutched them into fists, if only so she wouldn’t draw her wand. “I concede. Just… promise to be nicer to your sons. It’s the only way they’ll obey.”
Her mother blinked at her. And then her face scrunched into a scowl.
“Off with you to the drawing room.” Walburga grit out. “I shall direct your betrothed when he arrives.”
With that, the elder witch spun back into the tea room and slammed the door shut. It shook the house.
Ara squeezed her eyes shut, a harsh exhale shuddering from her chest.
When her eyes were open anew, she was in the drawing room. Stuck in the middle of the sparse room; too nerved to sit on the musty furniture. Pacing the creaking floorboards with muffled clicks of heels against a thin rug on hardwood.
It was something she could not admit to her brothers.
That their mother had almost broken her. Cracked the bones in her arm up to her elbow and Ara had finally shattered. Fractured and nearly begged to be put out of her misery. Promised temporary obedience in turn for silence. For peace.
She couldn’t let them know. Not when it had only taken half an arm to just about break her.
Absentmindedly, she gripped the once-shattered elbow. Fingers tight against the fabric of her robes, creasing it in small divots.
A soft crack sounded behind her. The faint crackle of apparation; a tug of dread like tar in her stomach as she spun.
“Mr Riddle.” She dipped her head in greeting - eyes darting to the conspicuously empty corridor.
“Good day, Miss Black.” He nodded, clearly unsurprised at her knowing his name despite his never having said it. The figure from only a year before had changed, so slightly. His skin was more white than pale. Hair black as ink and eyes practically blood-red. Almost like a vampire from one of Lily’s secret romance novels, with their striking beauty and deadly gaze. “Though, I should inform you that I have not been known as such for a long time in our circles.”
“How so?”
“I am most often referred to now as Lord Voldemort.” An involuntary shudder left her at the oh-so-familiar name. She could barely look away from his eyes in time to force her flashes of dreams and nightmares away - not daring to let him in on that secret of hers.
“Is that what Bella calls you? Whatever it is you have her doing, in whatever secret society you’re orchestrating.” Ara dared to ask, almost shrinking as his eyes seemed to brighten at her boldness.
“She calls me her Lord.” He replied, tone so bland and even. “Your family have done me a great favour, Miss Black.” He explained, stepping further into the room. “I know you’ve felt the effects. You’re more attuned than most, aren’t you?” His head tilted as he appraised her.
Sometimes, she understood the pull of this wizard. It was in his aristocratic face; all beauty and lethality. Dark eyes, almost crimson - hair dark as night. For those preaching blood purity, he must have seemed like an ideal figurehead.
Made more ruinous by his magical prowess and brutality.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You are not a practiced liar.” His lip twitched. “Did you follow my clues?”
“I do love a mystery.” She whispered, eyes wide as she gulped down trepidation.
There it was. That answer, that nudging feeling in the back of her mind… brought forth so simply. Of course it was his hand that had placed the book.
She had been foolish to hope for any other.
“I was curious what you would do with such information.” He inched closer again, her feet frozen in place. It was the effect of Tom Riddle; that awful and unsettling dread that stuck a person in place - a feeling so unsettling that it was difficult to distinguish the magic behind it. “And now, I see that you have done nothing. A disappointment, really. I had expected that shred of interest inside you would bloom. Instead, you cower from it.”
“Is it wrong to wish to be ignorant a little longer?” Her brow furrowed, words quiet but steady. “I know enough of this world to know that I’m too young to face such things.”
“I was your age when I made it.” He spoke flatly, his unimpressed stare gaining this maddening hunger as her face paled and her eyes widened. “You wish for something that has already passed. And it is pathetic for a witch of your potential.”
“Why did you come here, Mr Riddle?”
“I merely wished to see how you have found this past year.” Riddle spoke idly, as though he had all the time in the world.
“It was fine.” She replied, voice softer than she would have liked. Too caught in fear to be firm.
“I heard your grades have been improving. Top of your class, aren’t you now?”
“Third, actually.”
“Top in the ways that matter.” Voldemort brushed her words aside. “After all, you trail behind a Mudblood and a half-breed.” She flinched and his lips stretched into a grin - full of knowing and nothingness. “It was not hard to find out. An unfortunate name for such a boy, too.”
“Why are you so interested in my classmates?”
“It lies with my fascination with you.” His dark eyes roamed her and for a moment, she felt utterly cold and naked. Too exposed and too frightened to move. “There will come a day, Miss Black, when you must decide your loyalties. I am not blind to think they would ever reside with your parents, and what a shame it is for them.” He stepped closer, fingers deftly catching her wrist and lifting it to the light - inspecting the snake that wrapped around her flesh. “I thought it foolish of Flint to take such a young witch as a bride. Too much wasted time waiting. Now, I suspect he saw something in you before anyone else did.”
