Beatrice Lestrange has always been an outsider in her own story. Born into one of the darkest families in the wizarding world, she grew up under the looming shadow of her infamous mother Bellatrix Lestrange.
Despite this, Beatrice is nothing like th...
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Sunday arrived at last, bringing with it a flicker of something Beatrice wasn't sure she could call happiness—perhaps relief. The thought of seeing Sirius in Hogsmeade was enough to distract her, if only briefly, from the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She needed this—a moment to anchor herself, to focus on something other than the tangled, confusing feelings she'd been wrestling with lately.
Sneaking down to the kitchens, she filled a bag with as much food as she could carry, remembering Harry's mention that Sirius had specifically asked for supplies. The house-elves, as always, were eager to assist, loading her bag with bread, roasted meat, cheese, and even a few treacle tarts.
When she met Harry near the castle entrance, she was surprised to see not just him, but Hermione and Ron waiting as well. The sight of Hermione sent an immediate jolt through her—a confusing mix of warmth and discomfort that she didn't have the courage to analyze yet.
— Morning, — Beatrice greeted, adjusting the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder.
— Morning, — Harry replied, giving her a small smile.
Beatrice's gaze lingered on Hermione for a moment longer than it should have. Hermione returned her look with a kind but slightly uncertain smile, and Beatrice quickly looked away, forcing her attention to Ron, who was chewing on a licorice wand and muttering about the cold.
— Let's hope he's not hiding in some moldy house again, — Ron grumbled, stuffing the last of his snack into his mouth.
Beatrice chuckled softly as they set off together. The crisp air bit at her cheeks, but she hardly noticed. For now, the thought of seeing Sirius was enough to keep her grounded. She clung to that thought, trying to push away everything else, her new, strange feelings for Hermione, the awkwardness with Theo, Draco's insinuations, and the weight of the tournament.
Finally, the four of them reached a small clearing. There, sitting in the shadows of a large boulder, was the unmistakable silhouette of a large, shaggy dog.
— Sirius. — Hermione breathed, her voice tinged with relief.
The dog's ears perked up at the sound of her voice, and with a wag of his tail, he stood and padded over to them. His dark eyes gleamed in recognition, and Beatrice couldn't help but smile faintly as she knelt down to scratch behind his ears.
— You've been waiting for us, — she murmured softly.
Sirius huffed, almost as if to say, What took you so long?
— Yeah, yeah, we're here now, — Ron muttered, brushing snow off his jacket. — So what's the plan? We're not just standing here in the cold, right? —
Sirius turned and began trotting up the path without waiting for a response. Beatrice straightened, exchanging a glance with Harry, Hermione and Ron before they followed.
