HEDWIG

CHAPTER SIX

NOTHING LEFT

Cecelia had been placed in a high-security cell in Azkaban Prison. There was something very frightening and depressing about the island it resided on. The dementor's long rule over the prison had left its imprint in the air. She could still feel their terrible magic soaking in the walls, even though they have not haunted these prison cells for nearly twenty years.

As she sat there on the floor, her ankles and wrists shackled to the walls, her mind fluttered to images of Sirius. She remembered what this place had done to him. His hair was just a wild mat against his scalp and his bones protruded through his skin. Was that her future?

She had wanted to visit him so many times, but it was hard being away from Harry, especially after he started Hogwarts. And she still hadn't known if Sirius was truly innocent or not.
She thought of another memory...

Cecelia chuckled.

She could remember the day Harry picked her out in the store. She remembered how she had fallen asleep in Eeylops because Hagrid was taking too long and had woken just in time as he entered Ollivander's with Harry.

But those days hadn't lasted long-

The door to her prison cell opened and the Minster of Magic walked in. He looked tired and she knew she was to blame for that. But then, Aberforth and McGonagall had followed after. Cecelia sat up straighter.

The look Aberforth gave her was one she remembered very well. In that moment, she felt as if she were a child again and was caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing.

"That was quite a show," Kingsley said, as he left and shut the door behind him.

Cecelia smiled and lifted her head a little. "Well, I'm the most dangerous prisoner here. I had to play the part, right?"

"Cecelia!" Aberforth snapped. "Do you have any idea what you've done? After everything I've done - that Albus has done-"

"I haven't forgotten," Cecelia interrupted him. "Why do think I chose this. Dumbledore should have let that ring curse me. It should have been me! Not him! You have all been keeping me alive, but what's the point? Why? What's the purpose of this life while so many others suffer on my account? Aberforth, you gave up everything to care for me- "

"Wait," McGonagall held up her hand. "What about the ring?"

Cecelia fell silent. That familiar oozy feeling of guilt took over and she swallowed. She forgot that no one knew what had really happened that day, not even Aberforth. She was ashamed. She should be dead, not Dumbledore.

"Cecelia?" Aberforth whispered her name.

She looked up at them and felt her throat tighten. "Sirius," she murmured, "Sirius had just died."

"Cecelia," Aberforth frowned, shaking his head and rubbing his chin.

"I just wanted to see him one more time," Cecelia confessed, "but when Dumbledore tried to take the ring from me..." she strayed off. She couldn't finish. Silence fell over the cell. It was torture. For so many years, that secret continued to eat her from the inside out. It hurt so badly because she was the only one who knew.

"That's not your fault, Cecelia," McGonagall said, "He loved you. He would have given his life for you over and over again."

Cecelia gritted her teeth and closed her eyes.

"I'm going to do my best to prove your innocence-" Aberforth began to say.

"But I'm not!" Cecelia shouted, startling both Aberforth and McGonagall. "I am a necromancer and I did bring Bellatrix back! I am everything that they accuse me of! I deserve to rot in this cell where I can't hurt anyone anymore!"

Aberforth and McGonagall were at a loss for words. Shaking her head, Cecelia looked away. They could never understand. She was exhausted from all the confessions that just seemed to roll off her tongue. "There was nothing I could do to stop it," she added, hoping to redeem herself in their eyes. At least, a little. "Death made me do it."

"How does that make you guilty, then?" Aberforth asked, trying to understand.

"Sooner or later I could bring Him back and you both know it," Cecelia said.

"So you're just going to give in? You're just going to stop fighting?" Aberforth asked angrily. "Albus and I have had our disagreements. I made my mistakes and he was no saint, but the one thing he ever did that made me proud to call him my brother was taking you in. After Ariana - it was hard to even hear his name."

Cecelia felt her heart clench. She closed her eyes.

Aberforth continued, "You are the only reason Albus and I reconciled - for the most part. You are the reason we both found a way to move on from the tragedies of our youth. You are the reason he worked as hard as he did. People called it ambition; if they only knew. He made sure that he kept his respected name and power, so when something like this happened he could stop it. But you just give up, because he's not here?"

A tiny glistening tear slipped through the lids of Cecelia's eyes, slid down her cheek, and left a trail of sadness behind as they trickled off her chin.

"Your father would be ashamed," Aberforth said, "I raised you better than this - HE! Raised you better than this!" Aberforth shook with anger and with overwhelming fear. "In those last painful months of his life, he could have easily let that curse claim what breath he had, but he stayed for as long as he could, no matter how much pain it took. You want to know why?"

Cecelia's chin quivered.

"It wasn't just for Harry. He cared about the boy, but he considered you a daughter," Aberforth kneeled before Cecelia.

"He stuck around for you," Aberforth said, "He struggled with death for you. I'm asking you to do the same."