JULIET {remus lupin}

FOURTY FOUR

Juliet was awoken harshly by Regulus the next morning. He was shaking her shoulders and gripping onto one of her hands.

"Something's come up," he whispered to her. "He wants it done today."

"What?" The witch asked, still in a dazed state. "Who-"

"The Dark Lord," Regulus hissed. "You'll get the mark today."

Juliet sat up suddenly, not caring that Regulus could so clearly see her fear. 

"No- he said I could have a week- my father-"

"It's happening today," the boy said, standing up and straightening out his shirt. 

"Who else- Arabella?"

Regulus shook his head, "not that I know of. Only you."

"I thought I had a week," she said sadly.

His jaw stiffened as he looked at the dark haired witch in front of him, "it wouldn't have made any difference, Jules," he paused, debating his next words after their argument the previous night. "You'll be okay, I was."

"Okay," she echoed quietly.

Ophelia Rosier swooped into the room the second that the door shut from Regulus' departure. Her features softened at the sight of her childhood friend fighting back tears, she sat beside her and wrapped her arms around her tightly, wondering how to comfort the witch.

"Regulus told me it'll happen today," she whispered.

Juliet sighed and nodded her head, wiping away the stray tears that she had allowed to fall.

"There's nothing I can do about it, is there?"

"I don't think so," the witch sighed. "It's okay, after a while. The pain is bearable."

"It's not the pain I'm bothered about."

"Juliet, be careful what you say," Ophelia said, suddenly more serious.

"Fine," she huffed. "I just wish my father could be there."

"That's better," the witch smiled. "I think that Abraxas is having some trouble, though. Getting him out of Azkaban is proving harder than they expected."

"The Dark Lord can't break people out of Azkaban?" Juliet asked sourly.

Ophelia tensed, "of course he can, I didn't say that, I meant-"

"Relax, Rosier. I won't tell on you."

"The Dark Lord doesn't want to get involved in a matter which he deems as unimportant. It risks revealing himself too early."

"Unimportant? My father is-"

"Nathaniel is mediocre, at best. His loyalties are constantly questioned and he is not as useful as he may have led you to believe."

"He's my father-"

"The Dark Lord doesn't care who your father is, Romilly."

"He clearly does or else-"

"Stop," the witch hissed. "You have to be more careful of what you say."

"Why isn't Arabella getting the mark? She told me she thought she would be made to, Persephone has, after all-"

Perfectly on cue, Arabella Greengrass entered Juliet's room, followed by a sullen looking Persephone Parkinson. 

"You okay, Juliet?" Persephone asked stiffly, although the two had been on civil terms for months, it was hard to look past the differences that they had faced that year. Before the witch could respond, Arabella had thrown her arms around her and was crying harder than Juliet had all morning.