𝗔𝗖𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜 ━━ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘
123. one who tore apart many

MINISTRY
july, 1981

          "𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗡," 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗨𝗣𝗢𝗡 a knock on the door at her Ministry office, and her secretary stood with a bored look on his face. Don't get him wrong, he loved his job but just this morning, he got told off by Scarlet for gossiping too much and was now officially fussy with everything he is saying or doing.

"There is a Lorelei Lantsov asking for you," Kai said with a tiny, nonchalant shrug, "says it's urgent."

Scarlet squinted her eyes, that name sounded so familiar. Then it clicked in her mind, "Lantsov?"

"Yes," Kai replied oddly politely, "the Unspeakable."

"Please, tell her to wait out in the conference room, I'll be with her in a moment."

"Of course, milady" Kai deadpanned, and then his expression was completely changed to a mischievous one, "Also, any idea why Bartemius Crouch's son has been lingering about?"

"In our department?" The girl asked for confirmation.

"No, just sneaking around other areas." He answered, "there's also those nasty rumours going around, you know? That he's a..." he dramatically turned around to make sure nobody was listening, and grinned whilst whispering, "a death eater."

"I'm not sure about all that gossip," she replied, sceptical and confused. He nodded before closing the door after stepping out. Barty Crouch Sr. would drop dead than ever spend a second with his son, Scarlet found his whereabouts and visits to the Ministry suspicious.

The witch quickly finished whatever she was working on, putting the papers into a neat file and shoving them in her drawers. She made her way to where she asked Lantsov to wait, and sent her a charming smile as soon as she entered.

"Lantsov," she greeted with a nod, shaking her hand politely, "long time no see."

Except, Bridget did not receive a warm greeting in return and instead, Lantsov gripped her wrist and started to tug her down the corridor, the pair started to walk further away from the Law Enforcement section of the building.

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"No," the girl scoffed in return. Lori was a Ravenclaw Chaser that Bridget went to school with. They might have spoken once or twice regarding something irrelevant but Scarlet does not remember. "There is something important that I need to show you."

"In the Department of Mysteries?" Scarlet asked, "look, I already get in enough trouble for not following the rules around here— if they find me—"

Lantsov dragged her harshly to the Hall of Prophecy, thousands and thousands of prophecy holders organised in their designated spots.

"Okay, Bridget, you have to listen closely," Lori said, "very carefully."

      She was looking at her with a certain seriousness that Scarlet often comes across with others. She wasn't just stern, and the way she used her name, there was a different undertone this time which meant this was important — way more than important. The look in her eyes meant that this was different—this, what she knew and were about to tell her was something extremely grave. 

"They have a prophecy on you, and the elements it holds might be worrying," Lori breathed out, "I was speaking to Sybill about..." her breath hitches, she gulped lightly and continued, "—about Harry Potter's prophecy; she said last week, she was threatened into obtaining something about you."

"They could not have had access to this, could they?" She asked as Lori finally found the Prophecy Holder with Scarlet's name under it. Staring back into the girl's eyes, she felt like maybe she shouldn't know. The anger from unanswered questions and fear in her body was entirely consuming — so she acknowledged that even though there was no turning back, she needed to know.

"Not unless they have an inside traitor and there are rumours going about that there are a lot of spies within the Ministry working for You-Know-Who, I have recently been working on devices that can be used to spy on Death Eaters' meetings — and people bring up the traitor-matter all the time, I hear the Order's got one."

"You're building... a machine-spy?" Scarlet arched a brow, "Merlin's balls, Lantsov, that is bloody genius."

Lantsov nodded proudly, sending her a grin and almost forgetting the momentum of the situation, "thank you, it means a lot coming from you— I'm straying off-topic here, I'm saying that they could have accessed this easily considering you work here, all they need is presence of your magic for them to open up the prophecy."

"Lantsov," Scarlet eerily said, eyebrows pinching together in a panicked manner, "what does the prophecy say?"

      Lantsov was shuffling through some papers and then placed the spun-glass ball in front of her. It shone blue, smokes within it. A haunting, swirling mist. Scarlet gently touched the crystal with her gloved hands, watching the mist starting to turn foggier.

      As Sibyll Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in harsh, hoarse tones Scarlet had never heard her use once before.

