▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER EIGHT ▬▬▬▬▬

SOMEHOW, ESMERELDA'S TUTORING SESSIONS WITH Cedric seemed to have... switched without her even realizing it until now. Ever since he discovered that she was a 'Magic Savant' (his words, not hers), he was going to her more and more for help with his DADA lessons where almost everything had to be done non-verbally.

Of course, he was still helping her with her own work from the previous year, but their sessions have gotten longer because once he was finished tutoring her, she would tutor him afterwards. Esmerelda actually didn't mind it, she liked helping people! Plus, it kind of reminded her of her times training Lou Ellen with magic—the only difference being that Cedric was more of an older brother to her rather than a little sister.

"Okay, I'm gonna set this table on fire," she said, much to the horror of her upperclassman. "And you're gonna non-verbally cast the water-making spell in order to stop the fire from spreading and burning down the whole common room."

He gaped at her, but she only smiled in return. "Have you gone mad? You could just use paper or something—why the table?! That's too dangerous!"

"Trust me, Ced, danger is the best motivator." It worked for her at least, so why wouldn't it work for him? Without waiting for him to reply, she set placed her hand on the surface of the table and set it alight.

Cedric jumped to his feet, earning the attention of basically everyone else in the common room.

"No, no, no!" Esmerelda shouted before anyone could cast a spell. "We're tutoring here! Cedric has to fix this, nobody else!"

Cedric gulped. "A-aqu—"

"—Nope," she quipped, casting the silencing spell over him. He stared at her in horror. "Non. Verbally." She reminded him.

"Essie, the fire's gonna reach the carpet!" Someone squeaked.

"It'll be fine," she shrugged. "Cedric?"

The poor boy would've whimpered had he not been forcefully silenced. She gave him a stern look and he steeled himself. With a face full of determination, he pointed his wand at the fire and after several seconds, a harsh, messy stream of water shot out from it.

Esmerelda beamed once the fire had been extinguished. With a wave of her hand, all the burnt damage on the table had disappeared and she casually sat back down as if she hadn't just set a piece of school property on fire.

"Great job, Ced! See, I told you you could do it!" She exclaimed, removing the silencing spell off of him.

"You're bonkers," he said, sighing heavily as he practically collapsed on his chair. The crowd around them slowly calmed down, though some people were still shooting the pair wary looks.

She clapped for him, giving him a bright smile. "You did great! Though your reaction time could use a little work..."

He gave her an incredulous look. "I thought you were tutoring me for DADA not combat or whatever!"

Another shrug. "It helps to be quick on your feet. Now come on, have a slice of cake before break ends." She slid the box over to him and he eagerly opened it.

"Where do you keep getting all these cakes anyways?" He asked randomly as he cut himself a slice. "I noticed the sticker on the lid says 'New York', but that can't be possible. Oh, do you want a slice?"

"Yes please. And don't worry about where I get my cakes." She answered dismissively.

He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he suspected her of having some sort of illegal cake business or something equally as crazy.

Anyways, they enjoyed the cake Esmerelda bought—an oreo flavored cake this time with oreo cookies, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream for toppings—before it was time for them to head to class.

Remus was well enough to return to class, which was a damn relief for everyone because they were already getting sick of having Snape substitute. Esmerelda exchanged brief smiles with him before plopping down on her chair.

Once everyone got to their seats and class had started, they immediately sprung up with complaints about Snape.

"Why did you choose him to substitute, Professor?! Surely there was someone better!"

"—forced us to go way ahead and learn about werewolves and even tried to give us homework!" Remus turned white at that particular complaint.

"Yeah but thank Merlin Essie somehow managed to get him to change his mind," Lavender sighed in relief, before her face grew curious. "But how did you get him to listen to you anyways?"

Everyone turned to the aforementioned girl, including Remus. Esmerelda responded by smiling angelically. "I just reminded him of his lower station."

Remus shivered, remembering his not-so-fond memories of when Sirius genuinely believed her to be the Antichrist. Maybe he and James weren't so wrong after all... he couldn't help but think. Meanwhile, the rest of the students were confused and frustrated. How did Esmerelda make the nastiest person in the wizarding world obey her like some mindless guppy?

