Heart Scars ||| Remus Lupin

Twenty Five

Death Eaters Attack Diagon Alley

Peace Speaker, Fletcher Rhine, and his wife, Gianna Rhine, were killed at their public speaking in Diagon Alley. The two were hit with killing curses, and the dark mark was shot into the sky.
Two unknown death eaters, one male and one female, committed the crimes. The street was blown up, leaving seventeen injured, and nine, including the Rhine's, dead.
The male death eater stood at about 6'1, with shoulder length black hair. The female 5'6, with long, black wavy hair.

Adhara had the daily prophet clutched tightly in her hands at breakfast the next morning.

Her father had read it and patted her on the back before retreating to his study. Adhara's mother had read it as well, but she made no move to congratulate her daughter. It's not like Adhara wanted her praise anyways. It was much too late for her parents to start being parents.

Regulus and her sat in silence after they had both read it. Kreacher was lingering in the corner, watching the Black teens with the most gentle eyes Kreacher could muster.

"How many did you kill?" Her little brother whispers. Adhara gulps.

"I-I'm not sure. Two for certain, but I don't know how many Severus killed or how many were killed due to the explosion." She mutters back.

Regulus nods, not saying anything else as he stands and heads to his room.

Adhara knew he wasn't angry or disappointed in her. She did what she had to, and Regulus understood that better than anyone. He just needed time to process the fact that his older sister was a killer. His hero was a killer.

Adhara thought she would feel different. She thought she would feel darker, somehow. She wondered how the dark lord felt after killing someone. Thrill? Adrenaline? Satisfaction? She knew she didn't feel any of those things. She just felt numb.

Severus had not come back to discuss their next plan of attack for people on the list. She assumed that they were taking a few days to let this sink in, and then they would jump into the list head first. She knew she needed to process her first kill before the others could get easier, at least that's what her father had told her.

Adhara had not spoken to Dumbledore since their meeting almost a week ago. He had surely seen the news, and could probably tell it was Adhara who had been there. She wouldn't have done it if he had told her not to, but he said she had to do whatever it took to stay the spy. Killing them was necessary.

Adhara wasn't stupid. She wasn't conceited like most aristocratic girls her age. She was cunning and observant. She knew Dumbledore would win this war, by whatever means necessary. It was for the greater good, or that's what he told himself. What was a few lives in the grand scheme of things?

Adhara sat in the kitchen for a moment longer, the only sound being Kreacher clanging on the dishes. Then she stood and walked off to her room.

Adhara looked over her room. Her art supplies were thrown all over her desk, and the unfinished thestral painting sat in an easel near her window. It was the same one she had been painting over a year ago, the night that Sirius left. She hadn't been able to pick up her art supplies since the night Sirius walked out the door. Maybe some part of her was holding on to Sirius, hoping that if everything stayed the same, he would still be there.

Adhara changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She cast a quick charm that hid her dark mark, and then she hastily went down the stairs and out the door.