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Disclaimer: Everything is JKRs. This chapter contains information from Prisoner of Azkaban. Lyrics by Emery.


Chapter Seven
Under Serious Attack


This is war
Can I take it anymore? (can I take it anymore?)
I'm falling faster and bleeding more
Than i have bled before
Certain death (this blade will carve a purpose)
Lingers on the other hand (and make you feel defeated)
But i will fight you
And victory will be mine in the end

-- Emery "Under Serious Attack"


Sirius

Tristan has habits. He had a routine that I easily picked up on as September faded into October and October began to fade into November. He wasn’t your typical twelve year old, I noticed. He was more mature and independent. I don’t think he trusted many people and he was a bit on his own. Without little Ginny Weasley, I don’t think he would have friends.

In the past months, I watched him befriend a girl that looked vaguely familiar. Like I had seen her somewhere else. I noticed she was a Slytherin, however, and grew angry that Tristan would even dare look at one. But she seemed different. He also befriended another girl. I recognized her big eyes and blonde tresses as a Lovegood. She seemed a bit odd, practically floating around the grounds, but then again, I was being judgmental.

In the mornings, Tristan awoke before dawn and dressed himself. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, Tristan would exit onto the grounds with his broomstick over his shoulder and he’s fly around until seven thirty when it was time to go in for breakfast. I would watch him, sitting as still as possible looking up. And I would continue to watch.

I was doing that now, laying on my back uncomfortably, watching the speck in the sky that was my son. He was a good flyer, I could tell you that much. He moved with ease and quickness. I wondered if he played Quidditch, I knew he wasn’t on the school team, but still, you didn’t have to play for your school to play Quidditch. I then began to wonder what position he played. Beater? Had he inherited my old Beater skills? Or did he take about his mum and prefer chaser? Or did he do something completely different?

Suddenly Tristan began to descend. It was much to early and I quickly got on all four paws and slipped into the shadows, watching curiously. I watched as Tristan landed sloppily and much too hard. He stumbled and went down, rolling twice and then laying on his back. I wanted to run to him and check that he was alright. But I stayed away in my shadows.

Slowly, Tristan sat up. He didn’t look dazed and he didn’t look surprised by his fall. He just sat there. Then he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He rested his forehead on his knees and was then very still.

It was then, for the first time, that I noticed that Tristan was having a hard time. He’s friends with people that no one else wants to be friend, his mother is unstable with memories she lost and can’t get back, and he’s the son of me, Sirius Black. Peers fear him, they think he’s like how they think of me. I sat down and watched Tristan.

For over and hour he stayed in that position. Then he got up and picked up his broom. He looked around the pitch, almost confused, and then turned and headed back towards the castle, a slight limp in his walk.

I was tempted to go after Tristan. I wanted to stand beside, put a hand on his shoulder, and promise him that things will get better. And I almost did. I almost got up and hurried after my son to do just that. I wanted to go and comfort him. But just as I was about to, I felt something brush my side. Something warm and soft. Startled, I shied away and stared at whatever had dared touch me.

A cat.

I crouched and growled at it, hoping the stupid thing would go away and leave me alone. The cat just sat there, staring at me with its ugly flat face. An uncanny intelligence radiated off of the cat and I stared at it curiously before I got my senses back and growled again. The cat continued to sit there and I had the sudden feeling that the cat knew I wasn’t a real dog. I back away, feeling slightly creeped out. The cat purred and walked towards me.

I barked, the sound echoing off the trees stands in the Pitch. The cat meowed and a sudden name just popped into my head. It was the strangest thing, but I knew it was the name of the cat.

Crookshanks.

I took a step towards this strange cat and it let me nudge it with my nose. It smelt like people. I wiggle my nose, humans don’t have the nicest scent in the world. I stayed at the pitch with the cat for over an hour in half. Then students began to pour from the castle and we took off into the Forbidden Forest. It was then that I realized I had a friend. Yes, it was a cat, but an intelligent one that probably had nothing better to do then follow a big mangy mutt around a dark forest.

After spending hours with the cat, I realized that it was Halloween. I watched Hagrid carry pumpkins from his patch into the castle and had a sudden idea. I followed them up, Crookshanks ran ahead, distracting Fang from me and ran off in the opposite direction. I continued up the grounds behind Hagrid and just before the door to the castle shut, I slipped in and hurried into the shadows of the Great Hall.

I was inside the castle.

Honestly, I had no idea exactly what I was doing. My only thought was that the Gryffindor common room would be empty. And if Ron Weasley was a good boy and luck was on my side, Peter would be sleeping his life away in the 3rd year boy dormitories. I prayed that he was.