“Mr Riddle?”
“One day… you will have to decide. But, I’m afraid, today you must face something entirely different.” He released her arm, letting it fall to her side as he regarded her with utter fascination. “These wheels have been in motion for a great while, and I am loathe to let them halt. Not when the experiment is half the fun.” His lips stretched into that eerie false smile and Ara barely managed to suppress her shudder. And then, it was as though a light flickered within the darkness of his gaze. Something new and utterly terrifying. “I wonder… what kind of witch you’ll turn out to be.”
With that, he apperated away - vanished on the spot with all his usual force. It whipped her hair across her face, spinning her towards the door as her wand slipped into her palm.
And there, eye twitching with rage, stood her betrothed.
He must have been watching a while, if the look of utter murder was anything to go by. Seeing his Lord show interest in the girl he had shackled to himself.
Because there was the ugly truth to Olin Flint.
Though Pureblood, he lacked a vault in as deep a level as that of the Black family. His great ancestral house was bought two hundred years prior; too young to be considered as grands as the rest. And it was obvious to a Black. To any Pureblood with pride on their name.
His clothes were made by the same tailors, just slightly cheaper fabrics. His shoes were pristine but from a previous season.
He was a man seeking esteem through this engagement.
And he would not let anyone get in the way of his plotting. Not when he had spent years forging new ideas for this witch. This girl that kept being stubborn and unruly and frankly… was the most entertaining thought-experiment to occupy his mind.
Her undoing would be all the satisfaction he’d need.
“What an… interesting haircut.” Flint spoke finally, stepping inside and waving the door locked with his wand. “I see you’ve decided to tweak the bracelet.”
Ara looked down at the cuff on her wrist, shining gold defiantly. She raised her eyes to meet Flint’s with a gleam of malice.
“It didn’t match my earrings.” She quipped, prompting a sudden and sharp laugh from the man. It startled her briefly, faltering her composure for just a moment. But a moment too long. She saw the twinkle return to Flint’s cold eyes and she knew that she was done for.
She barely raised her wand before he silently waved his own to fling it from her hand. The redwood clattering as it settled on the ground.
“Sile cor meum.” He whispered, wand suddenly pointed at her wrist. The band grew blindingly hot, searing her skin as the gold exterior was burned away; returning to its original silver state. She winced in pain, clenching her teeth hard to stop from screaming as her eyes squeezed shut. Clutching at her arm, she felt the bond screaming back - Sirius crying out in the Potter Manor as he tried to share the load.
At once, she slammed the bond shut; the sever like a guillotine as she heard the echoes of her twin screaming before nothing at all. Only silence and fog as she refused to let him take this agony himself. This was her burden.
A hand gripped at her jaw tightly, lips crashing down on hers.
And then the pain was gone. The impact broke it away, and she was too caught in her body relaxing in the absence of it that she didn’t comprehend the lips still attached to hers. She could only think about the taste of blood in her mouth.
Until a tongue started trying to pry.
Her eyes flew wide open and she shoved her hand between their faces, forcing him backwards. His grip on her pulled her downwards as he fell back - knocking her onto her knees. From the floor, slightly sprawled out; Flint looked to her with heavy lidded eyes.
“Are you done yet?” His voice was low. “Do you honestly think I will be denied what I was promised? Did you think that half-breed would taint you enough that I wouldn’t get what I am owed?” He rose until he knelt before her - the gap dangerously small and her limbs too shocked to scramble an escape. “Do you really believe I was not prepared for you? I could have had that Greengrass bint and I refused it for you! I saw what you are and I knew you’d be perfect.”
His hand reached for her jaw again, and she tried to swat it away. In the air, his hand found her wrist - fingers digging into the burns. She let out a sharp cry, trying to yank her hand free.
This would not happen. She refused to let herself be trapped this way.
Her mind was never her own, but that did not mean Flint could take it from her. It would always be her and Sirius.
Twin stars, bound by gold.
“What are you going to do? You can’t imperius me! My bloody twin bond prevents that.” She spat in his face, seeing droplets of red splatter his cheeks.
Those words should have reduced him - and yet he did not get angrier or squeeze his fingers into her burnt flesh again. Instead he looked at her as though she were a child. Some naive and fragile thing that was utterly endearing and pathetic all at once.
It made her feel small.
