The Altar of the Phoenix

She said it grieves me to see you in so much pain

I wish there was something I could do to make you smile again

14th February 1976

Remus was hunched over his hot chocolate - flinching at every noise and motion around him. The moon was full the next day, and the effects of it were clear on the poor boy. 

Made rather worse by the excited chatter of the holiday, students celebrating Valentines with great fervour. Hearts tacked to the entry of the Great Hall, sparkles amongst the candlelit ceiling. The clouds a rosy her, as though lit by sunrise. 

He was surrounded by his coupled-up friends. Lily was off to Hogsmeade on a date with Gideon Prewett, Marls back on with her girlfriend Dorcas. Sat in loved up bubbles opposite him, his single friends on his left, and his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend on his right. 

“God, I hate Valentines.” The scarred boy grubbed, taking a long sip of his warm beverage with a soft smile. 

“That’s only ‘cause you get the least gifts of all us Marauders.” Pete laughed, nudging him softly with a lovely smile. 

“Oh yes, how could I forget your yearly attempt to beat Sirius’s number of admirers.” Remus spoke dryly. 

“The real question, is will her secret admirer stop with the cards now you’re shackled to blondie over here?” Sirius jerked a thumb Tucker’s way, offering a wry smile to the boy. 

Ara grimaced, looking down at her toast. 

As the owls swooped overheard, she held her breath. 

Though she would never admit it, the odd yearly occurrence of an unsigned card was a boon to her confidence. Something she rather looked forward to, loathe as she was of that fact. It was a little mortifying to be so excited for a card from a mysterious person. After all, the sender could be ruddy Flint for all she knew. Though, considering the sketched otters one year, she doubted it very much. 

She liked to hope that it was someone who knew her well, not some potential acquaintance that had overheard her nickname.  

So when the familiar gold envelope landed atop the pile, she could not help her knife slicing it undone. An immediate pull of the card from the parchment, hidden smile at the sweet design. 

Five flowers in a meadow, painted in watercolour. One blue, one green, one purple, one red, and one that was yellow. Lined in a pretty little row. 

“It’s pretty sweet, actually.” Ara shrugged, brushing a thumb over the cursive wording. “‘To Ara, Flowers blush at comparison to you; there is no rose as charming as your smile.’ It’s cute.” Upon Tucker’s look, she placed the card down and gave him her full attention. “Not as cute as you.” She winked, her boyfriend laughing at her compliment. 

The table cooed and booed as he kissed her cheek - none seeing the dimness to her eyes. 

As the group finished their morning meal and parted ways, Ara accepted Tucker’s hand with a sad smile. 

She’d make the most of this day. One last hurrah before the inevitable finale. 

They meandered through Hogsmeade; Ara tactically avoiding crowded spots designed for lovey dovey couples. They drank at the Hogs Head, with the grumpy old man behind the bar watching over them. Ate fish and chips to minimise the risk of kissing. Conversation kept to classes and silly stories about their friends. 

It was nice. Admittedly boring, but that felt like the best way for it to be. 

As many hints as she tried to drop, Tucker remained oblivious, merely smiling her way with great fondness. It just wasn’t the fondness she had wanted. 

It was the fondness of a friend. 

They walked back to the castle, a route along the Black Lake. Hands locked in an old routine. And Ara steeled herself for what she had set out that morning to do.

“Should we sit a bit, just to escape the rush of crowds on their way back to the castle?” She asked, her lovely boyfriend grinning and kissing her cheek as he pulled her to the grass. Transfiguring his hanky into a picnic blanket with a practiced wink. 

It was colder than the last Valentines. Still that chill of winter to the air; a frost that slung to the edges of the grassy verges. Faint crackles along tree trunks. A feel of foreboding to the eerie still, to the growing gloomy clouds on the horizon. 

As Pandora had said, the clouds were darkening. Like ash in the air, that crackle of magic like a whisper right behind the ear. A blur in the very corner of the eye. 

But she could not dwell on that now. There were other things to face before the darkness. 

Other heartbreaks before the fight began. 

“Tuck.” Ara sighed softly, looking to the boy with gentle eyes. He flushed slightly, a hint of confusion in his brow. 

“Ara?”

“This has been nice, hasn’t it?” She gave him a sad smile, presenting a mask of nerves rather than resignation. 

“Yeah. Hogsmeade was lovely today.” He beamed, still looking confused but trying to keep things upbeat.

“That’s not what I mean.” Ara sighed. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m sorry if I say something rubbish or mess up my meanings.”

“Done what?” Tucker asked warily, tensing up at what he knew would follow. 

“We’ve had a wonderful time together, haven’t we,” Ara continued on with her planned speech, knowing she had to see it through. “And I do love you Tucker, just like I’m sure you love me… but we don’t love each other in the way that we thought we would. I know we’ve tried, I know we’ve put in the effort, but it isn’t enough. We’re two friends trying to do something that…” she swallowed, her mouth feeling heavy, “maybe we shouldn’t do.”

“Ara,” he tried to interject, but she continued on.

“You don’t love me that way. And, I don’t either. And we could keep this up all year but I don’t think it would change anything. And I know that you know I’m right on this one.”

She stopped there and looked away from Tucker’s wide eyes to the patch of grass that she had been ripping up while she spoke. When she looked back, she saw understanding. 

