Chapter XXXII: I Left My Memories Behind

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I left my memories behind
in search of freedom,
but they still follow me
as I walk towards the future.
Dark thoughts
of a different life,
where dreams
spend their days in a cage
and love
is nothing but pain.
—CHRISTY ANN MARTINE

• — • — •

13 Years Prior-

"Cai," Aeliana tugged the sleeve of her brother's golden robes with unrestrained impatience. "Caius!"

Sighing exaggeratedly, her looked down at her, a defeated expression falling across his face. "Yes, my little slavedriver?"

"Who's that?" Tentatively, Lia poked her head around my brother, behind whom she had been hiding, and pointed a small finger at a formidable looking woman disciplining her two sons in the distance. The older of the two kept sending his mother irritated glares as she maintained a vice-like grip on his thin arm.

"Oh, that's Walburga Black and her sons." He smiled, adding, "Would you like to go meet them?"

"No way!" she balked, loud enough for them to hear across the expansive lawn. The older of the boys tore his eyes from his mother, zeroing in on her. She ducked behind her brothers robes once more. "Make them go away, Cai. They look mean."

"Lia, I can't make them go away. They're guests," he explained evenly, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "Look, I think that one wants to meet you."

Lia looked up, startled, to see the older boy storming in their direction with a look of raw intent on his face. A bolt of fear shot down her spine and into her toes.

"Pick me up," she demanded, pulling frantically at his robes.

"What? No way! You have two perfectly good feet, little slavedriver."

"Come on! Pleeease?"

She did her best to look utterly defeated until he finally, grudgingly acquiesced. Safely on her brother's shoulders, Lia felt much braver and glared at the approaching figure, back ramrod straight, with all the dignity she could muster.

The boy slowed to a halt, looking up at her, unimpressed. "You don't look very brave, for a Gryffindor."

The audacity!

"That's a rude thing to say, especially for a- a... er..." she racked my her for a fitting insult, finally settling on, "for a smelly old troll!"

"Lia..." Caius warned, angling his head so he could give me the look. "Be nice. He's a guest, remember?" Caius crouched down on his knees, eye level with the insolent intruder, and held out one hand, while the other gripped Lia's leg tight to prevent her from falling. "I'm Caius. Pleasure to meet you."

"It really isn't," Lia grumbled under her breath.

"Lia..." Caius drew out her name, trying to reign her in by force of will.

She huffed. "Fine, I'm Aeliana, and it's your pleasure to meet me."

"That's enough of that," Caius scolded, pulling her, indignant, from his shoulders. He gave her a pointed look. "You two play nice. I have to go assist Father."

"Wait, don't go!" she whined, but he just waved, jogging off at a pace her much smaller legs couldn't hope to match. Gulping, Lia turned back to the rude dark haired boy.

"Do you always hide behind your brother?" he taunted. "You Gryffindors aren't all you're cracked up to be."

"What did you just say?" she demanded, stomping a foot in frustration.

"Apparently you're not that smart either." The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "I said that you Gryffindors aren't all you're cracked up to be."

Just like that, Caius's many warning flew out the window.

"I am going to destroy you!" Her four foot nothing self threatened, with quite a lot of menace for a young witch without a wand.

With the element of surprise still on her side, she leapt, like a bobcat prancing upon its prey. Her golden hair was far longer than was practical for a physical altercation, but, then again, so was his. They rolled and rolled, pulling and tugging, each attempting to establish dominance over the other, but neither able to maintain it for long.

"What are you?" the boy growled, in between haggard breaths. "A wolverine?"

He flipped Lia over so that he was on top, holding down her bucking shoulders with his hands and her squirming arms with his ankles.

"No," she hissed, fighting to free her captive hands. "I am a Gryffindor! I'll show you what we're cracked up to be!"

She didn't mean to do it. It just happened. One second he was pinning her down, and the next he was tossed through the air, landing heavily a few yards away. Immediately, Lia felt drained, like she'd been forced to run for hours from an angry hippogriff. The mere thought of moving sent shudders of refusal down her spine, but she strained my neck to look for the boy.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry," she fretted, feeling tears building up behind her eyelids, despite her earlier angst. She didn't mean to hurt him. Well, actually, she did, but only a little. She hadn't meant to throw him. "I lost control of my magic again. Father will be so furious when he finds out..."

For a moment, Lia heard nothing, not even the rustling of the grass, and her stomach dropped. Had she accidentally killed him?

Father was gonna end her when he found out.

"No worries," groaned a voice after a time. "I won't tell."

"You won't?" she asked, not daring to sound too hopeful.

"No, but you have to let me come here whenever I want," he bargained, chest still heaving. He twisted his head so their eyes could meet. "I don't like my house. I think I'll like it here a lot more."

Lia considered his proposal for a moment, wrinkling her nose. Father would be upset if he'd learned that she lost control of her magic again. Her magic was like a faucet she couldn't turn off, so she was always losing control. She hated the thought of seeing more disappointment in his eyes when he looked at her, the Gryffindor failure, so Lia agreed.

"Fine, but you can't be mean about Gryffindors anymore," she bargained.

"Deal! I'm Sirius." Rolling onto his side, he held out his hand. "Sirius Black."

"I still don't like you," she grumbled, likewise rolling over to shake his hand. "But deal."

"I don't like you, either," he agreed, matter-of-factly.

Thinking back on the day Aeliana first met Sirius brought a slew of bittersweet emotions. She couldn't help but focus on that first lie. The first "I don't like you." The first of many lies to come, and the hardest to uphold.

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