Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Seventy Nine: She's Mental!

I am neither a devil nor an angel but merely the object of my ambitions instead.

Dawn came through the murky waters the next morning. Slytherins had survived the night, yet day would test them further.

When Dorcus Meadows woke up, Freya Grey was straightening out her shirt. Her hair was pin flat down her back, and she wore the little necklace with a dainty triangle at the center. Sunday often led most students to walk around in their pajamas or jeans if they were off to Hogsmeade(though Dorcus knew that they were forbidden from that for now), but Freya dressed in a fine black sweater crafted for her body and a dark green skirt to match. She was dressed for battle. Her eyes were lined with kohl, and the touch of rose at her lips was her war paint.

Deatheater slut.

Dorcus watched her room mate closely and caught her eyes through the mirror. She offered a gentle smile, and Freya only made a soft chin bow in acknowledgment.

"Are you going to breakfast this morning?" The bronze-skinned witch got off her bed and stretched her bones.

Freya nodded, then her fingers stopped smoothing her top. "Would you like to join Regulus and me?"

Slowly, Dorcus stopped her stretching. She had not sat with the Slytherins for breakfast since her first year. Aside from the first feast of the year and meetings, she kept away from the house; however, Dorcus knew with every tear shed from a child, the house was not the problem. "Can Philly join?"

***

Winter air filled the fifth floor's corridor, and a young woman sat on one of the stone benches with her ankles crossed. A boy pressed his lips to her cheek and then pulled away. Once he was a fair bit down the corridor, the blonde girl lifted a brow. "No one likes snoopy little girls." Freya Grey came out from her spot behind a thick pillar. Narcissa Black scanned over her, then beckoned her over with a finger. Cautiously, the thin girl approached. As soon as she was an arm's length away, Narcissa grabbed her tie. "My mother would have slapped me for disrespecting a tie like that." With delicate, calculated fingers, Narcissa undid Freya's tie and started to re-tie it. Occasionally, she would glance at Freya and watch her expressions melt silently from one another until it landed on tentative curiosity. Amusement quirked Narcissa's lip. "Freya, was it?"

"Yes," Freya answered to the floor.

Lightly, Narcissa tilted Freya's chin and forced her eyes to hers. "You think your father would have taught you to look people in their eyes more."

"My father is dead," Freya replied primly, and Narcissa knew better than to react.

"And your mother?" The blonde witch kept her tone clean and clear. Emotions were an illness according to her family, yet Narcissa was overflowing with them constantly. When Freya did not answer, Narcissa started to fit together the pieces of the little girl in front of her. She finished the tie and saw how it rested on the shirt far too big for the bones it was draped over. A child. "Come with me." Shoulders straight, Narcissa turned her heel and did not wait for Freya to follow. To her surprise, Freya's gait was quiet, like a mouse scurrying beside her.

They went to the courtyard, where Narcissa would later sneak Freya into Hogsmeade. As they crossed paths with some boys, Freya curled into herself. The loud laughing boys jeering at one another starkly contrasted the curly-haired witch's fear. Instinctively, Freya scrunched her tie to make it less visible while they passed, and Narcissa felt a pang of remorse. Narcissa slowed to a halt and then turned to Freya. Her hand smoothed over the tie again. 

Resetting her shoulders, Narcissa made a show of raising her chin and fixing her posture. "A lady may show humility, submissiveness, but fear is a fool's game. Keep your chin up when you walk."