#spooktheeditor

Feels like it's rained in my head for a hundred days

The tips of his fingers buzzed like he had touched livewire. Sirius usually revelled in the sensation, but the blood soaking his hands made his heart stop. Her bruised and battered body lay before him like a scene from his worst nightmare. Her empty eyes stared into nothingness, still laced with unshed tears. Her delicate hand seemed to reach out, as if she knew her savior would be there, but her broken wand was just too far. 

The image of her lifeless corpse had been seared into the recesses of his mind, tainting every memory of her. Months had passed, but Sirius could hardly feel the passage of time. All he felt was regret. 

Stare in the mirror and I look for another face And I get so tired of putting out fires and making up lies Checking my eyes for some kinda light

The face staring back at him was nearly unrecognizable. His dull grey eyes were a void of despair. Remus and James would stop by to check on him, but Sirius always had a carefully crafted mask to hide the pain. He threw himself into missions, running in with reckless abandon. So much so that Mad-Eye Moody sidelined him; afterall his grief wasn’t worth the price of his partners’ lives. 

And I say I hate you when I don't Push you when you get too close

His regrets ate him alive, especially when he dwelled on the past. The corner of her lip downturned as he walked away, the dread in her eyes as he pushed her away, her words that struck where it hurt, but he deserved it. Every ounce of pain he had ever felt increased tenfold. Sirius told her that he hated her, and it was the last time he would ever see her alive. He told himself that he had to. He had no choice. But there is always a choice, even when there appears to be none. 

It's hard to laugh when I'm the joke But I can't do this on my Only you can save me from my lack of self-control Sometimes bad things take the place where good things go

Sirius cradled the empty bottle in his arms like his life depended on it. Remus had vanished, Peter never visited, James was forced into hiding, and his darling was buried six feet under. Nobody was there to stop him. So he cracked open another and drank it greedily, sighing as the alcohol drowned his senses. He let out a pained laugh, remembering how much she had helped curb his drinking. Sirius would have quit just for her. But she wasn’t here to save him, just like how he wasn’t there to save her. 

I've asked for forgiveness a hundred times Believed it myself when I halfway apologized It's not unfair I'm asking for prayers but nobody cares Going nowhere like falling downstairs while everyone stares No one's there when I've asked for forgiveness a hundred times

Sirius crumpled the letter in his fist. He had meant to send it, before she ran out of time, but now the words just mocked him. He glanced at his wrist watch and swore. He was late for another meeting. Sirius smoothed out the wrinkles on the page and set it back in the drawer of his desk. He apparated to the safe house and let himself in. He was met with a dozen pitiful stares. He sat silently, tired of empty apologies with no merit. Kingsley cleared his throat and continued to speak as Sirius tuned him out. 

No, I'm just taking a shot, ah Maybe I'm just too eager, oh Maybe I lost the plot, ha

The warm weather had just rolled into Hogwarts when Sirius spotted her reading by the Black Lake. Her hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders that swayed in the spring breeze. Sirius felt a tug in his heart, just as courage coursed through his veins a jolt of fear rushed up his spine. Remus gave him an encouraging thumbs up and James all but pushed him toward her. Sirius stumbled and blushed as he met her eyes. She motioned for him to sit beside her under the tree. The water lapped up on the cobbled shore as the leaves swayed in the wind. 

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and asked the question he had been wanting to ask ever since third year, when she’d helped him get caught up in Transfiguration after a particularly rough full moon. She laughed, amused at his proposition, thinking that there was no way he’d actually want to go to Hogsmeade with her. He recoiled but reiterated that he wasn’t playing a trick. She apologized profusely, but he couldn’t miss the rosy color dusting her cheeks. She smiled coyly and softly intertwined their fingers. He decided to shoot his shot. He leaned in and kissed her. It was like striking a match, instantly consuming and enticing. It ignited a wildfire in their souls that burned brighter than all the stars in the sky. But all good things must come to an end. 

I used to pity some people I said they were missing a spine, yeah Maybe the problem is ego Maybe the, maybe the problem is mine, really, I'm fine

They joined the Order soon after leaving Hogwarts. They rented a flat together in the city, but they hardly saw each other. Missions piled up on their plates and Sirius’ anger simmered just below the surface. He quelled his nerves with the bottom of the bottle, rattling off about how the ministry was full of spineless sheep until she came home. She yelled at him in his drunken state and yanked the bottle from his clutches. Sirius slept on the couch out of guilt, accepting that he was the problem. She shouldn’t have to worry about him whilst she was already stretched thin. He sobbed until the sweet release of sleep claimed him. 