      'A fire created by the Dark Lord himself rises into flames he cannot control, for it was never bound to burn the way he had expected. The cunning woman in possession of Salazar Slytherin's purest blood, his book of ancient sorcery, his black opal. The enchantress remains forever treacherous to the Dark Lord. For however long he shall live, she will evermore cast a haunting shadow over his head — dead or living, with even Death at her mercy and darkness cowering before her as an ally. The bitter taste of the heiress' fury shall bring justice to all the blood tainting the hands of one who tore apart many.'

      There was nothing but silence as Scarlet drank the words.

"Sybill confided in me yesterday about the matter, she was so frightened when a Death Eater came in and threatened her to tell the prophecy—" Lori explained in a hasty manner but she was interrupted.

"So the other side knows of this now? She told them?" Her voice low. Her usual tone of attitude was gone, she didn't have the energy to include it.

"No," Lori shook her head, "at least, Sybill didn't tell them, so they hexed her and left. But she did store this prophecy and there is a chance that sometime between Wednesday and today, they could have stolen or accessed it."

      Scarlet's head was hurting. Tom Riddle had knowledge of Scarlet's friends, the people she loves and if he gets a glimpse of her betrayal then everything she's loved, she will lose. It will all be her fault, she has put all these innocent people in risk.

      Her head was hurting, too much information racking her brain at once. Her mind was cloudy.

She must have lost a bit of balance due to the dizziness because Lantsov held her with a grip on her shoulders, "woah, woah, relax," she said, alerted, "relax, okay?"

      Bridget locked eyes with her for a moment, and even through her clogged brain she could tell that she cared, even just a little bit. Lantsov would not have bothered to find her and inform her otherwise. 

"Look, Bridget, I stayed up all night for the past three days, trying to make sense of it," she said sadly, a panicked look in her eyes, "I know that you are a descendant of Salazar Slytherin and that directly relates you to You-Know-Who, like, blood relation. Whatever power he possesses, you possess twice as much considering you're pureblood, both Bridgets and Malfoys come from ancient powers— and don't you worry," she assured when Scarlet opened her mouth, "I won't tell anyone, it's not my business."

"How the fuck do you know all that?" Scarlet grimaced, face scrunching in confusion.

Lori deadpanned, "Books."

Scarlet ran a hand though her golden locks, sighing loudly, "Salazar's sake, fucking Ravenclaws."

"I have broken the prophecy down, here, I have written it down," Lori was shuffling through her paper-filled bag again, and pulled out a piece of large paper. The prophecy was written on it in pretty handwriting, every word annotated in detail.

"I think I need to take a seat," Scarlet felt dizzy as she sat down on the nearest chair, eyes scanning the piece of paper.

"A fire created by the Dark Lord— perhaps... I might be totally out of line here, did he ever train you in any way, or teach you the dark arts? I won't judge."

"Yes."

"There is that, except, everything he had taught you will come back and bite him in the arse because he cannot control you. Being Slytherin's descendant, I don't doubt you possess the man's family heirlooms, I'll just skip that part except the black opal; it was a ring that Salazar gave his wife and it passed down the Gaunt family line."

"I know, Lantsov."

"Where is it?"

"With Sirius."

"REALLY?" She shrieked in excitement, "I knew you two would be together even after everything that's happened, and I was always rooting for you."

"Can we stay on topic?"

"This part is simple, somehow, you betrayed the Dark Lord, perhaps by fighting against him—"

"How do you know I'm fighting against him?" Scarlet tilted her head, trying to throw Lori off. Sometimes she lets her intrusive thoughts win.

"Because I've heard from a friend that you work for the Order, I can't see you working for the dark side," Lori shrugged with a small smile, "you will make the dark lord feel terrible about everything he has done, haunting him which means... he will try to get rid of you."

"I think I figured that out myself, thank you, Lantsov," she said in a tedious manner, "oh for god's sake, I'm going to die."

"That's all I needed to tell you," Lori told her, sending her another smile, "I hope you take care of yourself, and whatever mess you've gotten yourself into..." she paused for a deep breath, "I hope you can get out of that trouble."

"I appreciate it, thank you, Lantsov," Scarlet gratefully said, sending her a kind and polite smile and a nod of head.

