Sirius's son

Mass breakout

Rigel looked ready to puke as he stared at the ten faces from his copy of the daily prophet.

"Rigel?"

"Ri are you alright?"

"What happened Rigel?"

Her friend's voices went in one ear and out the other. The ten faces staring up at her from the newspaper captivated all of her attention. Some of them were jeering; others looking insolent. Nine wizards, one witch.

It was that one witch's face that had jumped at him the moment the owl dropped the Daily Prophet on her lap. She had long dark hair, that was unkempt and disheveled. Like his father, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something — perhaps Azkaban — had taken most of her beauty.

"Bellatrix Lestrange escaped from Azkaban," Rigel croaked, his throat gone dry.

Hermione was quietly reading the prophet loud enough for Rigel to hear.

"Mass breakout... Ten prisoners... Outside help..."

People were reading it all across the hall, loud gasps, and murmurs. Not many people got the prophet daily, but the few students who had were passing around their copy as the news made its way down the gossip train.

Rigel stood up quickly, and if it weren't for all the other students sharing the bench, it would have toppled over by how fast he had risen. The vomit which he had been withholding from the news of his Aunt's escape was returning at full speed as more people turned to look at him.

He pushed open the doors of the Great Hall, stumbling his way out of sight and into the Entrance Hall. He attempted to get outside before, but he could no longer hold it in. Pressing a hand to the cold stones of the wall, Rigel doubled over as his entire breakfast came rushing out of his mouth.

Blood was pounding in his ears, his heart ramming against his rib cage. Hands shaking, he lowered herself to the ground, ignoring the fact that he was sitting beside his vomit. He had to calm down, he had to stop before he could not breathe.

He had survived this before, hadn't he? For the first three years, he had gotten used to the stares, glares, and hexes thrown in his way.

He was trying to draw in a breath, but he couldn't. He felt someone was choking him. His head was spinning as he gasped for breaths out of reach.

He had been through this before, he had survived. So, why did it feel like this was the end? Tears ran down his face as struggled. He had to be okay. But the fear, the panic, it was overwhelming. Screaming, yelling, wailing, roaring; too many thoughts, too many decisions, too many actions.

"Rigel, it's alright, I'm here." a soft and familiar voice said. "I'm here Rigel. Please just... try and focus on me. Count ten in French"

"I- I can't" he gasped

"You can do this. Put your head between your knees, and listen to me, okay?"

There was pressure on his head, pushing it down to his knees. Real hands. Not the ones that had seized at his throat. He knew this touch, knew that it meant he was safe.

He didn't raise his head, but he pulled her closer. Breathing in deeply, savoring each breath. It felt as if he had just crashed through the ocean surface, breathing air after you had just struggled to kick off the floor. Rigel leaned his head on Eliza's shoulder

"I can't—They just—Bellatrix is—Everyone was—" Rigel stumbled.

"I know sweetie. Just breathe with me," said Eliza, stroking his hair.