“Do you think I did not have that knowledge? Do you think I honestly didn’t plan for that?” He smiled wickedly, moving her arm to his face. She let him, too bone weary to protest. Flint ran his eyes over the bracelet, ignoring the red band of flesh. He looked to her again, continuing with a softer voice - as though she were something precious. The whiplash made her nauseous. “Did you never wonder about the third charm embedded in the bracelet? It’s a gift from our Lord. Well, an invention that I’ve seen fit to borrow. An imperius keyed to the blood, binding your will to mine. It goes beyond bonds.”
She gulped, well aware of the charm her cousin had spotted. Now she knew why Bellatrix knew it. Knowing that fact didn’t seem to help much with the fear coursing through her veins. Had Dorea found a solution yet?
Oh Merlin, please let Dorea have found me a way out. Please get me out.
She hoped Sirius would hear her. And then, she hoped he wouldn’t. She hoped he was coming to save her, like a child waiting for a knight from a story. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t terrified for him if he managed to reach her.
“Two words and you’ll stop all this… temper tantrum. Two words and I could make you kill that mutt yourself.” He placed his hands on the sides of her face - dropping her arm limply. Her eyes were half closed - her brain fuzzing at the edges of her thoughts. If Sirius was trying to talk to her, she couldn’t hear him. Everything was too foggy. She looked down at her bracelet, spying the green stones glowing dangerously. Whatever Flint had done to remove her colour charm, had also ignited an awful sense of emptiness within her. She couldn’t hear her twin in her mind anymore. A fog between them that neither had erupted.
Had she done it? There had been pain, she was certain of that. Was it all her fault?
She looked back up to Flint, blinking slowly as she tried to fight off the effects of his spells. It was as though her body - already tired from the previous torture - was unable to find the strength to move. She was trapped in her mind, scratching at an impervious barrier and crying for help.
Flint pulled his wand from his pocket.
“Semper fidelis.” He whispered, pointing his wand at the bracelet - right above the head of the snake.
For a moment, Ara Black was half-conscious and fighting for freedom one moment, and then… there was simply nothing.
Nothing but fear and emptiness. She could see but she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. The words to say were simply no longer there. There were no opinions to be had; she could hardly understand a thing she heard. A passenger in her own brain - surrounded by an eerie stillness. A chill down to her bones.
It felt as though it lasted an eternity wrapped into forty seconds.
Because as soon as it had clawed into her, suddenly she felt its lack of presence. Ara was shoved back into the forefront of her mind, and promptly turned to her side and vomited.
There were hands holding up her hair and she went to claw them away - panicked that the idea of Flint touching her again.
Hermie, let me help.
She turned her head, wiping her sleeve over her mouth as she spied the eyes of her favourite twin. The pain in her body was no more as she jumped from a seat and wrapped her arms around him - sobbing with relief that he’d gotten her out.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, she breathed in relief; the bond reconnecting and her memories flooding into his mind. As his own began to leak through, he snapped them back - body tense. She pulled away, brow furrowing at the guilty look he held.
“What happened?” She whispered aloud, finally looking around the room.
They were in the Potter Manor. A room in the East wing; home to Dorea and Charlus. Not her bedroom - that was right in the middle of the Manor (in neither wing of the house). Instead, she found herself in the room Dorea kept for her research and experimentation. One laden with dozens of wards imbedded in the walls and flooring.
In her flood of awareness, she had completely failed to notice Dorea and Regulus - the former holding a scorching circle of silver. Both with expressions of relief… and sorrow. She dragged her body over to Reggie, squeezing her arms around him in relief at his safety.
“How long?” She begged to know, looking to all three of them - trying to will her eyes to stay dry.
Her gaze locked onto Regulus - her little brother that could never lie to her for long - pleading with him to be honest.
“Six days.” She winced in reply, clutching onto him tighter.
“Are you alright?” She panicked, pulling back to run her eyes over him; assessing for any traces of their family’s touch. He seemed physically fine.
“That’s not important.” He whined, frowning. “Are you?”
She shuddered in reply, wrapping her arms around him again. He was so familiar, and so warm. And gods, she’d been so cold. It was so nice to be warmed.
Looking back to Sirius, she blinked in shock - finally taking in his altered appearance.
Replacing his usual dark brown hair was a shade of deep crimson - complimenting his cool skin quite nicely.
“I doubt I’m feeling as snazzy as my twin, but I’m alright.” She reached over and ruffled his hair, ignoring the ache to her joints as she moved.
With a sudden thud, the doors swung open, Charlus rushing through the doors - pulling Ara into his secure arms. She melted into his embrace, a sob escaping her throat as he soothed her.