"If you need anything, any assistance, Owl me instantly," Lori encouraged, "I will be here to help."

MALFOY MANOR
july, 1981

      Riddle gathered and sat with Malfoy and Snape quietly in the attic of Malfoy Manor. The chilly atmosphere even made Malfoy shiver, feeling the dark lord's eerie stare underneath the dim candlelight.

"Where is everybody else, my lord?" Lucius asked politely.

"There is nobody else," Riddle answered eerily, "only you and Severus."

The two of them shared a glance, and Snape regarded Lucius with a silent nod.

Voldemort had a light smirk playing on his lips. "You see... Barty Crouch has claimed a very useful information for me... a prophecy of such importance that none of you could obtain... one that tells me about an obstacle in my path." he spoke intimidatingly quietly, tone heavy and dark.

"Is this about the Potter child?" Lucius asked. 

"No," he dismissed him, regarding him with a chill distaste for asking questions, "this is about one of our own; someone who was naturally born with the power I worked so hard to obtain— someone who threatens to snatch it from me." His tone was filled with distaste and resentment. "Someone who wronged me."

"What is it, my Lord?" Severus asked curiously. "What's the obstacle?"

"Scarlet Bridget."

Severus felt the blood in his body freeze up at the mention of her name. He shared a look with Lucius who looked utterly afraid and equally shocked. For a second, Lucius thought it was all a hoax.

However, he knew this was not a hoax or a joke. It was mind boggling, overwhelming and insane. When Lucius Malfoy had joined the Dark Lord, he had joined on a condition. The deal was that Voldemort keeps his family out of this nasty war, to make sure not a dingle member of his family is hurt no matter how distasteful their actions may be. 

Lucius only wondered what on earth his cousin must have done to lead Voldemort into trying to get rid of her. How can his cousin—one he shares blood with, one he grew up with—be an obstacle in the Dark Lord's path. And when it comes to choose between his family and Voldemort... he might as well declare the war a shitshow and get himself out. Only... there was no way out, unfortunately. Lucius could not think, he let out a shaky breath and glanced at the man at the end of the table. 

"She's one of ours," Lucius chuckled fearfully. "My Lord." He bowed his head, not meaning to speak against him.

"Indeed," Voldemort nodded. "What a shame, is it not? She is quite extraordinary, and far too much of an important thing for me and my cause."

Severus began to stumble on his words. "What are you— are you getting rid of her?"

"I cannot allow anyone to become my equal, Severus." Voldemort deadpanned, as though it was something obvious, "she could be a dangerous traitor, she could be resisting my instruction and prove to be my ultimate demise." 

"Please," Severus whispered out, his fingernails tapped against the table nervously. "Spare her..." He was breathing heavily, not knowing the consequences of speaking against the Dark Lord. "She hasn't done anything, she doesn't know anything... she's not a threat."

She's most definitely a threat, Severus thought.

Voldemort's curiosity perked up at his words. "Don't tell me now, that you've grown to care for the girl."

"She's— was my friend." Severus spoke with an even tone, trying to remain confident. "She never wishes to harm anyone." Another lie, it's of grave fortune that he is fantastic at occlumency

Lucius interrupted. "My Lord; I insist you hear out my offer— I'll keep an eye on her, I'll make sure she doesn't come near your path."

"I must disappoint the two of you," Voldemort spoke emotionlessly. "The girl must be gone."

Severus defeatedly leaned back on his seat, sharing a glance with Lucius who squeezed his eyes shut. "You cannot possibly ask one of us to carry out the task." The dark haired boy said.

Voldemort almost looked disappointed before chuckling humourlessly, holding his wand. "Don't be silly, Severus... Scarlet is far too important to be killed by anyone but me."

"Then make it easy," Severus pleaded. "Make it easy for her."

Voldemort blinked in surprise that he was being told what to do. Severus certainly was indicating to use the Killing Curse on Scarlet to make it easy.

