𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺

Chapter 80 - Priori Incantatem

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"Fred, do you want space or attention?"

"Spattention."

"You are an idiot, Frederick."

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It felt like hours had passed since Betelgeuse saw Sirius sprint towards the Castle. As soon as the older Black had perceived the uneasy voice of his niece slither into his mind, he had chased Harry and Alastor Moody without a second thought.

Betelgeuse, however, was petrified.

She could not move a muscle even if she wanted to, let alone assist Sirius. She remained seated on the deserted stands as the night embraced the sky.

Motionless.

As the statues of old endured the changes of the seasons, the Heir of House Black felt detached, impassive, dead.

The cold shell of the once ever beaming and lovely charismatic Cedric Diggoryhad been removed from the grounds. Nothing remained to witness the tragedy that had taken place except the grievous silence of the night.

Betelgeuse felt a presence beside her as she gazed up at the starless sky.

"Fred is with Ginny. She couldn't stop shaking and crying. Suppose we'll find them in our dorm."

Turning her head, Betelgeuse met her best friend's red and swollen eyes. She could not speak; he could not offer words of solace.

George gifted her with his best, alas, wobbly smile. The auburn-haired Gryffindor felt hopeless as he stared at the tragic change in the young woman's eyes. They were two molten grey pools of despair. He, who had always managed to make her smile, currently did not know how to return her eyes to their usual sparkle.

Betelgeuse raised her right hand and brushed George's freckled cheek with a feater-like touch. "Do not fret, George, your companionship provides me with enough consolation."

He smiled, cupping her hand with his larger one. "You're a Legilimens, aren't you?"

Betelgeuse stared, unmoving, into George's placid eyes. "Am I?"

The Black witnessed George flinch as he sensed her voice inside his mind for the first time, then the young man chuckled, shaking his head. "It took me years to figure it out. What kind of best friend am I?"

The grey-eyed witch's pale visage faintly illuminated with a reticent smile for the first time on that night.

"The best kind, George."

✩✩✩

"Miss Black?"

Betelgeuse turned around with George, peering up at Professor McGonagall. The older woman looked pale and tired; a look of defeat had taken the place of her usual stern frown. "Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you in his office."