“My darling, darling star.” He sighed, kissing the crown of her head in relief. Dorea watched on, almost swaying with her urge to reach out for the girl. Eyes sparkling as she blinked back emotion; too much grief inside, threatening to overcome her in thick waves. “I’m so very glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” She sniffled. “I missed you.” Though she had not felt the passing of time, Ara knew those words were correct. She had truly missed Charlus and Dorea in those few hours she could remember. “I wish I’d never left.”
“Not as much as I.” He sighed, soothing her hair as he held her tight. “And I will not be letting them get their claws on you again.”
“How?” She gawked, pulling back in disbelief.
“I was meeting with Alastor. He recons we’ve enough evidence to warrant a formal Order of Hinderance against your mother.” Her eyes lit up, understanding flooding her. And Order of Hinderance stated that a person had harmed another severely enough to prevent them access to that person or spaces they reside. It meant she physically couldn’t be near her mother, and as such couldn’t go back to Grimmauld. “We’ve taken you up as our ward until you’re of age.” Charlus’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her fondly, puffing his chest a little; as though so very proud of his words. To have her as his ward. “I told you, you’re one of mine.”
She returned to his arms, sobbing in gratitude.
“What about the betrothal?” She spluttered, wiping tears away harshly as she pulled away.
“Since it was witnessed by a party separate to both of your families, we have to contest it once you turn seventeen.” Charlus sighed. “But as our ward, you will be expected to finish your entire schooling before any such affairs take place. It gives us two more years, Ara.”
Ara reached for him and Dorea, pulling the pair into an embrace of gratitude - if only for those two more years.
“They kept you at Grimmauld. For nearly a week, we couldn’t get access. Even Reg was banned from the house. But then Wally accepted an invitation to tea in Diagon Alley with some other Pureblood wives. Reg caught word from Kreacher that she was bringing you - to show off how she’d finally tamed you, she said.” He winced, shaking his head to dispel the thought. “We managed to intercept her as you both arrived. You… were so weird.”
His memories bled through into her mind, that very morning playing out from his perspective.
He was ready the second that Walburga turned away to brush off the Floo dust, Sirius moving to pull his twin straight back into the Floo - calling out Grimmauld Place. Once there, he immediately hurried them straight to Potter Manor, stumbling out coughing ash and dust. Charlus popped through soon after, immediately hurrying to the Ministry once he’d seen that Sirius had his twin. Following that was the arrival of Dorea and Reg, the latter immediately honing in on his big sister; griping her arms to look at her properly. It was then, that Sirius finally truly looked at his twin.
Her hair was pulled into a fancy updo to hide the choppy layers - beauty charms to conceal the scars on her face. The gold ring around her nostril gone, the hole hidden by another charm. Donning stuffy robes, face blank and eyes empty. She tilted her head as she looked at him, as though waiting to be told what to do.
“Ara?” Reg whispered, shaking her slightly. She merely followed the movement, stopping when he stopped and blinking at him blankly. Sirius watched on with a wince, trying his hardest to claw his way through the smog separating them in their mind.“Where are you?”
“Potter Manor.” Her voice was slightly horse, as though hardly used in those six days. The tone was nothing like usual. No dry wit or sarcasm. Instead, it was soft and simple, as though just stating an objective fact.
“Come on, dear.” Dorea’s voice broke their daze, as the older woman linked an arm with Ara’s leading her from the Hall. Pain sparkled - barely held back - in the woman’s eyes as they flickered to her child. There were simply no words to describe how she felt. To see her child this way… to have been so very helpless to prevent it.“Shall we get you all cleaned up?” She smiled, willing the glisten of her eyes not to form into tears as she waved her wand to dispel the beauty charms.
The boys watched on from behind, trailing absently. Helplessly.
Ara forced herself out of the memory, not daring to see what she had been like in that state.
And she let Dorea hug her once more. Let the elder witch soothe her hair and hold her close. It felt like minutes since she’d seen her mother, moments since her mind had been free.
Not days.
With polite excuses and careful weaving, Ara pulled away from the concerned group. Siting a need for a moment alone. A breath of fresh air before perhaps taking a rest.
Will you be alright? Her twin murmured with concern; his fingertips at the edges of their bond with nervous frets. As gently as she could with the wince of her headache, she pressed warmth against his touch. A soft promise that things were okay.
His hand met her pocket as he hugged her in parting, a silent nod as she stepped from the room and made her way free.
She ended up by the back of the house. Stood between the opal wall and Effie’s flowerbeds. Finger’s clutched around a cigarette from the pack Sirius’ had manoeuvred her way. Lit with a silent spell; one now effortless from practice.
Her twin knew her too well sometimes. And given the situation, no one would prevent her vices.
