Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Seventy: You Promised.

There's this notion that cause and effect are neat arrows drawn to one another. A clean pull of the trigger that directly leads to the bullet. One thing leads to another for the perfect reason. The trigger is pulled. The firing pin hits the chemicals. Gunpowder. Explosion. Bullet. However, that takes the messy out of it, takes the human out of it.

To encapsulate a person's actions into clean arrows would be to ignore all the billion little things that drew up those arrows and every choice leading up to the effect. The action, if you will.

And the action could be as small as changing your toe polish or as big as firing a bullet.

Consequences were another beast entirely that could range from wasting time and nail polish on a bad color or ripping through someone's armor. Either way, there was no mistake about it; actions have consequences.

Everything sowed gets reaped by somebody.

Whether they were villains or victims was a blurred line that changed where ever you stood.

***

"Do you like Barty?" Severus Snape's question fell out of the blue and into Freya Grey's ears as she combed through one of his notebooks. Classes were over for the day for them, and they decided to finally spend some time together in his dorm. His hands were wrapped around his knees as he watched her. Her curly hair was straightened; Sev had noticed that she tended to do that after she hung out with Barty Crouch Jr. He was noticing a lot of things.

Her finger ran over his notes. "I think he's pleasant."

Pleasant. Pleasant was good, wasn't it? It was nothing to swoon over, but Freya was not the swooning type. She was logical; she was like him. Yet, even Sev's heartbeat for someone. Freya was bound to be the same, though he doubted that it was Regulus Black as most people claimed. The person after that that was often paired in discussions about Freya's love was Barty. Merlin, it was part of the selling point for her becoming a Death Eater.

Swallowing, Sev awkwardly tapped his thumbs knees. "I meant... romantically."

"Why?"

Dark eyes flicked up to Sev's, and he felt all his planning to have a casual conversation fall out the window. Instead, he dropped his attention to the silk-green sheets he had. "We don't talk as often."

At that, Freya tensed. "I've been busy."

"I know." Sev tried to hide the bitterness from his voice. Sure, it was not all the Marauder's fault, but they tore chunks out of her time like it was nothing, and for what? The greasy-haired boy inspected Freya, she looked fine, but something was off. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I slept last night." She answered.

"For how long?" He pressed, and she did not answer. She did not need to. Between end-of-term assignments, transcriptions, experimental projects, and wolfsbane, the girl's sleep schedule was torn to pieces. It wasn't fair. They worked twice as hard as everyone else just to get to the starting line. "Lily's invited us to the beach." Sev played with a stray thread on his pants. "You should go." Her chin dropped to her chest, and he added. "With Regulus." For every year of their friendship, Lily had invited them to the beach, and each year, Freya had refused. The silence of her usual no filled the air. "You'd make Lily's sister more bearable." A smile played on his lips, and she had a hint of curl on hers.

"Reg's parents would never let him," Freya said, but Sev still looked at her with pleading eyes. "I'll consider it." Excitement filled him, and her gaze was firm yet caring as she moved a strand of hair from his face. "I cleared out my father's study last summer." She lifted her chin and straightened her back the proper way she was taught to do. "If you want a change of scenery, there's a guest bed."