Don't get too intimate, don't get too curious This is just feeling like it's not that serious Stare at the ceiling, feeling delirious Fuck all your empathy I want your fury 'cause I will just

Sirius loved the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was focused, he loved the warmth of her body tucked perfectly into his side at night, and he loved how passionate she became when she spoke about things she cared about. But he would never tell her. Every time he tried, the words died in his throat. Sirius blamed his family, she blamed herself. While he wallowed in guilt she wasted away, hoping that something would spark her extinguishing flame. 

Say I hate you when I don't Push you when you get too close It's hard to laugh when I'm the joke But I can't do this on my own

She felt his touch on her shoulder, summoning her from a blissful dream. Reality sank in as soon as she opened her eyes. He was dressed in travelling robes with a case in his hand. Sirius explained that Dumbledore had asked him to join a raiding party on a Death Eater safehouse. He didn’t know when he’d be back. For the first time in months, she found her voice, and she pleaded with him to stay. He shook his head as she reached for his hand. He flinched like she’d burned him. 

“Don’t. Don’t tell me you love me. Don’t say anything. Just listen,” he leaned forward and plastered on a sneer, “I don’t ever want to see you again. I hate who you’ve turned me into. I’m weak and you’ve made me vulnerable. And for that, I’ll never forgive you.”

A single tear stained her cheek as he left. But he didn’t expect to survive, so at least she wouldn’t have to mourn him. 

“Did you ever love me?” she whispered. The fear in her voice broke his heart, but he couldn’t give in. Not now.

“I hate you,” he lied. Sirius slammed the door to the bedroom, trying to block out her agonizing wails. 

Only you can save me from my lack of self-control And I won't make excuses for the pain I caused us both

She was buried under an oak tree in her hometown, her name adorning a granite slab nearby. Sirius sat beneath the golden leaves like he had all those years ago, but there was no laughter. No warmth. No joy. He traced his finger along the bark and over the old carving she had done the summer after they first kissed. It was their initials in a heart. 

“I’m so sorry, my darling. There are no excuses for what I’ve done. I can only hope that one day I’ll see you again and-” Sirius whispered to himself, only to be cut off by a patronus. It shimmered in front of him, an omen of death. 

“He found them,” was all it said before disappearing. He raced to his motorcycle and flew into the empty sky. Sirius felt his whole world implode once more as he descended upon what was left of the Potter’s home. He found James first. Every nerve in his body roared in agony. The wounds he’d tried so desperately to heal ripped open and poured his will to live down the drain. 

His knees gave out and he hit the carpet beside his brother’s body with a dull thud. He let his tears stream down his cheeks uninterrupted as he mourned the friends he considered family. He stayed like that until the cries of an infant caught his attention. 

“Harry?” 

So thank you for always standing by me even though Sometimes bad things take the place where good things go

“Tell me, did you cry when you found your little blood traitor in a pool of her own blood?” Bellatrix cackled, her shrill voice echoing off the towering walls of the Department of Mysteries, “I did enjoy carving her little heart out.” 

Sirius clenched his wand tighter in his hand and launched a volley of curses at his cousin. She deflected them like it was child’s play and aimed her wand at Harry. 

“Avada Kedavra!” Bellatrix screeched. Sirius barely processed what he was doing as he jumped in front of Harry. He barely flinched when Bellatrix’s curse hit. He glanced down at his godson, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because he could have sworn it was James staring back at him. His breath staggered as he began to fall back. The veil accepted him into its cold embrace and for the first time in a long time, he felt nothing. 

“Sirius, wake up my love,” her voice tugged at the back of his mind, like a hand guiding him to the light. When his eyes fluttered open, the sky was golden and the sun’s rays danced on the water of the Black Lake. And there they were. His friends. James and Lily sat watching the sun slip down while Dorcas and Marlene laughed, all their backs were to him. Sirius felt someone intertwine their fingers. His heart stopped as he met her eyes. They were not lifeless or dull, she was not cold and forlorn. She was here. She smiled and cupped his cheek. 

“What took you so long, silly?” she said with a soft smile. He brushed her hair behind her ear. James threw his head back laughing which made Sirius well up with tears. He had waited 15 long years to hear that sound once more. 

