The War | The Sister Book #4 | Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter Six

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Draco's POV

I stare at the flames that curl and flicker, my eyes glazing over until they're all I can see. He killed her. He just killed her. My teacher, a woman, gone, without a second thought. I expected it, I suppose, to a certain extent, but the way her body fell limp, how empty her eyes were I-

"Draco?"

I look back over my shoulder, seeing my mother and blinking in an attempt to make myself conscious, "Yes, mother?"

"Bellatrix informed me there is to be another meeting in a week or so, ensure you make arrangements." She says, nodding to herself, "We must have you here."

"When, exactly?" I ask, rather harshly, which I regret immediately, 

"The 13th?"

I nod in response, turning back to the fire. I had been planning to meet Blaise in London, but I suppose I'll have to change my plans. I examine the glass in my hand- I haven't a clue what's in it, the clear liquid bubbling towards the surface looks rather inviting, but I wasn't paying attention when my mother handed it to me. I suppose it must be alcohol. 

I look back at the fireplace, eyeing the stonework and golden glow the fire gives off. It's the only real light in the room. Everything else seems dimmed and muted, as if it was all painted with the same green-grey colour, merely in different shades. The bright orange cuts through the room and gives it a breath of life.

They will all be in the common room now, talking. I had planned on going back, but in an effort to prove my families loyalty, I thought it better to stay. What good will I do them at Hogwarts anyway?

That's all her. All of it. Hogwarts is her and she isn't anymore. I can't go back there now, as if everything is as it was. It's not. It won't be again. I hope they buried her with the ring, and above all, I hope she was dead when I last saw her. She deserved a quick death. She deserved so much more than that, but that is all she got. 

I lift my glass and down its contents. 

After everything, that was all she got.

xxx

Clara's POV

Hermione suggests we go to Grimmauld Place, and since we're all so shaken, none of us argue. 

 We step into the grim hallway, closing the door behind us and blinking in the dusty grey light. I take a breath, smelling a strange nostalgia in the air. It unsettles me, and I glance over at the others, frowning at their faces in the shadow. We're so much older now. Changed. Seeing how no one steps forward to venture into the house first, I take out my wand, murmuring Lumos and shining a faint silvery glow ahead of us. We didn't need it- it's more for comfort. 

I take a tentative step forward and freeze. I see something swirling at the dust on the ground ahead, I see how it rises, churning, forming, racing towards us. The grey mass forms the shape of a man, Dumbledore, and as a loud raspy breath fills our ears and I raise my hand, cowering until he bursts back into nothing. A cloud of dust settling back on the floor.

 Hermione steps forward, raising her wand and murmuring "Homenum Revelio"

Nothing happened.

"We're alone," She says quietly, turning back to us.

xxx

We sleep in the living room, the sound of Ron's snores being the only thing we can hear. I wake slowly, propping myself up on my back and wincing as my back aches. These sofas are old, and you can feel the metal springs through the thick fabric. Blinking in the dim light, I smile softly when I see Ron and Hermione, their hands almost touching, as they sleep. I push off the heavy blanket and get up, noting that Harry is no longer asleep.

I creep across the room and into the kitchen, my hand absentmindedly fiddling with the ring as I step into the cool light that floods through the large, high windows. Harry looks up from where he kneels before the fire, and I smile, smelling smoke in the air.

"Are you sure it's safe to light it? Won't the smoke-"

"This was the order's safe house, I highly doubt they would be that careless." He answers, and then his eyes flicker to the ring and I drop my hand away. 

Harry sits back on his heals, "I don't hate him. Don't think that I hate him."

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Clara, if Ginny did that to me, you would be angry. You would. You'd want to rip her guts out, don't deny it." He says slowly, wiping his hands on his jeans and standing, "The fact I hated him before that doesn't help either." 

Harry busies himself by boiling the kettle and searching for mugs for the tea, and I walk over and sit at the table, on one of the seats near the fire, "Harry, please, I don't want to talk about it. Him."

Harry pauses, calculating what to say next- A rare occurrence, he normally says whatever comes to mind, "You still wear his ring."

"Of course I do! What do you expect me to do? Throw it in the fire?"

"Well it obviously doesn't make you happy is all I'm saying-"

"My best friend thinks he killed me, he's fighting in a war against me, Harry, and my brother hates him, I should hate him, I'll probably never see him again!" I snap, "No, it doesn't make me happy, but it's all I have left of him and I'll wear it all I bloody well want."

He sighs, turning to face me fully for the first time in the conversation, he hesitates, looking to his feet and then back at me, "How do you forgive people, Clara? Because I'm not very good at it." 

I falter at how genuine his question is, unsure as to how to answer- I open my mouth to respond when the kettle screeches loudly, announcing itself, and I wince at the noise. Harry jumps, pushing it off the heat as I hear swearing from the living room. I look back at him, 

"You just do, Harry." 

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron snaps, entering the kitchen followed by Hermione, who frowns at us as if we don't make sense. 

"Harry's boiled the kettle, Ron, you halfwit." She murmurs, walking down the steps into the kitchen and softly hitting his arm. She takes up the seat next to mine, and as Harry places four hot mugs of tea on the table, I pass one to her, and as Ron sits down opposite, I pass one to him. 

"Did I hear yelling?" Hermione asks, taking a sip of tea. I drop my hand from the ring and shake my head,

"Must have dreamt it," I say gently, glancing at Harry as he sits down next to me. Hermione doesn't believe me, but she decides not to question me, instead nodding. 

xxx

Hello!

Sorry this is late I had a two-show day yesterday and am currently dealing with some quality post-show depression yeet

It's my first and last school production let me live

How are you today?

Taylor xxx