Mischief Managed

41: Empty Hearts

I'm trying. I really am.

----

I woke up the next morning and patted the other side of the bed. The sheets were neat and unwrinkled.

I propped myself up on my elbow and squinted suspiciously at the un-slept-in spot.

"Sirius?" I called.

My voice echoed around the empty apartment like a shout in a cave. The bathroom door was open, the light off.

Where was he?

I pushed off the bed and stumbled sleepily towards the kitchen.

"Sirius," I mumbled. "It's not cool to leave in the middle of the-"

Then I spotted the empty hook on our coat hanger, the spot where his coat should have hung, and my throat dried.

My fingers traced the wall beneath the hook. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the growing nausea.

I turned away from the kitchen and raced back towards the bed, stuffing my face in his pillow to breathe in as much of his scent as I could.

My tears started to drip into the pillow case, and I threw it across the room with as much anger as I could muster then collapsed back onto my side.

Later, I discovered that Sirius's mug was still in the cupboard above the sink; I had washed it after he had left, but suddenly wished that I hadn't.

It wasn't until I half-heartedly dressed myself and tied up my hair when I realized that I didn't have to grieve- I didn't have to cry over Sirius, because he wasn't gone.

I couldn't convince Crouch to let him free by myself, but suddenly I knew who could. I wanted to hit myself for not seeing it sooner.

Albus Dumbledore.

——-

I wrote to Dumbledore as quickly as I could and waited for his response.

I ripped his reply to shreds when I saw that it was only one sentence long.

Brianna,

I will meet you at your apartment at 3 pm today.

At precisely 3, I heard three knocks on the door.

I jumped up from the couch and yanked it open.

Albus Dumbledore stood in front of me, his face weary and eyes filled with pity.

"Dumbledore!" I exclaimed, ushering him quickly inside. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

I escorted him to the tiny kitchen table, and he sat in one of the chairs while I sat across from him.

"You don't look well, Brianna. Have you been sleeping?"

I waved away his concerns with my hand. "I'm fine."

I put my elbows on the table, leaning across in anticipation. "But Sirius...I've tried convincing Crouch to give him a trial, but he won't listen. So I figured you would help, and you will, won't you?"

Dumbledore let out a tired breath and leaned back in his chair.

"The evidence against him is clear. There were witnesses, and a very clear motive."

"Excuse me? What motive would Sirius have to kill one of his best friends and twelve innocent Muggles?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly as if he had expected my protests.