“Where are we?” he whispered. She brought his face to hers as he closed his eyes.

“You’re home.” 

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[1977]

“You just need to tell him,” laughed Lily from across the table. The library was practically empty except for the two girls working on Slughorn’s brutal potions essay. Anathema shot a glare in the red head’s general direction.

“Easy for you to say, James has been all over you since he first saw you on the train!” Anathema huffed, slouching over her sparsely done essay, “don’t start copying my paper!”

“Oh no, what ever shall I do without your,” Lily glanced down at her friend’s paper, “seven words.”

“Just shoot me,” Anathema groaned as she realized that the only words there were her name and the title.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lily winked. A loud crash snatched her focus away. Sirius was sitting on the floor, having apparently fallen over, under a massive tome. He noticed Anathema’s lingering gaze and waved as innocently as he could, with his head tilted to the side and everything.

“For fuck’s sake, Sirius. Are you trying to give me an aneurysm?” Anathema scolded. Lily snorted as he painstakingly lifted the book and walked toward the two of them.

“Why darling, I’m offended that you would think such things of me,” Sirius teased. About 0.5 seconds later, the tome slipped out of his hands and slammed down on the table. Anathema nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Sirius. Black. I swear-”

“Sorry dear!” he cringed. Anathema looked away, hoping that he didn’t notice the blush spreading across her face. But it failed to escape Lily’s hawk-like vision.

“Y’know, Anathema, Sirius is way better than I am at potions,” Lily said, her intentions poorly hidden.

“Do you need help with the essay for Slughorn?” Sirius piped up with a zealous grin. Anathema playfully kicked Lily’s shin with a straight face.

“Y-Yeah, actually. Lily is no help, to be completely honest,” Anathema stuttered.

“It’s the one on Amortentia, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well, good thing this monster of a book is about…” Sirius scanned the spine, “complex charms…” he bit his lip and slid it toward Lily.

“Ah, yes. Exactly the thing I need for my potions essay,” Anathema joked sarcastically. Sirius barked out a laugh as Lily gathered her supplies.

“I’ll see you two [lovebirds] later,” she winked. Anathema felt her face heat up as Sirius slipped into the seat next to her. When Lily had left, Anathema swallowed a lump in her throat. You could cut the tension with a knife.

“So, uh… what have you written down already?” Sirius asked, shifting awkwardly in his chair. Anathema glanced at her barren parchment before cringing internally.

“Well… do you want the bad news or the worse news?” Ana said meekly.

“Merlin’s beard, Nightshade, are you trying to give me a heart attack as revenge?” he teased. Anathema scrunched her nose at the nickname he had given her. Her animagus was a raven, a form she had apparently inherited from a particular ancestor of hers.

“I’m telling you, Padfoot, ‘Nightshade’ isn’t going to catch on. Not while I’m around,” Anathema said, sticking her tongue out at him.

“How about ‘Inkwing’? Hm, or ‘Darkwing’?” Sirius proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Sirius!” she blurted suddenly.

“Yeah?” he asked, slightly furrowing his brow and letting the smile slip from his face.

“I want to tell you some-”

“PADFOOOOOOOOOOOT!” bellowed James as he ran past the library door closely followed by none other than Peeves the Poltergeist.

“Prongs…” Sirius groaned. He peered back at Anathema, who was trying her hardest to hide the disappointment on her face.

“Go, Sirius,” she reassured him, “I’ll be here when you get back.” He smiled softly and stumbled over a chair.

“Oh! Before I forget or lose the courage,” he mumbled as he came closer. He swiftly lifted Anathema's chin with his left hand and gently pressed his lips to her forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut automatically.

[1981]

“Oh le Faaaaaaaaay,” Bellatrix’s shrill voice shredded through Anathema’s peace of mind. She peeled her eyes open and saw Rosier unroll a canvas. Whatever it was, its individual pieces clinked against each other. Anathema tried to summon a witty response, but her mind was too clouded and her mouth refused to move.

“Come on, Annie! No clever words to utter today?” Bellatrix said, jabbing at Anathema’s will. Her body was already battered with old cuts and bruises from the many days that had passed, and she just hoped she would pass out sooner this time.

“How embarrassing,” Bellatrix boasted, as if Anathema had already given in, “Rosier, would you be a dear and hand me the size 11?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed the sharpened scalpel. The pointed steel reflected the bright light hovering above the three of them. Bellatrix had relished the idea that if witches and wizards loved muggles so much, then they definitely wouldn’t mind if they used muggle methods to get their captives to talk. That day seemed to be scalpel day. Rosier sat down in the corner and leaned forward eagerly.