"Didn't something like that happen with Professor Lockhart...?" Ernie muttered to himself.

For today's DADA lesson, Remus brought out a glass box containing some weird, one-legged creature that appeared to made out of wisps of smoke. Esmerelda didn't feel too threatened by it since it looked so fragile. Plus, it was made out of smoke. The most it would do was give her lung problems...

"Does anyone recognize what this is?" Remus asked, looking around the class.

Esmerelda tentatively raised a hand. She was pretty sure she knew what this was.

He beamed, "Yes, Esmerelda?"

"A Hinky... punk?" She guessed.

He nodded. "Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. Everyone get ready to write down some notes. This'll be important later."

The students rummaged around for the parchments and quills (or in some other students' cases, notebooks and pencils/pens).

"Lures travelers into bogs," he began as they wrote down every word he was saying. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead—people follow the light—then—" The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When class was over, Esmerelda retreated to the library to finish with a book report for her history of magic class. Unfortunately for her, the Golden Trio just had to take over the table just a few feet away from where she sat.

As usual, Ron and Hermione were arguing while poor Harry was trying to keep the peace.

"—get your demon cat under control!" Ron hissed.

Oh not this again, Esmerelda inwardly groaned. They were arguing about their respective pets again, for the millionth time since school started. Basically, Ron was angry that Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, kept going after his pet rat, Scabbers.

"It's not Crookshanks' fault that Scabbers managed to escape his cage!" Hermione refuted hotly.

"Can we just get started on our homework...?" Harry asked hopelessly.

They ignored him.

"There's tons of cats around Hogwarts, your's is the only one that keeps trying to kill Scabbers!" Ron snapped.

"For Merlin's sake Ron! I've told you this a hundred times, get a better cage!" Hermione fumed, running a hand through her hair, only for her fingers to get stuck. She yanked once and a small chunk of hair was swiftly pulled out. She stared at her hand in horror. Even Ron stopped to stare.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed out, all previous anger melting away.

"You really need to drop some classes, Hermione, your hair's already falling out!" Harry pointed out worriedly.

"I'm fine!" She insisted, definitely looking just a smidge unhinged. "I'm just a little stressed is all! What with all of my studies and Buckbeak's trial!"

Ah, Esmerelda mused. Buckbeak was the Hippogriff that her dear cousin made the mistake of pissing off. It attacked him and he got away with a minor scratch at most, but acted like he needed to get his whole arm amputated or something. She hadn't been aware of it until recently, but rumor was going around that Draco tattled to his daddy and now the hippogriff was to be executed.

I shouldn't have given him that cake. Little jerk didn't deserve it. She pouted to herself. A part of her was aware if Draco knew what would happen to Buckbeak when he told his father about the incident. Had he really been planning for the animal to be killed? If so, then he was practically a sadist at this point... She really hoped that wasn't the case because there was a small, tiiiiny part of her that actually wanted to try and get along with him.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's argument finally subsided, allowing her to finish her assignment at last. After stuffing her things into her backpack, she left the library.

She was almost tempted to Mist travel to California, grab a bite of some In n Out (a fast food restaurant she grew to love during her less-than-fun road trip with Ethan from last year), but she felt too tired to do anything at the moment. If she went, she'd probably get stuck there due to the lack of energy and she didn't want to cause anymore panic in the castle.

As she headed for the Hufflepuff common room, she spotted a rat scuttling across the hallway. It startled her so much she nearly squealed.

Oh my gods, she thought, hand pressed against her beating heart. What the hell was a rat doing around here? She would've thought a super fancy school like Hogwarts would have an magical rat-repellent or something like that...

Hold on, wasn't Ron saying something about his pet rat, Scabbers, being missing again? Well, at least she found it. Might as well give him back.

She quickened her pace and found the rat again. This time it was trying to climb a staircase in an almost desperate manner.

"Scabbers?" She called out to it, as if it could understand her. The rat's reaction certainly suggested that though. It jumped and whirled around, then tried to run away.