Ara took a drag, sighing out the exhale as her eyes roamed the trees. Reg’s cat circled her legs, rubbing against her occasionally. Always gravitating her way, despite being her brother’s familiar. In a way, Crookshanks felt like the bond between the pair of them. Living as a cat, opposed to some bland mental connection.
Her hair pulled upon her head as she forced the pins free. Yanking fingers through the knots as she pulled the choppy layers back into place. The thick sleeves of her robes caught with each movement until, with a growl (and the placement of her cigarette between her teeth), she tugged each button loose and dropped the outer robes.
Next, she worked on loosening the corseted back of her dress. Fingers plucking each string until she could finally breathe. If only to inhale the cigarette once more.
“Room for one more?” She turned with a faint smile to see her youngest brother hovering between the open doors.
“As long as you don’t ask to partake.” She warned, stamping out her cigarette.
“I’d prefer not.” Regulus wrinkled his nose. “I’m alright with that being a you hobby.”
“Tell that to Sirius.” She grumbled in reply, counting her cigs and not failing to notice the two that were suspiciously missing.
“I think my bloody cat likes you more than me.” He jokingly muttered as Crookshanks continued to brush against Ara’s ankles.
“I am way cooler than you, to be fair.”
“Piss off.” He laughed, bumping her shoulder with his - crumpling the hand-me-down denim jacket she knew had once been James’s. As he noticed her inspection, her brother pulled something long and thin from the inside pocket to thrust her way. “I managed to get your wand from father’s office. Snuck in.” He beamed proudly as he held the redwood between them.
“Cheers.” She ruffled his hair.
“And I…” his eyes darted from hers, looking out at the gardens with utter melancholy, “they got the Order of Hinderance, because I gave them pictures.”
“Pictures?” she frowned, glancing at his nervous demeanour.
“I got Lily to take pictures of your bruises after Easter. She didn’t want to, but I bribed her and promised you’d never find out. Suppose I broke that.” He huffed an awkward laugh.
“How did she pull that off?” Ara gawked; brow creased deeply.
“Snuck ‘em while you were showering.” He admitted with red cheeks.
“I’m going to kill her.” Ara smiled tightly, taking a quick puff of her cigarette. “What did I miss, anyways? ”
“Hogwarts letters came through. Don’t worry, yours is in your room here.” He smiled. “Remus has gone back to bed, but apparently he’s made prefect. And you got a heavy letter from Lily that I suspect is her confirming the same.”
“Wicked.” She grinned back. “Now I’ve got two prefect friends to get me out of detentions.”
“Maybe try not getting in detention in the first place? Just a thought.”
“But how else will Lily regain my trust after taking bloody nudie shots of me?”
“She only took pictures of your arms!” Reg tried to justify; pausing with a gulp at Ara’s half-furious eyes.
“I suggest you flee before you get a smacking, Reggie.” She warned, lightly. Her brother parted with a quick kiss to her cheek before a rush indoors.
With a sigh, Ara leant against the opal wall; head tilted back to watch the clouds.
Sometimes when the castle got too much for her and Pandora, they would lie and spy shapes within the white and grey. Bunnies hoping and rowboats tugging elephants. Silly things.
That day, the clouds were all shapeless.
“Merlin, you really rushed out of there.” Her head snapped back down to spy the smile of James Potter - eyes bright with relief as he regarded her.
There was something beautiful about him that day. Something in how the summer seemed to make him glow from hours spent in his gardens playing Quidditch. Complimented by his bright red vest; patterned with fine gold stripes.
At the end of his scan of her extremities, something inside the boy seceded to coil and snap - pulling him her way. Arms around her middle as he reached her.
“Jamie!” Ara breathed upon impact, wrapping her arms around him as he lifted her off the ground.
“You look ridiculous.” He grinned upon parting, his hands still on her shoulders as he assessed her with humour. “I know it’s sort of ironic, but black really isn’t your colour.”
“Well, red is certainly yours.” She laughed, tugging at the full skirt of her ridiculous dress. “I’d kill for a big shirt, right now. Or maybe one of your Quidditch jerseys. They do look awfully comfy.”
“We’ll swing by my room and I’ll grab you one.” He laughed, running a hand through his messy hair. “And after that, any idea of what next?”
“I think I both want to sleep for a week, but I’m also terrified if that’ll lead to a repeat of today. Well, a few days ago.” They shared a grimace.
“Yeah, but, you’ve got us. You don’t have to sleep alone, and I promise not to let you lose another week.”
“Alright then. I think I might be off for a nap.”
With that, James offered her his loveliest grin - tucking her under his arm as he led her up to his room.