Hidden In These Walls

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 A few months passed in a blur and with not much heard from Remus, except for a letter he sent back to me telling me that it would all be okay, and to just breathe, I felt my time being at a standstill each day. I had responded telling him that it was getting harder to breathe easily, seeing as I was all alone. Padfoot had not returned and I began to think the worst, that I scared him off or that he ran away. Did I neglect him? Did someone take him? So many questions swarmed me, it made me dizzy with the thoughts spinning in my mind.

Most of my days were spent teaching and giving all of my attention to the classroom. I could not bring myself to begin to think about Padfoot then, not with the traumatizing images of a dead man flashing through my mind at all times of the day and night. His face began to haunt me wherever I went. I would wake up regularly in the night in flashes of panic, clutching my sheets and sweating profusely. These days I barely caught sleep. I often trudged around with dark circles under my eyes that bared down. Thankfully that did not stop the glares I would give the stranger in our midst when he got on a topic McGonagall previously established wasn't fit for the students to hear about.

What was worse was that with Barty Crouch's death, not long after, I received a newsletter from the Daily Prophet, titled: "Crouch Pronounced Deceased!" and right underneath that "Mass Murderer Sirius Black On The Move?" My heart shivered and I remember how I reread the paragraphs over and over again.

"Bartemius Crouch Senior, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was pronounced dead on the 27th of May 1995. Quickly after the last task of the Triwizard Tournament, an unknown faculty member was walking around the skirts of the Forbidden Forest where they happened upon the body of Mr. Crouch." That wasn't completely true, though I figured Dumbledore covered for Harry, and I'm quite glad he did. The paper read on, "The cause of death was described as 'murderous intent', the curse used on Mr. Crouch was said to be both the Cruciatus curse and the Forbidden Spell," I shuttered to think of how long he strained and struggled until he was finally put to eternal sleep. What torture that must have been...

"The Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has come forward with a statement saying: 'We are aware of the happenings at Hogwarts, but we will not be swayed. Bartemius Crouch will not have died in vain, and the Tournament will push forward! We have already pushed for more security and have an idea of who has done this terrible crime against the Ministry. There is only one that would make such a vengeous move, notorious murderer, Sirius Black," My chest sank as I watched the old picture of Sirius thrash and scream into a silent void through the newspaper, looking back I realized how terrified and how lonely he looked in it. My lip trembled and I tossed the paper away. I couldn't bring myself to read much more, or look at him as if he was yelling out for me to help him.

I crumbled the paper up and threw it into the fire with a soft growl of frustration, it bubbled beneath my throat and ended up releasing moments later at the front of my teeth. What was I to do? There wasn't much truthfully I could. I could try to talk to someone about this, but I had already bothered Remus enough the past few months, and there was no one else that would listen besides the trio, and once more I was not sacrificing my morals of keeping them as far removed out of it as I could just to talk.

No, there was only one thing I thought to do. Write. I furiously scribbled at my desk, this time to Sirius. It was odd, I hadn't spoken to him basically all year, not that I didn't want to, but because of the situation he was in I was too scared to reach out. This time the only fear that tickled down my spine was the dread that Sirius had been found, or would be found.

Hello, I know it has been a long time, and I feel awful for not reaching out sooner. I'm very concerned about this Ministry business, what with the head of a department's death. I wonder if you are okay. You don't deserve this. Not one bit. Please know I am here for you.