Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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February 24th, 1981
Avery slumped down on the couch at 12:34 am, eyes red and hair mused, unable to bring herself to her room upstairs with the amount of energy left in her bones. She sat there motionless — only staring at the floor — for more than she cared to count, numb with the scene she witnessed earlier replaying at the back of her mind again and again. To make matters worse, a nagging sense of guilt clawed at her conscience, as if she herself had played a part in Evan Rosier's tragic demise. Maybe, if she wasn't selfish and allowed him to get away with whoever he wanted at the time, he'd still be alive, right? He'd likely be recounting the story of their reunion back to Barty at this very moment. She could imagine it so vividly.
The persistent chime of the doorbell pierced through the silent night, but even that failed to break Avery from her thoughts entirely. Gathering the last remnants of her energy, Avery forced herself up from the couch and slowly trudged to the entrance. As she opened the door, she found Dorcas standing on the doorstep, her expression confirming that she had already heard the news.
Without a moment's hesitation, Dorcas wrapped her arms around Avery, pulling her into a heartbreaking embrace. Though there were no words exchanged, the sheer magnitude of the gesture spoke volumes. The two stood there, their bodies pressed tightly together, as if each seeking comfort and solace in the other's presence.
Shortly afterward, as Dorcas trembled in her arms, Avery instinctively pulled her in closer. She didn't need to see Dorcas's face to know that the gravity of the situation was hitting her fully for the first time. Silently, Avery held her tightly, her hand gently rubbing circles on the back.
Later, they sank onto the couch in the dim glow of the living room, still untouched by sound—until Dorcas finally spoke.
"I came as soon as I heard," she whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to face that alone... I would've been here sooner if I'd known."
"It's alright," Avery managed, her voice a gravelly whisper. "There was nothing you could've done. You're here now."
"It must have been terrifying," Dorcas said.
Avery's gaze fell on their connected hands, her mind elsewhere.
"I could've stopped it."
"You can't blame yourself for this, Avery," Dorcas retorted gently. "There's no way you could have stopped what happened."
"But I was there. If I wasn't selfish—" Avery's voice broke as she pressed her palms against her eyes, as though she could block out the memory. "If I just put everything aside for a moment and let him be, he'd still be alive right now."
Dorcas leaned closer, her tone trembling but steady. "You think replaying it will change how it ends? You did what you could. You always did."
Avery shook her head, laughter spilling out in a cracked whisper. "That's the thing, Dorcas. I didn't. I stepped in. I thought I had more time."
