Silent Riot | Regulus Black

EIGHTEEN

Gemma stepped into Dumbledore's office for the second time in her life. This time she was clutching the vial of tears tightly in her hand. 

Dumbledore was pacing when she found him. 

'Ah, Miss Aston,' he said, peering at her over his half- moon spectacles. 'I've been wondering when you would arrive.' She didn't say anything; she didn't have to. He led her to the pensieve. 

'What do I do?' she said

He took the vial of tears and poured it into the water. 

'Now, put your head in there,' he said. She stared.

'I'll drown.'

'You won't,' he assured her. She stared at him for another moment. 

Ah fuck it, she thought. Dying doesn't seem too bad anyway.

The second she dunked her head under the water, shapes made of black ink began to develop around her, until she was standing in a house; her house. Except the walls weren't yet olive green, instead they were a brilliant white.

Genevieve, her mother, was there holding a baby. Next to her stood... Gemma's father. They were deep in conversation with the wizard opposite them; Dumbledore. He was talking calmly, but Genevieve was antagonised, speaking with her hands, frustration painted on her face.

Gemma ran towards her father.

'You're here? How? Can you hear me? Dad!' She cried. She tried to grab his arm, but her hand passed straight through it, and the image dissolved.

She stumbled into- through- past a wall, and the setting changed. She was in a clearing. A masked man dressed all in black stood on one side, wand raised. Her mother stood on the other.

'Mother!' She shouted. There was no reaction. 'I don't understand!' Panic began to rise.

'Looks like we've reached the end, Genevieve,' the masked man said, a sickly smile on his face. 

Green light shot out of his wand, directly at Gemma. She cried out and stumbled to the side. She tripped; but instead of landing on grass, the scene changed again, and she landed on a hard, wooden floor.

She stood groaning. With much difficulty she willed herself to be calm. It's not real, she said. It's just a memory. 

This time, she regarded the setting with a clear, focused mind. She was in a decrepit shack of some sort, with mould growing on the ceiling and plaster peeling off the walls. There was shouting from the next room. She followed the noise.

'You promised I could be home for Easter!' Genevieve roared. 'I missed my girl's fourth birthday! And her fifth! I'm sick of this Albus- I want a life!'

'I understand that,' Albus Dumbledore reasoned. 'And I tried to-'

'You didn't try,' Genevieve snarled. 'You tricked me. I didn't want this.'

'Genevieve-'

'I didn't sign up to never see my family again!'

'I understand that. Eventually, Gemma will join you.' Upon hearing this, confusion seeped through Gemma. She had absolutely no idea what was going on. Apparently, Dumbledore hadn't really succeeded in placating her mother though, because she raised her wand, fumes almost visibly coming out of her ears.

'How dare you even implicate that Gemma should ever have to join us,' she said in a dangerously quiet voice. 'Everything I'm doing, are you saying it's for-' her voice broke with emotion, 'for nothing?'