Bruises ~ In editing

~13~

Being with the Weasley's for Christmas was the best gift I could have ever asked for, not to mention the adorable sweater Mrs. Weasley stitched just for me.

We decided to go here after Harry's dream about Arthur being attacked, and once we found it to be true, we knew we had to come.

After Mrs. Weasley gave me the sweater, I immediately went and put it on. The sweater is a light gray with a huge C right in the middle of it. On the back, the constellation after my name.

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts, other than Hermione's books, that I've had in years.

Hermione smiled at me, signing, "It's cute on you."

I sign back a thanks to her as I look around the table.

I look up as Harry walks in, and when I look farther, I see Sirius in the door, holding a drink in his hand.

"A Christmas toast!" Mr. Weasley yells, "To Mr. Harry Potter, without whom I would not be here."

Everyone cheers to him and after food and cleaning up, we all go our seperate ways. I follow behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione slowly, my body still not quite used to walking normally again.

As Ron and Hermione walk off talking into one direction, Harry walks to the right, where he begins to talk to speak to someone. As I walk closer, I see that it's Kreacher, the house elf my parents had before they died.

Suddenly, I hear Sirius yell from behind me, "Kreacher! That's enough of your bile! Away with you!"

"Of course Master. Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black."

I watch Kreacher glance up at me as he walks by, a sour look on his face as he curses at me, "The house of Black, even this outcasted one."

I feel Sirius' hand fall onto my shoulder, the first interaction I've had with him since I ran away before.

He pulls me into a tight hug as I bury my face into his chest.

"I heard what happened. How are you?"

I pull away as I shake my hand, as if to say so so.

He stares at me, eyes wide, "You can't speak?"

"Couldn't walk either," Harry says to him.

As we enter the room, Sirius turns to him, "Oh, about Kreacher. Sorry about that. He never was very pleasant, even when I was a boy. Not to me anyway."

"Not when I was young either," I sign to Harry who nods.

I zone out, walking over and staring at my face, burnt from the wall as Sirius speaks to Harry.

I finally zone back in when Sirius walks towards Harry, "I want you to listen to me carefully, Harry. You're not a bad person."

Sirius hands grip his shoulders as he continues, "You're a very good person who bad things have happened to. You understand?"

I turn and look at the two, Sirius speaking to him intently, "Besides, the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside of us. What matters is the part we chose to act on."

I flash back to the sorting hat this year, telling me, that anger, that darkness. I shake my head as I turn away, back to the wall.

"That's who we really are," he finishes, dropping one hand, now only holding one shoulder.

My fingers touch the burnt wallpaper, my name quite ironically blacked out from the family.

The singed wallpaper crumbling against my soft skin. I see my name, Cassieopeia, still written below it, to show who it is that's been shunned. To show that I was no longer a true Black family member.