Come Home + Sirius Black

one: the death of dorcas meadowes

A lot changed within a year. Now at the height of his power, Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters were causing havoc and ruin along their path no matter where they went. And it had already cost Charlotte one of her dear friends.

Two months prior, around the end of July, it had been reported that the enitre McKinnon family had been found dead in their homes. There were signs of a fight, but no external injuries on the bodies of any member of the family. Which only meant that it was the work of the Death Eaters, notorious for their use of the Unforgiveable Curses. The Killing Curse had its victim drop dead in an instant, much like the McKinnons had.

Marlene McKinnon was dead.

And Charlotte had never been quite the same since. For months, she had been in hiding, disconnected from the world and war around her. She emerged once in a blue moon, when a fight was to be had and Death Eaters were to be thwarted. But when she was not conducting Order business, she kept herself well-hidden. She did not linger out and about, but kept herself confined within her hideout. She was so full of fear that it had caused her to become detached from every other emotion.

Until she saw the headline, that is. After Lily, Marlene was one of her dearest friends. The three of them, along with Dorcas Meadowes, often joked about how together, they'd be able to take over the world if they wished. Marlene was Charlotte's first friend at Hogwarts, having had met her on the train their first year. And that first outreaching hand in friendship meant a lot to a Muggleborn witch who was unsure of what the future held for her. And though she was sorted into Hufflepuff while the rest had been sorted into Gryffindor, they maintained a tight-knit bond for their seven years at Hogwarts and beyond.

Naturally, the news of Marlene's fate broke her. Because Charlotte of all people knew that Marlene didn't deserve what happened to her. Marlene was kind and caring, and she knew, always, when someone was feeling off. And she knew exactly when a person needed advice, exactly when they needed comfort, or exactly when they needed comfort. She was good, through and through, and she deserved a life far better and longer than the one she was given. And Charlotte was angry. She was angry that the Death Eaters that killed her, at the world for taking one of the good ones away and letting her murderers walk free. She had had a breakdown the night she found out — or perhaps it was more of a tantrum. She remembers seeing red and throwing everything she could possibly pick up across the room. She had smashed vases and ripped up papers, she had torn her home apart until it no longer looked like a home.

And for two months, she had not even bothered to clean it up. She had no energy, no motivation left for anything. It hadn't quite mattered anyhow, because no one would see the mess she's allowed herself to live in. The only person that knew of her whereabouts was Sirius. But as of late, he very seldom came to visit. Not that she blamed him, of course; Order business always came first, and she knew that Sirius had opted for a more engaging involvement in the Order than Charlotte did.

But when he did finally stop by one night, the look on his face when he saw the mess that she had made of her home was one of pity. And the look didn't suit him.

"You know, looks of mischief suit you a lot better than ones of concern," Charlotte told him when he walked into the living room. She had just stood up from her spot on the couch when she heard him enter, and she meant to go greet him at the door, but he had beaten her there.

"Lottie..." Was all he had to say. She hated the nickname; it made her sound like a fifty year old Aunt that never married and doted far too much on her nieces and nephews. But Sirius liked to be considered special, and most of the time refused to call her Charlie like everyone else had.