"It's lonely to be more powerful than any man you know."
- Merlin
Twelve years after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort and put an end to the First Wizarding War, the Wizarding world is shaken by the news that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban. But no...
SHALL I MAKE A CUP OF TEA? ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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"Do you think he is still asleep?" Hermione asked anxiously; for once she seemed to have problems concentrating on her books because her gaze continuously shifted back and forth between the books spread out over three tables and the spiral staircase.
"Probably," Rhea said, laying down on the couch reading. She, Ron and Hermione were the only ones in the common room since everyone else had gone home for Christmas break. "With what happened yesterday, he probably didn't fall asleep easily last night."
Truth be told, Rhea didn't find sleep either. Her mind would not let her forget everything she'd overheard at the Three Broomsticks. Most of it didn't come as a shock to her, but hearing other people shudder at the mere thought of her father's alleged crimes made Rhea's stomach twist uncomfortably. Meanwhile, hearing them talk about her mother as nothing but a cruel Death Eater made her angry.
Ron had been unusually quiet since he woke up. Rather than engaging in conversation, he busied himself with eating Peppermint Toads and massaging his aching stomach. Assuming that Hermione had interrogated Ron about his 'Death Eater aunt' when they travelled back from Hogsmeade, Rhea didn't dare to bring up the subject; no matter how much she wanted to know what her mother's family thought of her, it felt too suspicious for her to pry.
Lost in her thoughts, Rhea almost missed when Harry walked down the spiral staircase. "Where is everyone?" Harry asked, bringing the trio's attention to him.
"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" Ron said, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."
Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug. "You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.
"I'm fine," Harry said firmly.
"Harry, listen," said Hermione, exchanging a look with Ron and Rhea, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."
"Like what?" Harry asked.
"Like trying to go after Black," Ron said sharply, just as he and Hermione had rehearsed it. Harry didn't say anything, confirming their fears.
"You won't, will you, Harry?" Hermione practically begged him.
"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron told him.
Harry looked at them frustratedly, "Do you know what I see and hear every time a dementor gets too near me?" The other three shook their heads, but Rhea had her suspicions. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her—"
