SILENT [1] || HARRY POTTER ⚡️

seventeen ; death eater

a/n: okay, this is a real quick one. publish december 3, 2016.

Somewhere around twelve at midnight, Darcy was put under the cloak of invisibility with Harry. She was still a little uneasy about sneaking into Gryffindor's tower at such a late hour. That, and Harry was undeniably close to her under the cloak. Though, her excitrement to see Sirius was convincing enough to let her break the rules.

"We've got a few minutes," mumbled Harry as they both walked up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. "Hermione did say that she would keep you in her dorm, right?"

Nodding, Darcy glanced away. She noticed that there was a lot of paintings nearby. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from walking. He pulls himself out from underneath the cloak and leads her all the way to a picture of a fat lady who was trying very hard to not fall asleep.

"Balderdash!" Harry said for at least the third time. The Fat Lady had not answered and were delaying them to get into the common rooms.

Though, she did not open her eyes when the portrait door opened. Harry had lead Darcy through the hole, and inside was a very warm room. It was cozier than Slytherins, and much more bright. The door closed behind them, and Darcy took the cloak off. 

"Here," Harry said quickly, pulling her to the chair nearest to a fireplace. Darcy and he took their seats, waiting and glancing around the place. She rather liked the place, with its red and orange tones.  Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read POTTER REALLY STINKS.

She wrinkled her nose at the badges, feeling slightly guilty that Harry had to deal with the torment he received on her house. Darcy looked back to where Harry was, but squealed.

Sirius's head was sitting in the fire. Harry and she both broke out into smiles, though it seemed that Harry's was more worn. They inched closer, out of their chairs, and crouched down by the cackling fire.

"Sirius— how are you doing?" Harry asked at the same time Darcy said, "Where've you been? Philly hasn't been in Muggle Studies for ages."

Sirius looked different from when Darcy last saw him. Darcy actually never had a proper good-bye to him in third year, then Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair — but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger.

To Harry, he looked a lot like the photographs of the Potter's wedding. He was much older than those of Ophelia, James and Sirius.

"Never mind me, how are you both?" said Sirius seriously.

Darcy had commented she was doing just well, with the acception of being a little lonely from time to time. Though, she cut her time short, since it was Harry who had the worst luck of them all at the moment.

"I'm —" Harry paused a while. Then, he  could not stop himself, he was talking more than he'd talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron's jealousy . . .

Darcy's lip began to quiver at each word. This boy, who was so kind to look past the fact she was Slytherin, had taken the time to speak to her. Harry, whom endured a lot as she heard, only wanted a normal life. She couldn't agree any more, and so she placed an encouraging hand over his.

". . . and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately.

Sirius had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute — I haven't got long here . . . I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about."