10. FEAR

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| CHAPTER TEN |

FEAR.


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IT WAS A USUAL NIGHT for Sirius. Instead of going to sleep, he stayed sitting at the head of the dining room table. His chair was turned to face the lit fireplace with a black coffee half drunk in his mug. It seemed that he was staying up most nights now, ever since Kingsley got Echo working the nightshift to protect The Prophecy. But there was something different about that night. There was a sick feeling in the pit of Sirius' stomach and he couldn't help his nerves, no matter how hard he tried.

Of course, he always worried for Echo, but he knew she was a strong woman who could overcome everything, but with Voldemort on the rise and Echo being part of The Order, fear seemed to always be on the tip of Sirius' brain.  

The coffee was getting colder by the second, he could feel it under his fingertips, but he didn't bother warming it up and he didn't bother to put the mug back down. His fingers would squeeze it tighter and for a while, that seemed to bring some relief for his nerves, but the more he did it, the less relieve he felt.

It was clear to everyone about how much Sirius cared for the half-American witch. And there was no doubt that she cared for him too. So, part of him hoped that the fear in his veins was just that. That it was just worry for someone he cared for. But the nagging voice in the back of his head kept telling him otherwise. 

When Sirius finally snapped his eyes away from the burning fire in front of him, he glanced down at his wrist watch. It was already half past three in the morning, just an hour and a half before Echo would be back home. Just an hour and a half before Sirius could finally start to relax.

His leg began to bounce suddenly and it took him far too long to notice, and after nothing seemed to be able to calm it down, the black haired man slammed his coffee mug onto the table and jumped out of his seat. He could feel his heart hammering violently against his chest as he began to pace. Running his hands through his freshly cut, yet still extremely messy locks, he couldn't help himself as he began to mutter under his breath, "She's okay. Stop being such a drama queen," He would tell himself, yet, he couldn't seem to believe the words that spewed from his mouth. But he didn't know why. Especially since Echo was always okay when she was at work, sure, she would come back exhausted most days, but she was always okay.

Sirius kept pacing for Merlin knows much longer. The only time he stopped was when a singular Phoenix feather suddenly began to float just above the middle of the dining table. It felt as if time stood still as more fear rushed through his veins. Why in Merlin's name was there a Phoenix message so late at night? Surely it couldn't be anything good, could it?

Sirius finally felt his legs moving and before the feather could fall down onto the table, Sirius caught it. There was an envelope with his name attached to it and he could feel his breath wavering. With shaky fingers, Sirius tore it open, his grey eyes wildly scanning the words written to him by Dumbledore. He felt his head spinning as fresh tears suddenly swarmed his eyes, "No," He muttered to himself as he fell to his knees, "No!"

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