He had always been an open book throughout their relationship - something it seemed his pureblood upbringing couldn’t hinder - and in this moment she could see his relief that she was the one to broach the topic. And it chipped her heart. To see this boy that she was beginning to love look so relieved to have her break up with him. To say it was awful would be an understatement. In fact, Ara would have preferred being cruciod by her mother to doing this. 

Besides, she was sure that this was the start of something great for Alice. Ara could see it. Alice dating Tucker, Frank finally getting his head out of his arse and asking her out once it fell to pieces. She hoped so. 

Every Gryffindor knew of Frank Longbottom’s ginormous crush on the sweet girl. 

And everyone knew the girl’s type was tall, muscular blonds. 

“I’m sorry,” broke her out of her thoughts, to see that Tucker had started to cry. She hadn’t expected it, but it made sense. He looked so guilty to have felt so relieved, to be not in love and happy that she wasn’t too. 

“Hey, hey,” she wiped the tears from his face delicately, trying to keep her own from falling. “It’s alright, Tuck. We can’t help who we do and don’t fall in love with. And at least we feel the same way.” She lied, softly. He believed her though, laughing through the tears and nodding. 

“We had fun though. We did, didn’t we?” He asked her hopefully, scanning her mask and finding it satisfactory. That was the thing with Tucker Clearwater; he was easy to fool. It was why she’d gone out with him in the first place. 

He was the easiest mark. The sweet boy who’d be flattered the right amount, would treat her nicely, and would believe her when she used him to get over her dumb crush on James. Well. It had worked out alright. 

Here they were, her heart shattering as she reassured the boy that everything was fine between them. As they promised to be as close as before, just without the snogging. To try out friendship, knowing it was for the sake of a girl she slept in a room with. 

Knowing she would crack her heart just to give Alice the timeline she needed. To give her the chance to have the Neville of Ara’s dreams and Hermione’s memories. Sweet Neville. 

“Tucker Clearwater, you have become one of my closest friends. If you think that’ll stop, you’re mad.” She grinned to him, ruffling his hair in an incredibly platonic gesture - one that further reassured him. He reached forwards and threw his arms around her, swallowing her in a bear hug. 

She hugged him back just as tightly - trying to stop her heart from being so ridiculous - and let her mask fall for the briefest of moments. She thought that if anyone could have seen her face, they would have seen a picture of complete misery. 

By the time they’d parted, her mask was back up and she was smiling at him with friendly eyes. He was looking back at her with a similarly pleasant and content look. 

“Thank you, Ara, for asking me out.” Tucker smiled to her. “You were the best first proper girlfriend I could have ever had.” She giggled at his words appropriately, rolling her eyes to show she was glad too but also thought he was being ridiculous. “And I’m sorry that we didn’t love each other.”

“No apologies.” She reassuringly threatened, squeezing his shoulder. “We don’t need them. We know how we feel.” 

He nodded, smiling at her shyly. 

They stayed sat there a little longer before Tucker told Ara that he was a little cold and might head in. She wished him well, told him she was going to stay out there longer and head back later so no one in her Common Room bothered her. He promised to try and break the news for her, which she appreciated.

She did not want to be the one to tell Sirius. Knowing him and his weird over protectiveness, he’d cheer and set off fireworks. 

He parted with a final hug and apology - to which she rolled her eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. He accepted it, told her he was lucky she was so smart that she could read him when he hadn’t read her. She nearly laughed at that, at how true it was. 

Tucker Clearwater left with a clear head and a chest feeling like he’d just taken an elephant off it. And Ara Black was left sat by the Lake, watching the boy she liked being happy she’d broken things off. 

And it sucked. 

There’s not a nicer way to phrase that, no sweet and polite way to acknowledge to yourself that while you did everything you set out to, it left you broken hearted. 

She kept the mask of happiness on until she was sure he was gone. Until she was sure she was alone. And when she was certain, she dropped it. Her smile sagged in and her eyes dimmed as she tried not to cry.

It was fruitless. 

Soon all she could do was wipe the tears away and watch the colours across the lake. 

It felt like the world didn’t want her as a featured player. It wanted to stay some preset course, remove her from the mix and keep things twisting until Hermione’s time. Until that torturous future of death and child soldiers. He would date her housemate, eventually meeting some Muggle and settling down with her. Penelope would be around again, just for Hermione Granger to use her name during war out of desperation. 

And one day, Frank and Alice would get married, have a child and face torture so extreme that it would cripple them. There wasn’t anything she could do to change it, and she was tired of it. 

How much had her presence shifted? How many things did Ara’s living change? 

She dreaded to ponder the answers, too fearful that her living may be the catalyst for the something awful she dreamt about. 

Hell, maybe Alice and Tuck would end up together. Have a different Clearwater baby, and Frank would find another girl. That would be the worst fate. To know that she merely witnessed this horrible future in her slumber, that these memories would have no effect. 

That she could not save any of them. 

When had the sun started setting? She ought to get inside. Sighing, she picked up her bag of Hogsmead goods and wiped away her final tears - hitting herself with a beauty charm to hide her puffiness - and headed inwards. She’d go to dinner, sit by Sirius and tell everyone that everything was fine. And then, after all her housemates and Sirius were asleep and she had cast a muffliato, she would let herself properly cry. 

As she stalked back inside, so concerned with maintaining appearances, she didn’t spy the glimmer of an invisibility cloak. Nor did she know just how long the boy beneath had been watching.