Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

22 December, 1995 - Comfort

The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place was silent and tense as the wee hours of the morning ticked by with no updates at all. Sirius had suggested at some point - he wasn't sure how long ago - that they all go to bed and at least try to get some sleep, but the answering looks of condemnation he'd received for that had been enough to convince him not to push the point. If he was honest, he hadn't really expected anyone to be either able or willing to fall asleep right now, but it had seemed worth a shot because they all looked so horribly exhausted. Sirius knew he himself was getting tired and he had had a far less stressful night than any of the rest of them.

The worst part, really, was they didn't know what the hell was happening aside from Molly's less than reassuring letter informing them that Arthur was still alive.

Still.

Like he might not stay that way. And Sirius, seeing the looks on the children's faces had known that each and every one of them had understood the critical importance of that single word.

Still.

And yet, since then, at least an hour had passed and there was no news. No nothing. Sirius, personally, thought this was probably a good thing. If Arthur had died, they would all have been informed immediately. That they hadn't heard anything at all meant that he was, for the time being, in more or less the same state he had been when Molly had first updated them. In short: no news was probably good news.

He wasn't sure the children understood that, though. And he wasn't about to suggest they try to see any sort of bright side to the situation because... well because it wasn't much of a bright side to begin with and suggesting that they ought to feel anything less than awful about this whole situation seemed like a recipe for disaster.

So instead, they all sat in silence, clutching bottles of butterbeer and staring into nothing. Hoping. Praying. Waiting.

The quiet was interrupted eventually by the soft sound of the door opening and all of the children suddenly perked up, their eyes turning to the door with petrified, hopeful stares, certain that someone - their mother probably - would be walking into the kitchen at any moment. Someone who had news. Who could tell them something - anything - about how their father was doing.

But the moment passed. And then another one. And another. And another until the silence began to slide back into that heavy, stressed place it had been all night.

After a little while Sirius, now frowning, stood. "I'll go check who it is," he said into the renewed lethargy of the room. No one answered, but then he hadn't expected them to.

Moving quickly but trying not to look too worried until he was certain he was out of sight of the children, Sirius hurried towards the front door, glancing in the rooms he passed, wondering why the hell someone had come into the house and not immediately looked for everyone else.

He saw no one until he reached the hall that led to the front door. Which was where he found her.

Lavinia was leaning back against the door, her head bowed with the heels of her palms pressed against her eyes. It was, to say the least, a less than reassuring image and Sirius took a few steps forward, feeling worry and fear curl in his chest.

"Vin?" he asked carefully, wondering what the hell she was doing here and why she was just... standing there. Why she hadn't even bothered to look for anyone else. Why every bit of her body language screamed at an exhaustion that came from more than just being up in the wee hours of the morning..

Lavinia dropped her hands at his words and looked at him for a long moment, her expression utterly exhausted. After a pause during which she said nothing at all, she pushed off the wall and walked forward, stopping a few feet in front of him.