“Wait, wait, Rosier. We must always ask her before we begin,” Bellatrix's wild eyes flashed violently, “Who is the Potters’ secret keeper, Annie?” As much as she would hate to admit it, Anathema hesitated. Bellatrix’s smile became impossibly wide.

“Is she finally ready to talk?” Rosier asked, not even trying to hide his amazement. Bellatrix gently laid the blade on the small nightstand next to her.

“Go on, le Fay. Spit it out,” Rosier chuckled darkly. Bellatrix waved him off.

“S-S-S-” she coughed.

“Get her some water, Rosier!” Bellatrix shouted. He ran out of the room and shouted down the hall. Footsteps shuffled behind her until Rosier reappeared with a glass of water. He begrudgingly raised it to her cracked lips once Bellatrix backed up. Anathema gulped down the water, savoring the refreshing feeling in her throat.

“That’s enough,” Bellatrix clicked her tongue. Anathema almost cried when he pulled the glass back.

“Annie. Who is it?”

“S-” Anathema retched. Bellatrix leered over her, desperate to catch every utterance. Anathema’s eyes hardened with fury.

“See you in Hell,” she managed to whisper with a faint smirk. Anathema heard the slap before she felt the fire burning across her skin.

“You good-for-nothing BLOOD TRAITOR!” Bellatrix hollered. The unhinged witch grabbed the scalpel and thrust it into Anathema’s abdomen. Her screams would have made Voldemort weep. Bellatrix cackled maniacally as she twisted the blade and shoved it deeper.

“Bellatrix!” Rosier shouted, “you can’t just kill her!”

“Shut up, Rosier!” Bellatrix countered, her eyes never leaving Anathema’s, “I’ll let her cling to the edge of death and bring her back over and over again until she begs me to kill her.” Anathema barely registered Bellatrix’s words, her agony all-encompassing. It wasn't long until she lost her grip on consciousness, the only sign of life left was her dull heartbeat.

[1981]

When he finally awoke, Sirius struggled to see clearly, for his bleary eyes were still crusted with sleep. His forlorn gaze swept across the wrinkled covers, Anathema’s empty side was glaringly apparent in the afternoon sun. Sirius sighed and slowly forced himself out of bed, his only true motivation being the hope that her name wouldn’t be listed among the mounting list of casualties in the Daily Prophet.

Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, Sirius thought reluctantly, at least she won’t be in pain… Sirius cursed aloud. How dare he even entertain such an idea. The solitude must have been getting to him.

By the time his kettle had whistled the anticipation of that wiry owl’s daily delivery had eaten him alive. Sirius took a generous sip from Anathema’s favorite mug and swirled the sweetened tea over his tongue before swallowing, the liquid burning his dry throat. He imagined James sitting down on his sagging gray couch, head in his hands. Lily would most likely be tucked into his side, drifting off to sleep while baby Harry caught some Z’s like tiny golden snitches. Sirius thought about how James had fought Dumbledore when he suggested using the Fidelius Charm and sending them into hiding. James was a fiery spirit, he wanted to fight but he had to protect his growing family. The only thing he could do was wait.

Impatient taps on the kitchen window brought Sirius back to reality. A scrawny barn owl perched upon Anathema’s ledge planter, the soil had been dry and devoid of life since she had disappeared.

“You ruddy owl!” Sirius exclaimed as he swung open the glass pane, “you’re going to shatter the bloody window at that rate!” The owl glared at him, its piercing yellow eyes were only mildly unsettling. Sirius huffed and untied the Daily Prophet from its leg. The owl squawked angrily once Sirius set the paper down on the tile countertop.

“I swear on Merlin’s beard! I’m going to pluck every one of your dodgy feathers and stuff me a pillow,” Sirius threatened.

“Are you yelling at… an owl, Padfoot?” a familiar voice called from behind him. Sirius nearly died at the sound of his old friend.

“Moony, you tosser! Nearly gave me a heart attack,” Sirius grumbled. He absentmindedly assessed Remus as he slipped a sickle into the owl’s leather pouch. Remus was sporting a new collection of newly healed scars across his pale face, though he seemed determined to hide them with his scraggly hair. He leaned against the door frame, heavily favoring his left leg, and strangely opted to keep his rather cumbersome overcoat on despite the obvious perspiration prickling his browline.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Pads,” Remus commented, his voice quavering. His face betrayed him, Sirius instantly knew that something was wrong.