"Oh no, you don't," she muttered, a green glow encasing the rat and making it freeze. It started floating in the air and into her awaiting hands. It squeaked, sounding loud and fearful. For some odd reason, it seemed absolutely terrified of her all of a sudden... Maybe she had accidentally hurt him with her magic?

She frowned at her actions. "Awww, sorry for scaring you, little guy. Don't worry, I'll take you back to Ron."

And then she smelled something bad. Holding him under his arms, she held him out just in time to avoid being pooped on. "Ew!" She grimaced. "Okay, I'm definitely taking you to Ron..."

Luckily for her, he was still in the library. When he saw her—or more specifically, the rat in her hands—his face positively lit up.

"You found him!" He exclaimed happily.

"Yep," she said dryly. "Saw him running around the hallways. Anyways, um, maybe you should take him to a vet? Or an animal healer, whatever you call it? When I found him he was practically pooping himself..."

Ron gasped and held his rat close to him despite the awful stench Scabbers was radiating with. He turned to give Hermione an angry look. "See what your cat did to him?"

"Oh Ronald, cats can't give rats diarrhea!" She rolled her eyes.

"I didn't say anything about diarrhea, but your cat's terrorized him so much that he can barely control his bowels! Scabbers is scared to death because of that thing!"

Esmerelda stood awkwardly to the side. "So, I'll just let you guys handle this..." She mouthed a 'good luck' to a resigned looking Harry and high-tailed it out of there.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

It was the beginning of December now and they were all nearing the winter break Esmerelda had been coveting for since school started. A few weeks ago Ravenclaw had beaten Hufflepuff during a Quidditch match and most of the Quidditch-obsessed kids in her House had been depressed ever since, but she wouldn't let their moods deter her.

Today was another Hogsmeade weekend and she was planning on spending it doing some much-needed Christmas shopping.

It seemed like all the other students had the same idea too. She practically had to fight a seventh year for this sweater she wanted to get for Lou Ellen and nearly drop-kicked some random middle-aged witch when she grabbed the last pair of earrings that she also wanted to get for Lou Ellen.

Nevertheless, she still managed to get good enough presents. After Mist traveling back and forth between the less crowded places of Hogsmeade and her dorm room multiple times, she had finally exhausted herself.

She trudged over to the Three Broomsticks in order to get herself a drink and maybe a snack. She had never been there before because to her knowledge, the Three Broomsticks was an inn and a pub and she was pretty sure a 'pub' was something like a bar. Usually, underage kids weren't allowed in pubs but after seeing the amount of students inside through the window, she decided that maybe she was allowed inside too.

And she turned out to be correct. When she stepped inside, she immediately spotted a Ron, Hermione and surprisingly Harry (who she knew to be barred from Hogsmeade) drinking at the far back of the room.

She went and ordered a Butterbeer, which seemed like a popular choice for students. By the time her drink arrived, several new arrivals stepped into the pub. It was Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, followed by Hagrid who was talking to some large man wearing a hideous lime-green bowler hat.

Cornelius Fudge, she remembered seeing his picture on the newspaper talking about her uncle's escape. She didn't pay them any mind, but in the corner of her eye she saw Hermione enchant a nearby Christmas tree to block them from view of the adults.

They didn't seem to notice her, because if they did then they would've spoken more quietly.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" Rosmerta, their server and the owner of the Three Broomsticks, asked.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?" He replied.

Esmerelda sighed heavily. They were talking about her uncle again.

"I did hear a rumor..." Rosmerta murmured.

Professor McGonagall sighed exasperatedly. "Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?"

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" Rosmerta whispered.

"I'm sure of it," he nodded.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" She said with an edge in her voice. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," he fidgeted in his seat. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

Esmerelda briefly pondered whether the dementors were forced here to make up for the lack of security Hogwarts had last year...

"I should think not," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "They are here to protect you all from something much worse... We all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Rosmerta said thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

So even other wizards thought it was weird for Sirius Black to suddenly go rogue. According to Andromeda, Sirius was the white sheep of the Black family. He didn't believe their blood supremacist ideals and even went so far to support Muggle rights. How did someone like that join the Death Eaters?