Though I could not go now. Children were up in the Common Room and I guessed that Tristan was one of them. I would have to wait for the Feast to begin before I can sneak up there. The whole school will be distracted and I’ll be in and out within moments. It was a good plan, I hoped. I just prayed the Fat Lady would let me in. Surely she wouldn’t hold the door shut for a serial killer....

Night fell slowly and the Feast began when all the students returned from Hogsmeade. I had realized that Harry had not gone to Hogsmeade and figured it was because of those horrible Muggles he’s been living with. I sighed as the whole school filed inside. Then I went to the kitchens and had the House elves, who cared less who I was, bring me a knife. Then, I turned and hurried up the stairs. I went down the corridors and up staircase after staircase. But the time I got where I wanted to go, I was exhausted. I approached the Portrait.

The Fat Lady wasn’t paying attention as I approached and I grew nervous. I took my human appearance and approached slowly. The Fat Lady looked and scream and for a moment, I felt shamed, but then, knowing that Pettigrew was on the other side, I decided that I didn’t care.


Libby


I walked around the living room with a letter in my hand. It was from Dumbledore, asking me to meet him in his office that afternoon. I wasn’t working today. Kingsley told me to talk Halloween off. He told me to go to a nice party or something, enjoy myself. I tried to tell him I wanted to work, but he sent me off. I honestly, had no choice. So I came home to find an owl waiting for me.

What Dumbledore wanted to meet about, I was unsure about. So I Flooed to his office at the appropriate time and was greeted enthusiastically by the old wizard. I smiled at him as I dusted soot off my clean robes.

“How are you, sir?” I asked, taking a seat in an arm chair as Dumbledore poured some tea.

“I’m wonderful,” he said, “But I didn’t ask you hear to talk about me. No, I wanted to talk about you. You and Tristan both.”

“Is there something wrong with Tristan?” I asked, instantly worried as my motherly instincts kicked immediately. Dumbledore looked up at me with twinkling eyes. I relaxed, seeing Dumbledore was.

“He’s making friends. I’ve seen him walking the corridors with Lyra Smith and Luna Lovegood. And of course, Ginny Weasley is always there, too. But Tristan still doesn’t seem. . .happy,” Dumbledore explained, “And personally, I am beginning to worry. As a child, Tristan should be loving life and enjoying himself.”

“He doesn’t seem to want to stay a kid,” I said, nodding, “I’ve noticed he’s been lacking happiness in his life, too. And I think that it my fault. I’ve been so caught up in myself and my memory and my work that I honestly haven’t been a very good mother to the poor kid.”

“No, you’re a wonderful mother!” Dumbledore said.

“I know I’m not,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“Tristan loves you and everything about you. He’s just going through a hard time right now, too. Many of the students seem to think Tristan is taking after his father, though he’s so quiet, its hard to believe,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head, “But the rumors will pass and Tristan will one day find that he has to act his age again.”

I nodded and then frowned, “Who’s Lyra Smith?”

“A friend of Tristan’s,” Dumbledore said automatically.

“Who are her parents?” I asked, frowning, the name sounded familiar.

“That’s not my place to say,” Dumbledore said and he smiled a little, “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve heard Lyra. . .before,” I said, thinking back. I bit my lip, knowing the name from somewhere. But where? Then my eyes grew wide, “Are there any other. . .”

“Any other what, Libby?” Dumbledore still had a twinkle in his eye as he watched me piece things together.

“No. That’s silly. Forget I said anything,” I said, laughing slightly, “I’m thinking crazy. What house is she in?”

“Slytherin, I believe, though many believe she’s been misplaced,” Dumbledore chuckled slightly, “She’s different.”

“It seems so,” I nodded.

The rest of the afternoon was spend with light conversation. We talked about everything and anything that did not include Sirius. Tristan came up a lot. And the more I heard about my twelve year old son, the more I worried that he was more stressed and miserable that I had allowed myself to believe.

I wanted to see him, but Dumbledore suggested that I don’t and I agreed. I wouldn’t want Tristan to think something was wrong with me. And I didn’t want to walk down the corridors and remember things that I didn’t want to. Tristan would be okay, he knew how to take care of himself.

When Dumbledore announced that he had to go, for students would be coming back from Hogsmeade and heading to the feast, I nodded and stood, thanking him for the company and the chat. Dumbledore left with a twinkle in his eye and I stepped into the fireplace and Flooed back to my quiet home.

However, it wasn’t empty. Tonks sat in my kitchen reading the newspaper and pursing her lips with distaste. She glanced up when I walked in and I smiled at her, confused as to why she was here. I couldn’t remember if I had invited her or not, but I was more then certain that I hadn’t. It wasn’t like Tonks to make unexpected House calls.

“Wotcher!” she said, jumping up, “Sorry for just showing up, but I got off from work and thought, it’s Halloween! I didn’t want to spend the only holiday where we can walk around town in our robes and twirling our wands alone!”