“What’s happened?” Sirius interrogated as he swallowed a lump in his throat. The mutual distrust was bad enough, but the one thing Sirius would never tolerate was lies by omission, emotions be damned.

“Did Dumbledore not-. Uh, you should really read the paper before-”

“What?” Sirius interrupted, “what’s the paper got to do with…” he trailed off. His blood ran cold as the pieces slowly clicked together. Sirius’ hands trembled as Remus approached him.

“Pads…” he whispered.

“No. NO. It’s not possible,” Sirius argued, biting back a sob. Remus gently lifted the slightly wrinkled newspaper from the counter and flipped through the various stories until he came to the section dreaded reading every day.

“October 17th, 1981-” Remus started.

“Stop…”

“The Ministry of Magic has confirmed 17 deaths-”

“Remus…”

“Abigail Presley (40), Jonathan Meynard (64)-”

“Please…” Sirius cried softly.

“And… Anathema le Fay (21),” Remus mouthed, the air stolen from his lungs.

“Nath…” Sirius sobbed, “tell me it’s not true, Remus! She-she can’t be gone.” Sirius crumpled against the cupboards, sobs wracking his body. Remus lowered his head in shame, unable to watch his friend suffer as Sirius’ wails of agony echoed through the cold, empty flat

Edits: Changed Sirius' nickname for Anathema from Annie to Nath.

Series Masterlist

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[September 2nd, 1978]

The view from the top of the astronomy tower was even more beautiful in person. Eurydice clutched her older sister’s letters in her pudgy hands as she ascended the spiral staircase. Anathema had painted the image of the tower with vivid hues entirely out of words. Eurydice pulled her blue Ravenclaw scarf closer to her face as the cold air engulfed her. Her breath misted near the top and hitched when her cool blue eyes settled on the scene before her. Despite the low-hanging clouds that clung to the sky, Eurydice could perfectly make out the stars. She circled the center of the tower, her gaze fixed on the twinkling constellations. Eurydice reached her fingers toward the complex tapestry of nebulas and novas. Just as she touched it, she shivered. A chill ran up her spine, she wasn’t alone. 

“Filthy blood-traitor!” a voice hissed from the shadows. Eurydice tensed, she recognized that voice. 

“You are nothing but a disgraceful stain on the le Fay family name!” it screeched, the sound akin to nails on a chalkboard. Eurydice fumbled for her wand despite knowing that a first-year wouldn’t stand a chance against whatever lurked just beyond her line of sight. She backed herself toward the railing, acutely aware of the haunting drop behind her.

“A cleansing is upon us, and you… You will be the first of many,” the voice cackled. A gnarled wand emerged from the shadows, its middle curved ever-so slightly. Eurydice felt the handle of her wand graze her palm and grabbed it, hastily whipping it out and pointing it at her attacker. The shrill voice snickered. With a nearly imperceptible flick, Eurydice’s only hope flew out of her hand. She retreated until her back was pressed up against the wrought iron railing. 

“M-my sister will-!” she cried.

“Your precious little mud-blood-loving family will be reduced to ash soon enough,” it sneered, “no one is coming to save you.” Eurydice stifled a sob, her knuckles aching from the grip she had.

“Please-!” she wailed as she threw up her arm in a last ditch effort.

“Everte Statum!” the voice hollered. Eurydice was blasted off the ledge, but somehow managed to hold onto the rail. She let out a strangled cry as the muscles in her arms screamed.

“HELP!” Eurydice pleaded, hoping that someone, somewhere could hear her. The voice sighed in annoyance. 

“It never gets any easier, does it?” The knotted wand reappeared above her head, “Farewell, Eurydice le Fay. May the world forget you, in time.” The voice mumbled something under their breath and she felt her fingers spasm. 

Then, Eurydice fell. Her tragically short life flashed before her teary eyes as she plunged into the darkness. But before she took her last breath, before she felt the life drain from her lifeless corpse, Eurydice decided that she wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to die, to leave.

So up there, in the astronomy tower, she stayed. Her assailant’s final, haunting words came to fruition. Hogwarts forgot her. Her family members either perished in the war or were presumed dead if not found. Eventually, Eurydice gave up on the hope that kept her trapped in that forsaken tower in the first place. Anathema never came. She was out there somewhere, but the lonely ghost girl couldn’t leave. 

