The Godmother

13. falling

ELIZABETH RETUNED TO THE CASTLE THAT MORNING AND CONTINUED LESSONS THE SAME DAY.

But there was something left behind in Sirius' tent. Her heart was heavy and it obliterated her work. Trying to teach while pretending there was nothing wrong was like covering a bullet wound with a band-aid.

Without Sirius, there was nothing.

It was different now. She'd only spent an hour or two every few days a week with him before. She was used to swallowing her sadness and proceeding with the day, knowing that seeing Sirius was only around the corner. But being with him for two weeks had left a giant stone in her chest- her heart.

It weighed her down when she woke up in the morning and forced her through the day. It felt like she was carrying a 10-tonne brick on her back.

She visited Sirius during the first weekend after the holidays and had tea with him. She visited him the continuing Wednesday and the Saturday after that. Every time she left, it felt like a part of her was still inside of the wretched tent.

She hated the tent. She hated hiding Sirius. She hated everything about it, and yet, there was nothing she could do.

Elizabeth and Remus decided not to file for Sirius' case reopening. The risks were too heavy and needing Peter himself to confess in order to convince the jury was something that Elizabeth was not willing to do. She would kill him before he got the chance to grovel. To even beg.

In the weeks following the Christmas holidays, Elizabeth found a shadow following her tail wherever she went. The constant feeling of drowning in a desert swarmed her senses, overtaking everything.

She didn't want it to be like last time- but it was too similar.

Elizabeth went from barely sleeping, to sleeping with Sirius, and then suddenly not being able to wake up. Between teaching and marking, Elizabeth was resting. She'd drowse her eyes with a cup of coffee from the staffroom in her hands while she sat under the tree they used to hang out underneath when they were younger.

Her bones were tired. Her eyes were tired. Her soul was tired. Tired of lying and repeating the same old lies she committed every day. "I do not know where Sirius Black is". She confiscated a book from Percy Weasley, 'Sirius Black, The Murderer'. She read it. It was all lies: Regulus was alive, Walburga was a horrible person, Sirius was not the traitor of the Potters.

The book said opposite. Elizabeth burned it.

Her alias was being blown by the shadow that creeped behind her shoulder. Her eyes were probably the worst. Once bursting with opportunity- meeting Harry, finding Sirius and returning back to Hogwarts- they looked dead. Her soul had caved. She'd become a shell.

Lessons became duller and unenthusiastic. Students whinged. Elizabeth did her best to keep teaching despite the backlash. There was less practical work being done and more writing essays to hand in so that Elizabeth could procrastinate and revolt over marking them.

January flew by in a flash and February was upon them.

The night of Sirius' break into the castle had finally calmed down as Dumbledore agreed to let Gryffindor play in the next Quidditch game against Hufflepuff.

The game was on a Saturday at 1pm to Elizabeth's relief. She knew she'd be able to get up by lunch time and make her way to the Quidditch pitch to watch Harry play.

The students all talked excitedly about the game for the two weeks leading up to it. The headliner was that because Potter hadn't had enough practise because the team weren't allowed to leave the castle, that Gryffindor were due to lose. Elizabeth had seen the practise chart. Gryffindor had scheduled in practises everyday. She only hoped that Harry was as good as his father.