✔️ 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄 → 𝑠. 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘

04 | R O U T I N E

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"A prophecy?", Margo asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"A prophecy", Mad-Eye Moody echoed her words as an answer. "In the department of mystery. A prophecy about Potter. No one has ever heard it fully, and most important: You-Know-Who doesn't know what it's saying, but he's well aware of his existence, and he wants nothing more than to hold it in his ugly pale fingers."

"So we're patroling the entrance at night", Remus added, his folded hands laying on the table plate. "The ones working for the Ministry have an eye on it during daytime as well. But we don't think Voldemort would walk into the Ministry on a bright summer day and try to steal it."

"Sounds fun", Margo snorted. "What's my task?"

"Clean the house", Moody dryly replied.

"Excuse me?"

"Sirius, Molly and the kids need a lot of help to get all those dangerous stuff out of the corners, cupboards and drawers", Remus explained with a light smile. "Don't look like that, there'll come a day where you can do more, but right now Dumbledore thinks it's better for you to stay out of your father's reach."

"Why?", Margo plainly asked, her eyes wandering from Sirius, to Remus, to Moody. None of them.was looking back at her, and it didn't dawn slowly, but the realisation dropped like a bomb. "He doesn't trust me!", she gasped, her amber eyes growing even wider than they already used to be. "You don't trust me!"

"Don't be stupid, Margo", Sirius replied in a soothing voice. "If none of us would trust you, you wouldn't be here, and we wouldn't tell you about all this stuff."

"But?"

"But what?" Sirius eyebrow raised up his wrinkled forehead.

"Well, this sounded like there was a but about to follow", Margo retorted, crossing her arms.

"You're the minister's daughter", Remus spoke the obvious. "Family is family, even after all that happened. He isn't happy about your choice, but that you probably already knew. If you show up in the Ministry, he'll do everything to win you back. And there's Percy Weasley."

"Percy Weasley doesn't mean a damn to me anymore", Margo quickly lied. It wasn't nothing but a lie. Her feelings for Percy were fading more and more with every passing day, but still she missed the imagination she once had of their relationship. "Do you really think I'll will run straight back into his arms the moment he'll cross my way? I made a decision. As he did. I know I'm doing the right thing here, I know my father is all wrong in his opinion. There isn't a thing he can say to teach me different."

"There will come a day you can prove the truth of your words, Margo", Sirius said, his hand jerking forward as if he was about to take hers, but decided against it a second later, so he placed it back on the table plate. "We do trust you. But for now we need you here. There are Doxys and Boggarts and biting mugs we need to get rid off, and I couldn't imagine anyone doing a better job than you in silencing this old screaming hag in the hallway."

"Your time will come", Remus added, and Margo cracked a small smile, even though the lack of Dumbledore's trust in her was cutting deep.

So Margo did what she could to help, getting bitten and poisoned, and insulted by Kreacher the old house elf, screamed at by Mrs Black, and the days passed in a hush, but everyday was an awful boring routine, and in the evenings she felt more exhausted than she should be. Nevertheless, sleep didn't find her as it usually did after she wrote into her special diary, so often she found herself roaming the empty corridors far past midnight. And that night she didn't seem to be the only one who couldn't fall asleep. When she entered the kitchen, dim light was glimming, revealing a silhouette sitting by the table, a bottle of stout in his hand. In front of him a lonely candle was enlightening the Daily Prophet.

When Margo entered, Sirius Black threw a crooked smile at her, lifting his bottle.

"A thing I always loved about muggles", he chugged, placing it against his lips, taking a long sip. "Shouldn't you be in bed", he asked after placing the bottle back on the table.

"Could ask you the same", she scoffed, sitting down across from Sirius. She stretched her hand out for the bottle, but Sirius pulled it back.

"You're a bit too young for drinking, don't you think?", he laughed, his steal grey eyes glimming in the light of the candle.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Really? I guess I'm at least five years older than you were when you had your first taste of Firewhiskey."

"How old are you again?"

"Twenty", she snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks for the reminder", Sirius muttered, handing her the bottle. "Touché", he then said louder and clearer, as if he hadn't muttered anything at all, and Margo's eyebrow raised a bit higher, before she took a sip.

"Good stuff", she said, shoving it back into his hands. "So how about you tell me why you're sitting down here in the middle of the night sipping muggle beer?"

"How about you start with your story?", Sirius joylessly chugged. "I'll consider telling you mine afterwards."

Margo pouted her lips, eyeing the man in front of her curious. But then she gave a little shrug. "I feel a bit trapped in here, you know? I was so overly excited when I joined the Order. I thought I could do something useful at least, but I'm ending up as the cleansing fairy."

Sirius started laughing, throwing his head into his neck. "We're ridiculously similar, you know that, Margo?" But soon his laughter silenced, and his smile faded. This time he reached out for her hand, was it the stout or the fact that they were alone. "I know this feeling. Being trapped. Things will changes, sooner for you, while it'll take a little longer for me. But we'll finally fight."

He let go of her hand, leaving her skin tingling and cold without his touch, as he got up and headed for the door.

"You're a curious little thing, you know that?", he said and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Looking at you, you could think anything it needs to know about you is plain obvious. Little innocent girl, easy to break, not a big threat, huh?" He chuckled. "Gladly we know better." He opened the door and threw her a last gaze. "Go to bed, Margo, there's a long, boring day waiting for the both of us tomorrow."

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