"I cannot possibly give an extraordinary witch like her such a simple death, can I, Severus?" He spoke, almost bored of the eyes trained on him. The Death Eaters were utterly confused and equally fearful—if the Dark Lord was willing to kill his right hand, none of the others were truly safe. "No, no," he answered his own questions with a peculiar laugh. "I will be getting rid of her in my own... special way,"

Although what happens in the Death Eaters meeting is meant to stay in the Death Eaters' meeting, Lucius couldn't help but go back home and tell his wife about the matter.

SOMEWHERE IN LONDON

      "The infamous Scarlet Bridget," a voice said behind her, making her whip her head around. "I've waited so long to finally see what all the fuss is about." She was just on her way from the Ministry, her mind now all boggled up from the information she has received from Lantsov. Suddenly, everything was different. If Riddle gets his hand on that specific piece of information, she is as good as dead. Better off dead.

"Have you seen enough?" She pointed to herself ignorantly, shrugging it off.

"I've been wondering what hold you have over the Dark Lord to be such a trusted soldier," he walked closer, and alarm bells started to ring in Scarlet's mind. He chuckled darkly, pulling up his sleeve and revealing his death mark. "I don't really see much."

"Well, there is a reason you and I don't know each other," Scarlet reached under her coat, grabbing her wand but not pulling it out. "You're simply not worth mine or the Dark Lord's time,"

"I gave everything there is for this very cause," the man snarled back, pulling out his own wand and pointing it at her sharply. He was enraged when she didn't flinch at all. "Yet it is you, a young girl, who gets to have it all... since the age of seventeen; how dare you insult me?"

Scarlet found it ridiculous that he was here to harm her due to jealousy.

However, it turns out, it was not the work of a single man. There was an allegiance. She felt a figure stepping towards her from the back. Although they meant to be sneaky, Scarlet picked up on it, their whispering footsteps. 

She turned around quickly on her heels before the other figure could get near her more, it was a woman in a hood. Scarlet wielded her wand and pointed it directly at hers.

"We all know how this is going to end, so drop the wand," she spoke intensely, glancing sideways where the man stood now. "Or I sell you two peasants out to the Dark Lord to be brutally murdered,"

It hit a nerve. The woman grunted in anger, flickering her wand as a green light came through. "Inmobulus—"

The woman was cut off when a bright red aura came through Scarlet's wand, she casted a non-verbal spell that froze the woman's hand into ice, forcing her to drop the wand.

With her attention on the woman, the man neared her and elbowed her away from the woman's figure, earning a grunt of pain from Scarlet.

He then casted a spell quickly in rage. "Incendi—"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A bright surge of green light hit the man in the back as he dropped to the ground, instantly dead.

"NO! NO!" The woman cried aloud, suggesting they must have been close friends leading to the allegiance to attack Scarlet—which is pathetic.

Scarlet glanced behind her to see Lucius Malfoy standing with his wand raised, jaw clenched as he stared at the dead body being hovered over by the crying, unknown woman.

"Go," he firmly told Scarlet.

"Lucius, you'll get in trouble; he was a death eater—" Scarlet said, wondering if he could get in trouble for attacking one of his own.

"Go," Lucius repeated louder. "I'll handle it,"

She nodded sharply. It was not like her intolerable cousin could snitch to Celeste anymore for obvious reasons, but she listened to him for once nonetheless. Before she passed him, he shot her a tiny, reassuring smile which she nodded to.

A sigh of relief left her nostrils as she walked away. However, as she was walking off, she was stopped by a grip of delicate fingers stopping her and pulling her into an alleyway.

"Narcissa?" Scarlet questioned in surprise, and the woman looked petrified, looking around and trying to lay her eyes on her husband who was out of sight at the moment.

"Scarlet, you have to hide!" Narcissa cried out, clutching onto Draco who rested in her arms, a rather unusual tone for a calm woman like her.

The girl swiftly turned back to the initial incident, brows furrowing at Lucius' figure running towards the two blonde women in a hasty manner.

"You have to hide, seek shelter." Narcissa warned, totally panicked, and Scarlet's heart dropped further and further into a dark pit.

"Cissa," Lucius warned. "He'll kill us all if you—"

"He's after you, the Dark Lord, he knows something about you!" Narcissa sobbed with Draco in her arms. She was speaking at a rapid speed. "He knows everything, he's gonna kill you the first chance he gets, Scarlet, you have to go into hiding—"

"Cissa, that's enough!" Lucius cut her off with wide eyes, hands trembling at the revelation of the information. His jaw clenched as he glanced at Scarlet momentarily, "Go. Go and hide and keep a low-profile. Don't do anything stupid."