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said patronizingly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" She asked curiously. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," he confirmed.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

Esmerelda stiffened at what was being implied. They were going to talk about him betraying the Potters weren't they? They said that story wasn't widely known... Did that mean even Harry didn't know?

Oh gods, she thought, glancing over at the direction of the Christmas tree. Harry was right there. He was going to hear everything.

"Naturally," Rosmerta said with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

There was a loud thunk coming from the Christmas tree's direction.

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "Black and Potter. Ring-leaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"—I dunno. Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money." Hagrid chuckled.

"You'd have thought Black and Potters were brothers!" Professor Flitwick chimed. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge agreed. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

Esmerelda's eyes widened. Hold on, she didn't know about the godfather part!

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Rosmerta whispered.

He shook his head. "Worse even than that, m'dear... Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" Rosmerta asked breathlessly.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "An immensely complex spell, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Rosmerta asked.

"Naturally," Professor McGonagall answered. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" Rosmerta gasped.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," Professor McGonagall said darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

Esmerelda mulled this over. So her uncle and his friends were already growing suspicious of each other. She was pretty sure her presence only served to fuel the animosity. Sirius had been wary of Remus all because of her in the first place. And you always avoided communicating with someone you didn't trust, it was just natural instinct.

If she hadn't been there, if she hadn't been the catalyst to drive them even further apart, would this have happened?

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," Fudge sighed. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"—Black betrayed them?" Rosmerta finished eagerly.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

Esmerelda was gnawing on her lip. Something wasn't right about all of this. Things weren't fitting in! According to Remus, before the Potters' were killed, her uncle had went over to his house to drop her off. He described Sirius as 'scared' and speaking about Death Eater attacks and their friend, Peter... Why would he be scared? It would make sense if this was after Voldemort was defeated, but before?

This is so confusing, she thought, hand over her forehead.

"I met him!" Hagrid suddenly growled and she jumped. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me that rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!"

"Hagrid, please!" Professor McGonagall hissed. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha!" Hagrid went on a tirade and Esmerelda struggled to keep up with it while putting her thoughts into order.

"It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends." Fudge said. "Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

But wasn't her uncle already talking about Peter before the attack happened? Did he go to Peter or did Peter go to him?

"Pettigrew... that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" Rosmerta asked.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," McGonagall sighed. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now..."

"There, now, Minerva," Fudge said kindly. "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' and then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

Professor McGonagall sniffled loudly. "Stupid boy... foolish boy... he was always hopeless at dueling... should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," Fudge shook his head. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him... a heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"

Okay, well Sirius definitely sounded a bit crazy there...

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," he finished. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," Fudge said slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" Rosmerta asked. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan," Fudge replied nervously. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was silence, and then the sound of someone setting their glass down.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," Professor McGonagall said. They all finished their drinks and rose to their seats, heading out of the pub. Esmerelda purposely avoided Harry's direction as she exited as well, not wanting to see the pure shock and horror on his face.

She knew the full story now... but why did it feel like it was still missing a big chunk of it?

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

She was restless that night. During dinner she couldn't find it in herself to look at Harry in the eye anymore, pointedly looking away from the Gryffindor table. Nevertheless, she still managed to accidentally catch glimpses of him. The haunted look on his face made her feel sick.

Sirius Black was guilty, everyone thought that. But a part of her still felt that something was terribly amiss. Or was she just in denial because she was that desperate for some normalcy in her mortal family?

Ugh, everything's such a mess... she thought in annoyance, jabbing her fork into her pasta.

She was barely able to fall asleep that night since her thoughts were so busy. She was pretty sure Harry was feeling the same way too. After three hours spent of restlessly turning around in bed, she was finally able to succumb to sleep.

But naturally, she had to have unpleasant dreams too.

She was being pulled underground. Her surroundings were growing darker and darker until she couldn't see a thing. And then... she finally reached the bottom floor, but rather than seeing the core of the Earth she found herself in what looked to be an underground kingdom...

