[Book 1]
❝ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. ❞
Serena grew up well sheltered in a Muggle suburb with her mother. Little did she know what horrible past lies behind her well-known last name. Her life, which was as...
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• Serena Black •
"What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?"
Serena emerged from the Pensieve and was now alone in her room again. Still a little confused, she looked around as if she had just awoken from a deep dream. At least what she had just experienced felt similarly surreal and had left her not so much with answers but with more questions.
She didn't know what else could have happened after the last memory that had caused her father to become a Death Eater and betray his friends. He had given Serena the impression that he wanted as little to do with the dark arts as possible and had had a truly good relationship with his friends. And such an attitude did not change overnight, after all. Or did it?
If someone were to tell her the story of what had happened that Halloween evening, Serena would probably not believe it at all. She couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that something about the whole thing wasn't right at all. That she didn't know the whole story yet, there was so much more threatening behind it.
With a sigh, she lifted the Pensieve and put it back in the box, the pictures catching her eye again. Serena looked at the one with the dog chasing Peter, had the dog she had seen at Hogwarts really been her father? They looked identical, but at least there were many black dogs. Even in Scotland.
Her eyes continued to wander to the boy with the sandy coloured hair, who was he? Serena only knew that his friends called him Moony and that he was a werewolf. While this narrowed down the search, she still had no clue as to his whereabouts. It was possible that he was no longer alive. If he did, she had to find him. After all, he seemed to be the only one who could give her answers to her many questions.
A knock snapped her out of her tumultuous thoughts, "Serena?" asked her mother, who had already entered the room without waiting for an answer, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she murmured, pulling one of the pictures from her bedspread to show her mother. It was the photo that showed all four boys. With her index finger, she tapped the stranger who, at first glance, would not have suggested about himself that he was one of the most dangerous creatures of the night, "Who's that?"
The blonde woman hesitantly took the picture from her hand and looked at it for a long time, as if seeing it for the first time. Or the first time in a long time. After a while she sighed and at first looked as if she didn't like to talk about it. Then, however, a sad smile spread across her lips, "I had no one at the time, just your father and his friends. Him..." she stroked the boy's shy smile, "I always liked best. We became the best of friends and I.... I made him your godfather."