As the years passed, the students called her “the ghost of the stars,” her name long forgotten in the cobbled halls and scraps of shredded parchment. That was until 1991, when a sad, black-haired boy with round glasses wandered into the tower on September 1st. His name was Harry Potter. 

F i n a l l y

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Series Masterlist

[September 1978]

Their new flat wasn’t much to look at, but Anathema was determined to make it livable. James and Lily had set their wedding date for later that autumn. Life was good, if you ignored the war raging outside the tiny flat’s window. 

“Merlin’s beard, Annie. What even is that thing?” Sirius balked as the ugliest couch he had ever seen floated through the living room. Anathema smiled innocently as it settled against the wall. 

“What? We need the seating and it’s in perfect condition. Honestly, I can’t believe someone got rid of it.” She took his hand and plopped down on the grey cushions. He followed and grinned despite the spring digging into his arse. Anathema settled against his side while she spun a silver ring on her thumb. The engraving matched Sirius’, the words Vivamus, moriendum est whipping around like the world circling the sun. 

Sirius pressed a kiss into Anathema’s hair and for the first time in a long time he wasn’t scared. Hope filled his chest, its warmth blooming in his veins. The darkness of war may loom ahead, but for that blissful moment Sirius felt like maybe they’d come out alright. 

A frantic knock on their front door made them jump apart, Anathema let out an annoyed laugh and untangled herself from Sirius. He reached out with half a thought to just gather her in his arms and ignore the incessant knocking. The further she walked the colder he felt. So Sirius palmed his wand, just in case, and followed her.

“Anathema!” A voice yelled through the door, followed by more banging. Anathema froze and clenched her fists. She turned the knob and a tall, middle aged woman bearing a striking resemblance to Anathema stumbled in. 

“Mother?” Anathema said, the disbelief obvious in her voice, “how-?” Melpomene le Fay grabbed her daughter by the arms with a crazed look in her eye and gripped her so hard her knuckles went pale. Sirius pulled his wand out but stopped when Anathema gave him a decisive look, stand down. 

“It’s your sister... Eurydice! She’s dead,” Melpomene cried. Anathema flinched and pulled away as far as she could, but her mother’s fingers stayed with bruising pressure. 

“What? What do you mean?” she demanded. 

“‘Fallen from the Astronomy Tower’ that’s what Albus said when he summoned me. Fallen?!? With all those enchantments, how is that even possible?!?” Melpomene raved as Anathema successfully broke from her mother’s grip. Sirius rested a hand on Anathema’s shoulder only to find her shaking.

“Nath...” Sirius said in a hushed tone, but he could not glean a reaction from her face, for it was entirely void of emotion. 

“ALBUS! He promised that she would be safe!” Melpomene droned on as she paced in their entryway. Anathema lifted her right hand hesitantly and gently rubbed her, surely bruised, right bicep. She tried not to flinch, but tears were gathered in the corners of her eyes of their own accord. 

She can’t be gone,” Anathema said, more to herself than anyone else, “she’s only eleven, her whole life is ahead of her. She wanted to be a Healer. She-”

“SHE’S DEAD,” Melpomene snapped, her rage shaking the apartment. Sirius stepped around Anathema, who grabbed his hand.

“Leave our house. NOW.” Sirius grit out with as much grace as he could muster. Melpomene reared her head, her eyes landing on his arms around her daughter. 

“You know what happens next, Anathema. There’s no use in trying to avoid it,” Melpomene hissed. A crack sounded through the room and in a warped flash, his girlfriend’s mother disappeared. 

“Darling,” Sirius asked after a beat of silence. She frowned as if deep in thought and broke from his grip. Anathema grabbed for her navy blue travelling robes. 

“Nath, where are you going?” Sirius called as she rounded on the fireplace. Just as she went for the Floo Powder, Sirius gently blocked her trembling hand. 

“Anathema.”

“I must speak to Professor Dumbledore.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sirius decided. She shook her head before he had a chance to prepare himself to travel. 

“I need to do this alone, my love,” she muttered softly and grabbed a handful of powder. 

Sirius blinked and she was gone, the echo of “Three Broomsticks” bouncing off the cold walls of the nearly empty flat. 