"When— when will I see you again?" She asked shakily, paranoia in her eyes.

"It's not safe for you to go out anymore, we cannot risk gatherings." Lucius painfully said.

Scarlet softly wrapped her arms around Narcissa, careful of Draco who was staring up at the two blonde women with wide, grey eyes. Those star-like eyes. Narcissa sobbed a little, her icy gaze and posture melting, a tear escaped her eyes. Scarlet looked down at Draco and kissed the top of his head, soothing his hair. Draco, ever so gently, wrapped his tiny fingers around one of her fingers. Scarlet could sob right there but she maintained composure.

"Be careful." Lucius said in almost a warning tone, placing a hand on her shoulder.

This was her family, her blood. It was hard to outrun the love she feels for them.

"The Imperius Curse," she whispered to Lucius, in a dangerously low tone. Lucius picked up on the hint she was indicating and nodded gratefully.

      So whoever wins the war, the Malfoys have an escape. Scarlet does not support her family's views but it's so difficult to hate them because they're the only ones in the entire damn world who unconditionally loves her. Growing up in absence of a parent is agonising and Draco is innocent. She did not want that pain for her godson.

      Scarlet Bridget always looks out for her family, no matter how much people belittle her for it.

      Bridget felt her hands starting to shake as she turned back again and walked out of the cursed place, putting her hood on and hiding her face as she panted loudly. Fear encapsulated her. Her heart thumped against her ribs like a wild animal against a cage as she walked by, re-thinking the look of absolute terror on the Malfoys' face. Both of them.

      She felt the weight of the darkness on her shoulder finally starting to crush her.

KING'S CROSS

      SIRIUS BLACK WAS HAVING A PRETTY GOOD DAY. As good as it gets in the midst of a war. The wind was blowing in his hair perfectly as he rode his charmed motorcycle towards Diagon Alley; his last mission was a massive success, he had his life together and he had his girl.

Yet, sometimes when Scarlet is busy at work since she actually has a life unlike him— him who now has no James to hang out with, he often finds himself at Muggle bars.

He's near Kings Cross now, every now and then he would get a feeling that desperately clings onto him, even now, screaming at him saying home, home, home. Grimmauld's Place was not far from the bar he sat at, it was certainly brighter. Bright flashes of colour; loud laughter and overcrowded rooms where he couldn't breathe.

Music, heavy drums, a deep bass vibrating inside his chest. Some girl was celebrating her birthday with her million friends, nauseating perfumes filling the air.

      Sirius hates sweet scents, it makes him feel overwhelmed. He prefers the smell of alcohol and smoke, intoxicating perfumes. Like Scarlet's. All of her.

Sirius drinks more as a Muggle bartender keeps on pouring him glasses. More and more and more. Some girl with that horrendous, sweet scent is hovering over him, twirling his hair in her finger and giggling in his ear.

"Sod off," he mumbles something like that, drunkenly. She presses further, he shoves her, spilling whiskey over her outfit—if one could call such things clothes—which conjures her massive, scowling boyfriend. Sirius was not thinking straight, all he knew was that the man may have had more muscles but he was certainly not more handsome. 

"You should have never touched my girl, pretty boy," he threateningly glared at Sirius whose ego only kept on shooting higher, even an angry, raging bastard like this mullet-man could not deny Sirius' decent looks.

      A preposterous laugh tumbled away from the Black's lips, and his nose screwed up tight like it always did when he was somewhat amused. The man, now furious to no end, tackled Sirius to the ground, and a drunk Sirius contemplated using his wand for a moment.

The fight escalated, and the next thing he knows is that a sharp pain is possessed in his stomach, some stinging edge biting into his skin, stabbing in and drawing blood.

Sirius feels like he's about to throw up. He's dizzy, his head throbs painfully. He stumbles out of the bar under everybody's stare, and even with a sweaty forehead, black clothes soaking with blood and that agonising expression, girls were fawning over him.

      It did not help his ego.

