Chapter VII: The Diplomat

3.3K 98 8
                                    

• — • — •

A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.
-MARK TWAIN

• — • — •

Aeliana jolted awake, startled, from a timid knock on the library door. In all honesty, she hadn't even realised she fell asleep, but based on the time, knew she hadn't slept very long. Her mind ran a mile a minute these days, so whenever she shut her eyes, her imagination ran wild, picturing her brother's last moments, fighting alone against Voldemort and a dozen Death Eaters, or her father's, watching his family die knowing he could do nothing to save them.

Other times, she dreamed of Death Eaters no doubt waiting for her to let her guard down and leave the safety of her house. She dreamt of what they would do to her, as well as the attack they had already attempted to carry out.

In the good dreams, she saw herself killing every last one of them, her subconscious bringing to life her darkest wish. She wasn't proud of the satisfaction her dream-self gained from murdering her family's butchers, but the twisted joy she found was still there, regardless of whether she liked it or not.

A Gryffindor shouldn't have these dark thoughts, she often told myself. They were supposed to be above it all, good, noble, and brave. A decent person's deepest desire wouldn't be a massacre. Was she not a good person anymore? Did she even care if she wasn't?

She leapt to her feet at the sound of another round of hesitant knocks, grabbing the empty bottles littering the floor nearby and tossing them swiftly into empty drawers. She looked around for any strays before sinking back into her seat.

Assuming any Death Eater who finally managed to break into her house wouldn't have the courtesy to knock, Lia cleared her throat before responding, "Come in."

As apprehensive as a man being sent to feed a hungry dragon, Remus poked his head inside the room with a tentative smile in place.

"Wow, you look... err..."

"Like shit?" Lia suggested, lips curving up slightly at the corners from his meagre attempt at being polite. The motion felt foreign. She couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled.

Remus laughed lightly, shaking his head as he pushed his way into the room, dropping a few bags on the table next to her books.

"I come bearing gifts."

"What's the occasion?" she asked, quizzically, glancing curiously at the brightly coloured sacks.

At that, Remus paused from unloading the multi coloured contents of his bags, staring at me from under furrowed brows.

"Lia..." he started, slowly. "Did you forget it's your birthday?"

"No way, it's only..." she looked around for the date, frowning. Actually, she hadn't the faintest idea what day it was. "Is it really already the 27th?"

Remus nodded. "Pretty sure."

"Wow..." she trailed off, thoughtfully.

"James wanted to come with, but... well... Sirius," he tried to explain, looking awkward. "He felt like it would be a betrayal, because of whatever is going on between you two."

The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)Where stories live. Discover now