[Early October 1981]

The house was far too quiet for Anathema’s liking. There had been whispers of ‘it’ happening soon before seemingly the entire band of Death Eaters watching her left. The glowing blue bars of her cell flickered where a door once stood. Anathema raised her eyebrows and limped closer, holding her sore, heavily scarred stomach with her right arm. She lifted her left hand, wanting to test the bars, perhaps they were faltering, but her palm shook violently and she hesitated. It was an unfamiliar feeling that roiled in her stomach, she never hesitated. But the flashes of possible pain tattooed into her brain made her think twice. 

A high pitched whine shattered the silence and engulfed Anathema in panic. She set her jaw and pushed through the barrier. A blinding pain shot up from her hand to her heart as the building groaned around her. The silver ring on her finger glowed red hot, searing Anathema’s skin. She ripped it off and hissed as it dropped and rolled across the barrier, out of sight. 

The bars flickered once more, coming back and bathing the room in light as red as fresh blood. 

“Fuck,” Anathema cursed, she heard a click from outside and tensed. Before she could move, an explosion tore through the house and buried Anathema in the rubble. 

Remus never expected to learn much from a destroyed Death Eater hideout. In fact he assumed that the smoldering remains only pointed toward a lack of evidence. Alastor Moody had called upon him, citing his heightened senses, which he wagered would help in this situation. 

Remus blew his nose, hoping to clear the overwhelming scent of ash clogging his airways. He stood at the edge of where an exterior wall had been, scanning for anything that would stand out. He passed over a particularly toasted section and almost dismissed it until grains from a pile of soot sunk from within. He called Moody over and pointed to the area.

“Have you checked for a basement?” Remus asked, “because something tells me that there is, at the very least, a cavity worth exploring.” Moody grunted and waved his wand, clearing away enough debris to locate the entrance. 

“Careful now, we don’t want to get trapped should there be a cave in,” Moody warned. Remus nodded and slowly worked his way down the steps. At the bottom, his shoe nudged something small and metallic. He bent down and grabbed it from a sizable pile of ash while casting lumos. A silver ring gleamed back at him, the familiar Latin phrase glinting in the wand light. Remus’ heart clenched as the realization settled in his chest. 

“Alastor, this is Anathema’s ring. Do you think-”

“Merlin’s beard” Moody cut him off with a sharp breath. Remus turned and froze at the scene before him. A single metal chair sat in the middle of the room, the surface warped bent from what must have been restraints and the heat of the blaze. But the floors, the floors and walls, were painted with an inconceivable number of scarlet splotches. The only reason Remus knew it was blood was by the metallic smell. Moody kneeled down and brought his illuminated wand closer to the ground. Remus’ stomach turned at the sight of scalpels of all sizes scattered, each coated with blood. 

“There’s no way anyone could have survived so much blood loss,” Remus gulped. Moody’s eyes hardened on a spot behind Remus. The pile of ash that the ring was in. Remus looked closer and, to his horror, smelt burnt flesh. 

No. 

“You should head back up, Remus. Send me a Forensic while you're at it.” Remus, in a daze, walked up the steps to the twinkling stars and night sky. A dark bird flew overhead, blocking out a lamp as it sat on the edge of the fence. The raven, he realised, studied him for a moment, its eyes startlingly familiar. It cocked its head once before flying off into the night. 

[Early October 1981]

The article was short, concise.

Late last night residents reported an explosion at Crenshaw Manor. Largely thought to be abandoned, Aurors reported that the site was likely occupied by Death Eaters. Found at the scene was enough evidence to close the case on the disappearance of Anathema le Fay. Her death has been ruled a homicide, pending further investigation. She is survived by her mother, Melpomene le Fay, who buried her younger daughter, Eurydice le Fay, three years ago. 

Sirius could barely breathe, so when Remus plucked the paper from his hands and folded it, he hardly noticed. Without a word, Remus brewed tea and set it in front of Sirius. 

“When Moody asked for my help that night, I was hoping that the explosion was just some faulty muggle wiring,” Remus sighed, “I shouldn’t be giving you this, but Moody’s pretty sure of what happened. He doesn’t need this.” Sirius glanced at his friend who dug out something from his coat pocket. He held out Anathema’s ring. Sirius stifled a sob. It finally hit him.

She’s gone. He cradled the silver band, cursing the phrase as it clinked against his own. Sirius pulled off a silver chain from his neck and slid it on. It felt heavy, but a small tinge of peace settled next to his heart.

At least she’s not in pain anymore.

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