Men are so fucking insane sometimes, Sirius did not do anything, did he? Yet he is the one who gets toppled over. For fuck's sake. He likes crazy girls, not guys— that madness doesn't suit men. This is not to say he has some weird obsession with lunacy.

      Sirius grew up alongside insane women, starting with his mentally deranged mother and her peculiar cousins. It was not strange that he fell in love with a girl whose bloodline is rumoured to be cursed with madness. Sirius always liked his girls insane.

All of the sudden, he halted on his footsteps and deeply regretted even thinking about insane women. There she stands, tall and proud, dressed in power and wealth.

      The woman that had once been his mother. 

Many years ago, she'd wear her hair free, a cascade of black silk covering her shoulders, framing a younger face. A loving smile with a hint of craziness in it. It was so long ago, so unimaginable that Sirius thinks it's some other stable woman he might have made up in his mind, it was a figment of vision from another life.

      The woman before him is the complete opposite. He makes a vow in his mind that he shall never visit Kings Cross again.

      He locks eyes with her. Her breath visibly hitched, then the overflowing anger exploded in her eyes.

Bitter, hair pulled back in an elegant but strict style, tugging at her skin. There's no kindness in her eyes, no love. No smiles. Still proud and tall as she walks in an elegant manner, whispers of her black shoes clicking and echoing, black dress and black robes.

When he squints his eyes, ignoring the throbbing ache in his stomach, he sees a cat. His mother is holding a cat. A black-fur cat which scowled at Sirius with vexation, and he scowled right back.

"I heard you're risking your life in the most insolent, undignified war ever known to mankind!" She declared, loud enough for him to hear. The hells could break loose yet Walburga Black never mislays her beliefs. Muggles shot them glances and Sirius' cheeks burned red in embarrassment. Walburga was standing with her posture pin straight, that same icy expression stitched to her face.

"You lost the right to serve me with lectures years ago, mother." He spat, starting to walk off. He was stumbling, and slurring which made him curse himself for drinking all that whiskey. 

"All this for what?" She called after him, clearly outraged but far too dignified to express it, "to fight against a filthy mudblood who wants to kill some baby?"

"That baby is my best friend's, my brother's." He sternly glared.

"HOW DARE YOU—!"

"Not even the gods above can scream at you to stop being such a pretentious, raging witch, can they?" He scoffed, turning to face her. He made sure to shoot her the most resentful and grimacing expression ever but the woman seemed glad to receive any sort of feeling from her son anyway.

      Her lips twitched to that horrid smirk.

      He scoffs again and stumbles away from her, turning on his heels. 

"Don't walk away from me," she stated through gritted teeth, ordering him around, "Run all you want, how exactly can you outrun that blood in your veins?" She demands, scolding him and advancing towards him, but then she abruptly stops. Her eyes leave his face and travel to his abdomen, his bloodied clothes, "Sirius?"

"Spare me." Sirius rubbed his eyes using the heels of his palms, vision blurry and head ringing way too much to tolerate his mother's taunts without dying. The alley was spinning around him. The black clothes really put all the blood out of sight, not noticeable until studied closer. That bastard back at the bar stabbed him with some sort of pocket knife. 

      Before he could find composure, she was now standing closer, and then she was tugging him away by the wrist to an alleyway with no people, probably to murder him for good. Those hands still somehow held immense power, the same hands that would drag him by the ear around House Black, occasional slaps and grips of jaws.

She presumes that was better than the punishments Lucius would receive; Scarlet says Abraxas used kitchen utensils on his son.

      Walburga was healing him, hovering her wand over his bloodied wounds until he felt nothing but a fading ache. All that crimson liquid vanished. He felt better. Due to the healing, of course, but a part of him knew that he felt better because... he was in his mother's arms. One cannot hate their mothers so much that they don't desperately crave for the feeling of their soothing, warm arms.

"All that blood you're spilling fighting in repellent, dishonourable wars, my blood that you're wasting!" She yells in her icy tone. Sirius remembers the screaming, the exact pitch of her tone all too well.

"What I do is none of your damn business," he spat back, shuddering at the thought of all that sympathy he felt a moment ago. 

      Their eyes meet, and Sirius has never seen her so... scared. There were times that even Walburga Black was afraid, of course, most included those times when Orion would regard her with his scornful looks, one that would provoke a shimmering fear in her eyes and her pale skin would drain of colour even further.

