Bella and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter Twenty-Six

A/N

Sorry for the lack of updates, I don't always have my laptop and I refuse to update on my Iphone as I hate it. I have also been dealing with some personal issues as well.

On a much sadder note, we lost two amazing people this week. Avicii and Verne Troyer. Avicii was best known as a DJ and his music was loved by many, his death, like Verne's, was a shock to all. Verne played Griphook in the first Harry Potter movie and had a role in 'Star Wars'. It's been said that Verne suffered from depression and his death was an act of suicide. Avicii's cause of death is still unknown. 

R.I.P to two amazing people. Gone but never forgotten and sadly missed by all <3

*********

I didn't have any idea how we had managed to get back into the Honeyduke's cellar, through the tunnel and into the castle once more. All I knew was that the return trip was just as silent as before, a lot quicker and that I hardly noticed what I was doing as my head was still pounding with the conversation I had just heard.

Why had nobody ever told me? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr Weasley...why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents had died because their best friend - and my father - had betrayed them?

Ron and Hermione watched me and Harry nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what we'd overheard because Percy was sitting close by us. When we went upstairs to the crowded Common Room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half- a - dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Me, however, who didn't want Fred and George asking me and Harry whether we'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty Dormitory and headed straight for my bedside cabinet. I pushed my books aside and quickly found what I was looking for - the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given me two years ago. I sat down on my bed, drew the hangings around me, and started turning the pages, searching, until...

I stopped on a picture of Harry's parent's wedding day. There was Harry's father waving up at me, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with Harry's dad. And there...that must be him. My father...their best man...I had never given him a thought before. 

If I hadn't known it was the same person, I would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter and somewhat reminded me of, well, me.  Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture was taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realise he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years which would make him unrecognisable? 

'But the Dementors don't affect him,' I thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face of my father. 'He doesn't have to cope with what Harry feels whenever they get close because he's the reason his parents are dead...I've never been more ashamed of my blood-line in my life'.

I slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into my cabinet, took off my robes and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding me from view. 

The dormitory door opened. 

"Bella?" Hermione's voice said uncertainly. "Are you here?"

But I lay still, pretending to be asleep. I heard Hermione leave again, and rolled over onto my back, my eyes wide open.

A hatred such as I had never known before was coursing through me like poison. I could still see Black laughing at me through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over my eyes. I watched, as though somebody was playing me a film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (who strangely resembled Neville) into a thousand pieces. I could hear (although I had no idea what my father's voice sounded like) a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, my Lord...the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper..." And then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that I heard two years ago...

I am descended from a murderer. I have killers blood running through my veins. I'm a monster myself. 

Harry, along with everyone else, must stay away from me. 

*

"Bella, you - you look terrible"

I hadn't got to sleep until daybreak. I had awoken to find the dormitory empty, dressed and gone down the spiral staircase to a Common Room that was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables and Harry, who looked just as bad as me, sitting in front of the fire.

I ignored Hermione. 

"Where is everyone?" 

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember!" Ron told me, watching me closely. "It's nearly lunchtime. Hermione was going to come and wake you up in a minute"

I groaned and slumped into the other chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug. 

"You both really don't look well, you know," Hermione said. 

"I'm fine," we answered at the same time. 

"Guys, listen," Hermione said, exchanging a look with Ron,"you both must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid"

"Like what?" Harry asked, still staring blankly into the fire. 

"Like trying to go after Black," Ron said sharply. 

I could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while I had been asleep. I didn't say anything. 

"You won't, will you?" Hermione asked. 

"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron said. 

Harry looked at them. 

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive, I stayed silent. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her-"

I flinched. Damn, here comes the guilt.

"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione said, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and - and serve him right!"

I sighed. "You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others,"

"So what are you saying?" Ron asked, looking very tense. "You want to - to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione said in a panicky voice. "They don't want to kill anyone, do you?"

Harry stayed silent. I, however, didn't. 

"That's not what I'm saying" I sigh and stand up, "because, for some unknown reason, I know that if Black did find me, I'd chose him over anyone. And that's not because he's my blood, trust me, I hate that I'm related to him. I just can't explain it - I just know that if something were to happen, I'd pick Black over anyone"

Hermione looked at me in shock. 

"Bella - you don't mean that,"

"Yeah," I nodded and bit my lip. "I think I do...which is why - why you guys should stay away from me. I'm a danger to you all"

"Bella-"

"Don't start Harry!" I swallowed. "I'm Black's daughter! I have your parents death running through my veins and I hate it! I really do! Once word gets out about this, people will turn against me and it's best you're not around when they do. I'm sorry"

I ignore their shouts and run out of the Common Room, tears running down my face.