Full of ghosts. Some had grievous wounds permanently stuck to them, others looked perfectly unharmed, but what they all had in common was the sad, melancholic looks on their faces.

She didn't know where she was until she saw the gigantic three-headed dog guarding what looked to be a gate. This one was a lot larger than the one she met in her first year of school. It also looked a hundred times deadlier, but for now it was just boredly watching the ghosts enter the gates. It was Cerberus, the real one. And if she was seeing Cerberus than that must mean—

I'm in the Underworld, she realized.

Her body started floating without her permission. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no! She panicked, trying to regain control of herself but it was no good. Could her day get any worse?! Why the heck was she dreaming of the Underworld?!

Her flying pace quickened and she was scaling through the Underworld like a fast breeze.

Finally, she started to slow down, but didn't stop. A few meters away from her was a rocky path leading to a glowing and smoking wasteland that seemed to go on for miles and miles. She didn't need a sign to know where she was going. It was the Fields of Punishment, the place where all the bad souls go.

She had no choice but to enter it. She saw a whole bunch of horrifying things that would probably give anyone nightmares to last a lifetime. The Fields of Punishment seemed to be sectioned off by rivers of lava, minefields, and barbed wire fences in order to separate the different torture areas. She saw one section where there was about a hundred people tied to stakes, set aflame and screaming as they were eternally burnt. One area had people sliding down a giant razor blade before landing in a pool of lemon juice. Then there was another area where a bunch of people were getting chased by hungry demons over a field of broken glass.

Esmerelda couldn't find it in herself to look away. It was so horrifying but disgustingly interesting at the same time. She made a mental note to find a therapist once this dream was over with.

Finally, they reached a large apartment building that looked like any other regular apartment building in London. It was stationed between a field of cacti that people were being forced to run through and a large vat of boiling oil where people were boiling alive (or was it dead?).

She had no idea what an apartment building was doing in the middle of the Fields of Punishment, but she knew that nothing good was inside it.

But of course, she was forcefully being dragged in. As she drew closer, she saw a plaque on the door. Despite the fancy script, she managed to read what it was saying.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Fuck, she thought as her body fell through the doors. The inside of it wasn't anything like the inside of an apartment building. It resembled more like a dungeon.

Hold on, I've been here before! She was here in her last dream!

She passed through the cells, and because of her slower pace she was able to see the prisoners more clearly. Even worse, she was able to recognize some of the people in here. She had seen their faces from the photo album Andromeda had kindly lent her.

The shackled red haired woman who was screaming in pain was Lucretia Black. The cell next to hers belonged to her husband, Ignatius. Then she spotted Andromeda's parents in their own cells. Then saw her own grandparents too.

Her mortal family had a whole section of torture just for them in the Fields of Punishment.

She finally slowed to a stop in front of one of the cells. The cell of the person she had dreamt of long ago.

Like the others, he was still shackled to the wall, screaming as if a bunch of invisible knives was being stabbed into every inch of his flesh.

She felt whatever strings that were attached to her limbs have been cut. Freely, she stepped forward and peered through the bars. She could see his face now.

"Regulus Black," she murmured.

— author's note —

Rat!Peter: *just doing rat things*

Essie: *shows up and uses glowy green magic on him*

Rat!Peter: *war flashbacks of the Antichrist baby*

Yeah Peter quite literally shit himself when he saw her 😂 😂 😂 😂 He still remembers all those times where she pretty much terrorized the Marauders when she was a baby.

Also I don't think I ever mentioned this, but Esmerelda's 'abduction' when she was a baby isn't widely known because of who her 'father' is. The only ones who knew of her existence as 'Sirius' daughter' are members of the Order (from that time). Her abduction wasn't reported either for the same reasons.

AND YES!! THE MAN IN CHAINS (chapter three) WAS REGULUS ALL ALONG!!! AND HE'S IN THE UNDERWORLD!!! I think all of you thought I was talking about Azkaban, but nope, it's in the Underworld! And no, he's not alive. He is 100% dead.