Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

14 January, 1978 - Midnight Part 2

It wasn't long after they laid down on the rock that Sirius stopped watching the stars. They didn't interest him much, and they certainly didn't enthrall him the way they seemed to do with Lavinia. So he watched her instead, watched her face as it held perfectly still, her eyes flicking across the sky as though connecting the dots between galaxies. It used to baffle him slightly, the way she could sit and stare at the sky for hours on end. He had never been able to do that. He needed something to do with hands, some movement to keep himself occupied. But what she'd said as they'd left the house had struck a chord in him. Do you ever want to run and never look back?

He'd been honest in his answer, but his head had been elsewhere, suddenly understanding why she could contemplate the horizon all night long. Why she'd stared off into the distance that night on the Astronomy tower. Because she hadn't really wanted to die that night. She'd been utterly hopeless and had seen no other option, but death wasn't her goal. No, the more he thought about it the more convinced he became that what she'd really wanted from that night was to escape. To run and never look back.

But she hadn't. She'd climbed down from the tower and gotten on the train and walked calmly and quietly to a hell she had to know was waiting for her. He'd kept thinking about that. About how of all the emotions she'd expressed about her mother's abuses and about the night she'd left them behind, she hadn't once sounded anything even close to surprised. It killed him to know that. Killed him to think how bad her home life had to have been that bruises and cuts like the ones she'd shown up with that night didn't shock her. Even Sirius had been surprised when Walburga had turned her wand on him, but Lavinia... Lavinia had somehow reconciled her mother wielding a knife against her with no trace of the disgust, rage or shock she should have felt. He hated to think how she had possibly gotten so detached from it all that she'd weathered it all without seeming to feel a thing.

He sighed now, wishing he had talked to her sooner. He knew he should have brought her here - or somewhere, anyway - long before this last day of break. He should have talked to her more, should have given her a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on and someone to remind her that the life she had come from was wrong beyond measure. He should have reminded her that it was good to feel rage, good to scream and cry and break down instead of shoving it all down inside so it ate her from the inside out. He should have been there for her more.

But he hadn't been.

He hated himself for it, but he'd been selfish, though, he supposed, reasonably so. The sight of her face that night had sent him tumbling backwards into memories of his own abuse. And then Regulus had showed up and looked him dead in the eyes and reminded him what he'd cost his little brother and the guilt had cascaded back in. He knew they were excuses, but knew also that James at least, thought they were more than valid. Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling that he should have helped her more.

Because there had been the howler. And the locked door. And then today in her case... She might have managed to leave her family, but Sirius was becoming increasingly convinced that they hadn't been even close to the only thing that brought her to the edge of that tower.

"So what happens now?" Sirius asked suddenly, breaking the silence more because he needed to stop his own thoughts before they made him do something stupid. "When we go back to school," he clarified when she shot him a curious glance.

Her mouth formed a little 'oh' and she turned back to the sky. "I don't know," she admitted, one finger tapping on the back of her other hand as it rested over her abdomen. "I guess it all goes back to the way it was."

Sirius felt his stomach clench slightly, both at the sentiment and the quiet resignation in her tone. "You're not really going to go back home are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as he wished he could berate her for the ridiculous idea. And himself, for not reinforcing, every chance he got, that she was in a better place now. That she'd come from hell and this might not be heaven, but at least it wasn't actively burning.