Mortem . Sirius Black

chapter eighty-two

December 17th - Shrieking Shack

It was the night of the full moon, and four out of the five marauders were anxiously waiting at the courtyard for Poppy to bring Remus out to the Whomping Willow.

Nephera had a horrible feeling for that night, although she didn't know why. Alarm bells were going off inside her head for no apparent reason, and she found her eyes constantly darting across the courtyard for any sort of danger.

There was also the fact that there had been no assassination attempts for quite some while, letting a sort of eery and fragile peace envelop the school.

"Everything alright Nephie?" asked James

The four boys had learned to trust Nephera's gut feelings, and so whenever they saw her uneasy, they tensed almost on reflex and started looking around as well.

"It's quiet tonight, isn't it?" she asked

"It's always quiet during the night," answered Peter, "I'm sure it's nothing, Mortem,"

The girl only hummed in response, still unconvinced about the whole thing. Sirius, who was smoking a cigarette next to her took note of this and extended his hand, letting her take a drag as well. He had become very familiar with Nephera's mannerisms, and so he knew that whenever she got into such a mood there was little that could talk her out of it.

Despite Peter's assurance, the four of them were a lot more alert, sweeping their eyes across the courtyard as they waited for the mediwtich and their fifth friend.

Nephera had a good reason to be worried, since down in the Slytherin dorms, Avery, Mulciber, and Lestrange had broken into Mulciber's alcohol stash and had gotten drunk out of their minds.

"Did you see Winchester today?" slurred Mulciber, "With Black? Admit it Lopheus, you're jealous,"

Lestrange downed the rest of the firewhiskey in his cup, before answering, "I wasn't jealous, it's better that we're not married anyway, wouldn't want a known bloodtraitor as a wife,"

Avery laughed loudly at his friends' obvious denial. Growing up with Lestrange meant that the Avery boy had been subjected to his best friends' long rants about Nephera for years, even before they started Hogwarts, "Sure, mate, whatever helps you sleep at night. Can't blame you, honestly, she's a bloody sight, that woman,"

"Don't let you-know-who hear you say this," grumbled Mulciber, "We have a deadline, and it's slowly growing near,"

The grave reminder prompted the three boys to drink some more, this time not bothering with pouring out the alcohol but rather drinking straight from the bottles they were each holding.

"Kill her before graduation," scoffed Lestrange drunkenly, "As though she's just any ruddy person. That woman has nine lives, I swear,"

Mulciber replied something, but it missed Avery's ears. The blonde boy was lost deep in thought, although the alcohol in his system was making it hard to draw simple conclusions. By that point, the boy really couldn't see any other option, if poison and curses had failed, they'd have to use the killing curse.

"We have do it," he took in a deep breath, "We'll have to use the curse,"

They all had more than one reason to want the brunette dead. She had sent Avery's father to Azkaban, tarnishing his family's reputation, she had killed Mulciber's father, and she had sent those letters at Lestrange's father last Christmas, leading to the boy almost being disowned.

On top of that, she had embarassed them more times than they could count around the school. Most students feared them, if not all, with the exception of five people, the marauders, and herself. That had always been the case, ever since the very first year, and the group of junior Death Eaters could never quite let that go.