      She's grown frail. Skinny. Her skin is stretched thin over her long fingers, adorned by jewellery and family heirlooms.

"Tell me, how is your wife?" She asks nonchalantly, as though they were friends catching up on life.

Sirius locked eyes with her, wide eyes and brows raised, "Who?" Of course, this woman knows. She somehow knows everything about Sirius, disowned or not.

"Scarlet." She squinted her eyes.

"I'm... uh— we're not married," he awkwardly coughed instead of replying with some sarcastic, rude remark. "Only engaged, living together too."

"Of course, you're not married," she mumbled, sending him a look of disapproval. "Engaged, still? You have always been awful at making the correct decisions, I suggest you marry the girl before you mess everything up like you always do."

"'Ta for the support," he glared, "I'm doing perfectly fine without you, I don't need your unwise advice in my life anymore."

"I know," she assured sharply. "I know you don't need me anymore." She sharply gripped his jaw in her slender fingers, using a wave of her hand to get rid of the small cut on his forehead. 

Sirius melted into her touch, and then jolted awake from that daze, he never said he didn't need her anymore, it was her screaming and horrible guidance that he was glad to get rid of. "Is there anything else?" He asked bitterly. 

      His mother smiled, one of those threatening, dangerous smiles that would scare Sirius into crippling back in the days.

"Once upon a time, you were happy with me, you know?" She says, searching his eyes to figure out if he remembers those memories. She cherished those memories very dearly, the time before she turned cold and harsh.

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Our relatives would bring you and Regulus sweets, you would eat all of them at one go and Regulus would save them for later to last him longer. You would then steal his sweets and eat those too," her lips twitched him, that mesmerising pretty glint in her eyes. "You'd come and tell me about it so proudly, so happily— you'd think you're so smart."

      Sirius nodded the entire time she talked.

"You'd cry to me whenever you were hurt, you never let me dance with other men at balls— always demanding my attention and hells, you even tried suffocating Regulus with a pillow once out of jealousy... you were fond of me."

"I'm not the one who ruined it all," he says, tears gathering in his eyes but he was not going to be weak. This was the woman who emotionally rotted his insides, making him incapable of finding healthy and loving relationships, the same woman who stood and watched as his father cursed him endlessly. He traces his footsteps and everything goes back to her, it's all her fault. "You were my mother, of course I loved you with all my heart and soul, and you gave me nothing in return."

"When the two of you were growing up," she said very quickly like time was running out, she did not even acknowledge what he said, "I got to spoil Regulus, raise him the way I desired."

"He was a better son." Sirius replied. "Your perfect son."

"Orion wanted me to be tough on you because you were our heir, it may not have been very clear but I always loved you more." She suddenly says and Sirius keeps on glaring at her, this woman has no right to now share her feelings merely because she lost everybody else, and whose fault was that? Hers alone.

"Stop it." Sirius hissed, curling his fingers into fists and praying to all lords above that he does not start crying like a pathetic little boy in his mother's arms after being wounded.

"I didn't like you sometimes, you were impossibly rude and stubborn and never listened and yes, Regulus may have been perfect but he wasn't you," Walburga said, "I always loved you more."

"Don't do this," Sirius' lips may have wobbled, he was shaking his head, stepping away. "It's not fair."

Walburga did not bother to step forward, just stayed where she was, "I was a terrible mother, and a worse person but it ripped me apart to see you leave, it hurt, Sirius, it hurt so terribly."

      As strong of a person Sirius may have been, one can never truly grow so old and mature to not crave for their mother's love. So he stepped closer. That hollow feeling in his chest was glimmering with brightness, some strange sorts of fullness that made him think everything was wrong but so right at the same time.

      Walburga may have been a prejudiced, purity-obsessed, scornful old woman but a mother's love is no match to unjust morals.

      She had to tiptoe, being hit with the realisation that her son has grown to be so much taller than her and she hadn't been there to see it was a train wreck. She pressed her fingers at the back of his neck to make him lean down, and then she pressed a small kiss on his forehead. She forgot all about that damn cat who kept hissing at Sirius from the ground. 

