The Heartbreak Prince || Sirius Black

8. Visions from Hypnos

"Thanks for your help, Lily."

It was late in the afternoon. Andrew and Lily were wading around in the Great Lake inspecting the plants growing from its floor. The Ravenclaw nervously remained in the shallow parts of the lake while his friend stood knee-deep in it without hesitation.

The Gryffindor witch bent down to pick at some of the greenery before answering, narrowing her eyes at the plant's margins.

"Of course," Lily said, shaking the plant free of water. "Wouldn't want you to be taken away by the merfolk."

Andrew only hummed at the idea.

Although he knew she was joking, she wasn't necessarily wrong.

By the time they could understand more complex stories, Veela children were told to stay away from large bodies of water—telling them various tales of evil mermaids who would snatch innocent beings from land and drown them in the water with glee. In other versions, they were capable of luring men purely with their voices, enchanting them to bow down to their very knees before they were torn apart and eaten—leaving only their bones behind in the sand.

The Veela could recall every single terrifying detail from those stories, sometimes even visualizing them in his dreams. His mother would tell them to him before bed, saying that merfolk especially enjoyed taking misbehaved boys.

These myths were derived from many generations before them, and it perpetuated deep fear in all of them. Because of its longevity, belief and superstition were strong in the Veela community, causing an increase in remedies and spiritual practices. It was rare to find a Veela who didn't believe.

Growing up, Andrew's mother would perform little protection rituals on them if they ever went swimming. She made a fuss about it if they ever attempted to swim without it—a small detail he admits he missed about his then-sober mother.

There was one time the young Veela had managed to escape the practice.

He was young when he entered the waters of the Calanque d'En-Vau. While they were setting up, his parents began to rummage through their bags in hopes of finding Geneviève's oils—which were infused with herbs and potions that supposedly repelled merfolk. They were too distracted to pay attention to the young Veela, and after a long hike, Andrew was too frustrated to sit still.

He stealthily walked over to the water—the color so blue it looked like he was walking through the sky. The water was cool and refreshing after a day of being under the harsh sun.

Andrew almost let out a breath of relief.

The Veela had swam up just far enough for his feet to barely graze the ground. He closed his eyes and let himself float above the surface, getting lost in the wave's motions. He stayed there for a moment when he felt something touch his leg. He didn't think much about it until his mother began shouting in fear.

He never told his friends about the attack.

The Ravenclaw was too ashamed about the incident, wishing he had listened to his parents. He still had the marks on his leg: horrific scars left behind by the mermaid's claws. Recounting the story brought back the fear, the desperate need for air, and shining eyes in the water.

Whenever he had to uncover the lesion, he would cast a glamour charm to hide them from the public eye.

He would rather forget.

Whenever his friends would suggest a swim, it was easier to say he feared the Black Lake.

Regardless of the lie, the boy wouldn't be surprised if Lily, Remus, and Dorcas were aware of Veela folklore—knowing their deep love for knowledge—but they were kind enough not to question his hesitations over the lake.