[Book 3]
❝ 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝. ❞
Voldemort is back, only the Ministry just wouldn't see it. Instead, they send the Pink Plague to Hogwarts and accuse Serena's father, the acquitte...
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• Serena Black •
"If nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life."
The next few days flew by and the day of her return to Hogwarts drew ever closer. Serena seemed to be like the others in this respect, because as long as Umbridge was in charge of their school, no one wanted to go back.
Her father also seemed to be getting worse every day and he was hiding away in his bedroom more and more often. Serena couldn't blame him because she didn't even like Grimmauld Place when it was full to the brim with people.
Night had already fallen and the Gryffindor was already lying in her bed when she suddenly had an idea. She still seemed to be running on the spot when it came to the supposed family secret. But one person, who was probably no less involved in the whole thing, hadn't asked her yet and was completely within her reach; her grandmother.
This idea was risky, Serena knew. After all, it was the middle of the night and she didn't want Walburga Black to wake up the whole house with her screaming. But that didn't deter her from her plan, because this was her last night in the Blacks' old house.
She carefully peeled herself out of bed and tried to sneak out of the room as quietly as a cat, because as far as Serena could tell, her cousin was sleeping peacefully in her bed.
The rotten steps of the old staircase creaked with every step she took, but fortunately not loud enough to cause a stir. Serena would not be so lucky in the entrance hall. It was so sparsely lit that she promptly tripped over something she didn't recognise and a clattering noise probably woke up the whole house at that moment.
Serena's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she silently cursed to herself. As she did so, she could see two eyes scrutinising her from the wall with an icy gaze. "A Black should be skilful, elegant and not stumble over doorsteps."
Serena grimaced. She was about to say something in reply or at least ask one of the questions that had been bothering her for months, but a sudden glare made her squint.
"Serena?" Her father had poked his head through the door leading to the parlour and looked at her in astonishment. He was still wearing his everyday clothes and Serena could smell the pungent odour of firewhiskey.
"I couldn't sleep," she mumbled and realised with satisfaction that that wasn't even a lie. He scrutinised her briefly before sighing, "Me neither. Why don't you come in for a minute?"
All that was left of the previously crackling fire in the fireplace was a half-extinguished ember that crackled now and again. Serena sat down on the battered armchair, the springs of which had slipped out of place. She couldn't help but notice her father trying to discreetly push the bottle of high-proof alcohol behind the armchair.