“Oh, Tonks,” I laughed, “I’m just giving out candy to Muggle trick-or-treaters.”

“The candy was for the Muggles?” Tonks said seriously, looking a tad bit guilty. I just laughed.


Tristan


“I’ve never been so full in my life!” Ginny said, giggling, “But that candy was so good! I want more!”

“I think you’ve had enough,” I said, laughing slightly at Ginny. She was high on sugar and I had chosen to believe that she had eaten so much sugar, that her stomach was numb from it, willing her to eat some more.

“You barely had any, Tristan! Why?” she asked, looking at my oddly.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I shrugged.

“But its candy!” Ginny said, “We’re kids, we’re supposed to jump at the chance to eat never ending bowls of candy!”

It was then that we feel in step with Ron, Hermione, and Harry. They smiled at us as Ginny lectured me on being a kid. They weren’t paying much attention to us, however as they approached the Gryffindor common room, they stopped. More then half the house was jammed infront of the door and the rest were behind them. Frowning, Ginny stood on her tiptoes, trying to see. She used Tristan’s shoulder as a prop for balance and even jumped up a little.

“I can’t see anything,” she said. I stood on my tip toes, too, and saw nothing.

“I can’t either.”

Ahead of us, Ron asked why no one was going in. Then Percy Weasley came by, pushing everyone and shouting, as usual, that he was Head Boy. Then silence fell. Percy’s voice was different as he shouted, “Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick.”

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked.

“Oh, my–-” Hermione said in front of them.

Ginny and Tristan looked over and gasped. The Fat Lady was not in her portrait. The canvas had been slashed violently, damaging the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Dad! Sirius Black! was the first thing that crossed my mind and I recoiled in my spot, staring at the damage helplessly. Why?

Dumbledore was there suddenly, shouting out orders to be done to find the Fat Lady. I caught the Headmaster’s eye and looked away ashamed. I wanted to run and even began to walk off, but someone grabbed hold of me. I turned and looked to see it was Harry, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Peeves, who was telling what had happened.

Or at least I thought he was. I wasn’t exactly paying attention. I was trying to get out of Harry’s grip and Ron, seeing Harry struggling to keep me back, soon grabbed me, too. I wanted to get out of there. I knew what was coming, though I couldn’t hear anything but a ringing. And then, everyone was looking at me and I knew what had just been said. I hung my head and stopped struggling.

Harry and Ron hung on to me as we all went down to the Great Hall as ordered. The other houses were arriving, as well, confused and already in their pajamas. Gryffindors were explaining what happened with excitement and fear as everyone grabbed a sleeping bag. I was with Ginny as I took one, only for it to disappear right from my hands.

“Forget to give your dear old Daddy the password, Black?” Draco Malfoy spat at me. I looked up at him and said nothing before I hung my head. The Slytherin laughed and turned away, walking with his friends.

I took another sleeping bag and Ginny and me found a corner. I got into my sleeping bag without a word and rolled over, facing the wall. I heard someone approach and set up next to Ginny. Then I heard them talking.

“I don’t think he’s okay,” Ginny said.

“He may just be in shock,” Lyra shrugged.

“No, I think he’s ashamed and angry.”

“He shouldn’t be ashamed of his father. He is who he is and Tristan has to live with that. Why, my father didn’t do many great things in his life, either, but I am not ashamed of him and his choices. Angry, yes, but not ashamed,” Lyra spoke louder then Ginny, as if she knew I was listening and wanted me to hear.

“What did your father do?” Ginny asked, sounding curious.

“Something horrible. But then he tried to make it right, but only made it worse,” Lyra explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered.

“My father has done nothing to make his mistakes right,” I said rolling over to looked at Lyra, “Nothing.”

“You don’t know that,” Lyra said, “Just like I don’t know why my own father made the choices he did.”

I sat up, angry, and snapped, “This isn’t about your father. No one cares about your father. No one even knows who he is. I don’t even think you do. You weren’t born when he died, according to your story. I bet you don’t even know his name!”

“I do to know his name,” Lyra said calmly, “And if I told you, I don’t think you would believe me. Now, since you’re being so rude, I think I’ll go to sleep. Good night.”

She then rolled over and shut her eyes. I glared at her before I laid back down and rolled over too. Ginny sighed, before doing the same. It was silent and you heard faint whispered of what happened. Many were just asking how he had gotten in, something I wondered, too. I sighed, not knowing where this year was going. It just kept getting worse. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and then opened them, surprised.

A single tear had escaped my eye and rolled down the side of my nose.




A/N: This story is still on Haitus, guys, but I had some inspiration so i thought, why not treat you awesome people to another chapter? Especially since I'm in a good mood right now and I'll be gone all next week. (cheer camp! whoo!)

I hoped you all enjoyed it.
xoxo
Carolyn!

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