Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

5 August, 1995 - Library

Lavinia returned to the Black house in the wee hours with her arms full of books and her head now full of both worry and a whole load of legal nonsense she wasn't entirely sure she'd actually absorbed. If she was honest, the only reason she was here was because she suspected that Dumbledore would turn up in the morning to explain things and make plans and she didn't want to risk missing it. Of course, she knew she might already have missed some of that, but seeing as how plenty of other people would also need to be filled in... well. For now at least, this was the place to be.

And besides, she'd needed out. She'd needed open air if only for a little while. And she'd needed something other than the static that had been filling her head from the moment she'd read that obnoxiously uninformative note from Dumbledore.

Shaking herself slightly, Lavinia sighed as she looked up at the long flight of stairs. She wasn't entirely sure where she planned to go if she was honest. Sleep seemed likely to be elusive and she didn't want to be left to her thoughts. Under different circumstances, she would undoubtedly have sought out Sirius but... well. For all that she'd been so sure, so ready mere hours ago that she wanted to try, that she wanted to hold on and get through and be... something with him, right now.... She wasn't an idiot. She'd seen the way he'd looked at her. The way they'd all looked at her. Like she was dirty. Vile. Like she was cold and uncaring. Like they couldn't believe anyone could be so very inhuman.

In truth, the words had come out of Lavinia's mouth before she had time to stop them, to think about them. And that almost made it worse. Because she knew she'd spoken the truth. She didn't care if Harry resented being told to stay put. If it kept him alive, then it was worth it.

But she wasn't at all sure it had come out that way. Because the way Sirius had stared at her, the way Molly had stared at her... she couldn't help but think that it might have come out like she didn't care about him. Or at least, didn't care about his happiness. And the truth was that she did care about both. But she cared about his life more. Because she knew that on the other side of this chapter of his life was something better, something happier. And death was an ending, pure and simple. So she would choose his life every time because she really, truly believed that one day, he would find happiness. He just had to stay alive to do so and Lavinia... Lavinia would work for that. She would choose that. Every time. Not his happiness if it meant risk. But his life. Even if it risked some unhappiness.

Which, she realized, perhaps meant that at least in the short term, she didn't care about his happiness. Because she couldn't afford to. Because if she started caring too much then it all fell apart. She fell apart. Every choice she had ever made to keep him alive fell apart and it meant it had all been for nothing. Short term, letting herself care too much made it damn near impossible to make the choices she knew she had to make. Choices that were necessary. Choices that hurt. And if she cared too much, if she left herself care the way Sirius and Molly did, the way they wanted her to... Well then Harry might well have died by now.

So short term, she didn't care. She couldn't care. She would not let herself care.

But long term... long term she cared very much. She wanted him to find happiness. Or perhaps more accurately, she wanted him to have a life. To have a normal life. A shot at all the things that had so nearly been stolen from her. The things that had been stolen from his parents. And for that to happen, he had to make it through these darker times. Through times that were far from normal. He had to hold on and hold tight and then... then he could have happy. He could have peace. And that was what Lavinia worked for. For his future. For his life.

Sighing again, Lavinia forced her feet to start moving up the stairs even as she forced those thoughts out of her head, pushing back at the guilt curling and collecting in her stomach. She'd go to the study, she supposed. There, at least, she would have a place to lay out these ridiculously heavy books and try to distract herself. Because she was reasonably confident that Dumbledore would have been able to stall the Ministry long enough to force a hearing instead of an immediate rest, which was protocol anyway, from what she had read, and she was also reasonably certain that Dumbledore wouldn't have let Harry leave his Aunt and Uncle's, but the rest of it... What if they were being awful to him because of it? What if the Ministry denied the dementors' presence? What if Harry lost his case at the hearing? What if the Ministry took his wand? What if what if what if.