Silent Riot | Regulus Black

FORTY FIVE

a/n- okay okay okay. mature content ahead. not detailed but mature. and I know iz just died, rip, but we needed some action in this book already.

<3

Gemma had become a shell. A mere cocoon of grief and supressed, constant guilt. Nobody knew why. Nobody remembered the girl that had died in the forest, who had sacrificed her promising, awaiting future for an undeserving nobody. All they knew was that Gemma Aston was not the girl she had once been, and now functioned like a machine with no thoughts, no joy, no feeling. Just the guilt. Just the grief, just the gaping hole that Iz had left behind. 

She'd thought the feelings following her father's death were unmatched, that she could feel no deeper grief, that she'd suffered the most that was possible to suffer. 

She'd been wrong. 

Because this was her fault. Her recklessness, her stupidity. 

Regulus and Luke had tried hard to draw her out, but they just didn't know where to start. To them, it had been like the flipping of a switch, an overnight change like some sort of long mood swing. 

Ted had tried the hardest. Gemma wasn't sure if he felt the loss of Iz's presence despite losing the memory of her, but he wasn't quite his normal, aloof self, and he sometimes seemed lost in thought. She speculated that he thought Gemma's quietness was this hole, and he tried to get her to crack a joke, or smile at one of his. She'd found him holding a bottle of the hair solution Iz had given him once, wondering where he'd gotten it from.

One Saturday, she forced herself into the Great Hall after three weeks of avoiding it. It was shocking how fast she'd faded, and she was now a whispy, faint version of the bold girl that had strutted around the castle. 

'Hi,' she muttered, sitting with Luke, Ted and Regulus. They all looked up in shock, before quickly masking it. 

'Good morning,' Luke greeted. 

'Are you coming to quidditch practise today?' Ted asked, biting into his bacon sandwich. 

'That's why I'm here,' she murmured, turning to Regulus. 'I'm quitting.'

'I was wondering when you would say that,' he admitted. 'I expect to see you at practise this evening.'

'I said I quit,' she said slowly.

'And I do not accept your resignation,' he shrugged nonchalantly. She stood up, chair scraping across the floor. 

'Well screw you, because I will not be there,' she snarled, turning and leaving. She didn't realise he'd followed her until she was out of the Hall. 

'What is wrong with you?' He asked angrily. 

'I bet you'll tell me,' she muttered.

'You're a walking corpse, you won't tell anyone why- would you stop walking away!' He grabbed her wrist but she pulled it out of grasp, jabbing her wand hard under his neck, so he was backed against the wall.

'Stop it,' she seethed. 

'What do you want me to do?' He pleaded. 'I'll do it, I can help you.' Her glacial eyes regarded his grey ones for a moment. 

'I want you to apologize to Sirius for being an egotistical dickhead over absolutely nothing that matters in the long run because one of you is going to die and then you're both going to regret not doing it sooner,' she snapped, turning around and leaving. 

She wanted an escape; and she had an idea. 

The idea led her all the way to sixth year boys' dormitory. She knocked, and thanked her lucky stars when Snyde opened the door. His brown eyes were glassy, and his usually slicked back hair was a bit of a disaster. He leaned casually with one arm against the doorframe and the other holding a beaker filled with a bluish mixture.