"I always loved you the most, I promise," she whispered in his ear, cradling his head as though he was a little boy, "if you have any mercy left in your soul, if you ever loved me at all, then you shall not make me have to bury you. I will not survive it."

Sirius pulls away harshly, breathing heavily and biting his cheeks. "Goodbye," he said with an icy tone and not sparing her a single last glance before walking off. "Goodbye, mum," he says to himself after he is out of her sight.

BRIDGET'S HOUSE

      Scarlet entered the bedroom and her heart plopped out of her body, startled, she felt herself jump and a hand clasped her chest in fear.

"SALAZAR FUCKING SLYTHERIN! WHAT THE FUCK!?" She exclaimed, yelled out in astonishment and fear. Her glance was upon a giant black dog in the corner, plopped on the floor quietly. "What in hell's name do you think you're doing—? Are you trying to kill me?"

Padfoot softly glided across the wooden floor, making little noises with his soft paws and circled around her legs before sitting back down with those innocent puppy eyes.

"Oh no," she muttered, eyes widened in fear, "what have you done?"

He just sat there at her legs, staring up at her with a frowning expression, glossy grey eyes. Scarlet plopped her bag down and sighed softly, placing her hands on her hips.

"Will you change back to you? There is something I need to tell you," she told him, watching Padfoot turn back into Sirius within a blink of an eye.

"I saw my mother." He blurted out, the words tumbling off his tongue before he could help it.

"You what?" She gaped, purse dropping to the floor as she guided him towards the bed and sat him down, plopping down beside him on the bed. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he placed a hand on her thigh, looking down on the floor.

"We spoke."

"Oh, Sirius," Scarlet placed one of her dainty hand on his shoulder, using her other to take his and kiss the back of his hand gently.

"She looks like a dementor." He locked eyes with her.

"'Cause she sucks the joy out of you—?"

"No, she genuinely looks like a Dementor," he muttered sadly, scooping closer as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Like, physically."

Scarlet sighed, and asked for him to come to bed. She leaned against the headboard and he threw himself beside her, laying his head on her lap.

"All dressed in black like some crestfallen widow, daunting eyes," he felt tears gathering behind his eyelids, and all he wanted to do was scream. "She lost so much weight," he muttered against her stomach.

      "She was holding a cat," he added uselessly with unexplained sorrow, "she was holding a bloody cat— a black, grey-eyed snarky cat and honestly it kind of looked like me— like a monster from hell; Walburga fucking Black, spending her time with a fucking cat because she can't— she doesn't have anyone."

      Sirius truly believed he did not fear his mother, and the occasional slaps he'd receive over the head or those twists of wrists when he pissed her off enough. He preferred them over his father's punishments that included not being allowed food for a day or two— or worse when he would force a young Sirius to sit at the dinner table whilst everybody was eating blissfully. Regulus would sneak cookies into his pockets and bring them to Sirius' room afterwards.

      It all started as some mental, psychological torture for him. Then came hexes and curses.

"And she looked so old and skeleton-like," his voice shook, the tears somehow fell through his closed eyes and he huddled towards her even more. "But I still think she's very pretty."

      The women of House Black have always been impossibly beautiful, Scarlet knows it. She also acknowledges that even after all this time and all that happened, Sirius still loves his mother.

      She only let him talk, her fingers soothing his scalp. Sirius did not need any sort of comforting words because her presence alone made him feel better— as the minutes passed, the heavy feeling in his chest got less crushing, the knot in his throat dissolved. He's emotionally exhausted, drained, and now that he feels safe and loved, he's starting to doze off into sweet oblivion. 

"What did you want to tell me?" He asks, muttering in a sleepy manner.

Scarlet wanted him to be comforted, so reassuringly bathing her fingers in his silky hair, she smiled down and kissed his head, "I'll tell you tomorrow, love." 

𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺

this was all so confusing and such a 
terrible chapter in general, so feel free
to ask questions.

I'll come back and edit it, seriously ik
it was bad =(

also, I'm aware many of you guys might
not like what I did with sirius/walburga's
relationship, but this is how I perceived it,
there's a lot of complexity to them instead
of burning hatred in my opinion. (you bet 
I'll expand on this in the golden trio era fic
too x)