Isabella Black sat in her dark room in #12 Grimmauld Place, the candles had long since burned out, the glow from the moonlight filtering into the room making the tears glisten on her cheeks. She rubbed her temples and wiped her tears away. How could she have been so stupid, so naive? Two years now seemed like an eternity. So many things the same, but so many things were different.
She stood up and then sat on the windowsill, looking out at the dimly lit street. Life should be good. After the war ended, Isabella had finally made a name for herself. For the past two years she had been traveling all over the UK to model. Sure, she wasn't known in the Muggle world, but being known in the wizarding world is what mattered to her. Finally her name didn't hold a stigma when it was heard, no one cared who she had come from, but rather how she looked. The world she now lived in, the one that now consumed her, was fickle and superficial, but it was something she thought she had craved.
Two years ago she had vowed that she would never return home. It held too many painful and sad memories. She hated being in the house, where the ghost of her father still lingered. The fact that they had had such a short time together left a deep ache in her heart that was too hard to bare. On top of that, the fact that she shared the house with her now ex boyfriend proved to be just as cruel of a reminder as to why she didn‘t want to be back. But, circumstances had changed and apparently people change. He had moved on, it was simple as that. She thought she had done the same. In reality she had meerly shut off her feelings, pushed them to the side and pretended they didn't exist. The ice princess had once been melted, but now she was back in the form of the ice queen.
Isabella sighed and stood up from the windowsill, wiped her tears yet again. No matter how hard she tired the silent tears just kept rolling down her pale cheeks. With a yawn she sleepily made her way over to her queen sized bed. The last time she had slept in that bed, she had woken up with Harry beside her. But that would never happen again. Now he had the sickeningly perky Tricia Norwood to wake up next to. Blonde, bubbly, vivacious. To sum it up, she was everything Isabella wasn't. Where Tricia was light, Izzy was dark. They couldn't look more different from each other. Tricia after all was blonde, with a skinny waif like body. Isabella on the other hand was just as thin, but she had curves and a set of breasts that made men's pop out of their heads. She took great satisfaction in the fact that she didn't look like a 12 year old boy, but hey, if that's what Harry was into now who was she to say anything?
It’s not as though Isabella had always been icy and shut off from the rest of the world. Growing up she had been a happy and content little girl. She was well adjusted, despite her father and mother had both disappeared from her life before the age of two. She never gave her Aunt and Uncle (Marian and Amos Diggory) any trouble at all after they had been kind enough to take in her and Will. No, her cold exterior came with age. She had witnessed too much darkness in her life not to be affected by it.
When she was just ten years old she had learned who her mother was, and she had to admit it came as quite a surprise. Unfortunately she was the only daughter of Lord Voldemort’s only daughter, Celia. Her father really wasn’t much better. All her life she was told her father, Sirus Black, had killed 13 people with a single curse. When she was thirteen years old she finally discovered the truth about her father. He wasn’t a raving lunatic after all, but rather a loving and caring father. Still, she had the stigma of the Riddle name hanging over her head every minute of everyday and just because her and her friends knew her father was innocent, didn’t mean anyone else did. What made things worse is that she was the spitting image of her mother and when they finally came face to face it was like looking into a mirror.
The one thing that had stayed the same in her long absence was Ron and Hermione's love... as well as their love for bickering. Both had greeted her the same way they did when they were still attending Hogwarts. Both could still bring a smile to her face. Her brother, Will, was the other constant in her life. They exchanged owls a few times a week while she was off traveling. He was still the same brother she had grown up with, except now he seemed to have inherited their fathers rumoured love for the ladies. When Isabella had arrived home, his latest flavour of the week was attached to his arm. For the life of her she couldn't recall the bleach blonde's name, and she was sure Will was having the same problem.
The biggest surprise of all came not when all the Weasley's, Lupin, Mad Eye Moody, Tonks, and the rest of the old Order of the Phoenix, but rather when Draco Malfoy showed up. It appeared he really had redeemed himself in the eyes of everyone. It was he, after all, who killed his own father in order to help Harry defeat Voldemort. Draco gladly took the Veritaserum potion to prove who's side he was really on. Izzy had no doubts of where his loyalties lied after that, it was she who had brewed the potion in the first place. Everyone said she took after her mother that way. Instead of foul words, hexes and fights, Draco was greeted warmly, and as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt a strange sort of wind pass through the room. She was still getting used to thinking of him as a friend.
She rolled onto her side and stared at her dull reflection in her vanity mirror. Her blue eyes blinked when she did, her reflection mimicking her every move, yet she didn't feel like herself. For a spilt second she saw a flash of darkness in the hollow pools of her eyes. Still to this day, people who had known her mother would comment on how much she and her are alike. When she had walked into potions class in year six, Professor Slughorn had mistaken her for Celia Riddle, the brilliant girl he had taught so many years ago. The way she was compared to Celia made her sick. Who in their right mind would want to be compared to such a monster? She was told their actions and personalities were so much alike. Both ambitious, bright, determined, no one ever saw Celia heading down a road so many were afraid to follow. Except where Celia had turned bad, Izzy was and had always been good. Never tempted by the darkness, despite who's blood flowed so freely in her veins.
Slowly she had to look away, her face was just a painful reminder of what dark shadows lurked in this house. She felt hollow and empty, something she had felt for years. No amount of pictures or money or attention could ever make her whole again. When her father was murdered she had felt numb... angry, scared and alone. But she had been whole again after that. She felt something even more powerful than all those emotions combined. She knew what it was like to be loved, and her heart ached for it now. She knew it could make her whole again, to bring light back into her gray hued life. But she didn't want just anyone's love. She wanted the person who had made her whole in the first place. She wanted Harry. She should be moving on for real this time. If she did that, it would be just one more lie to convince herself of.
As she slowly drifted to sleep, her mind raced. She saw memories flash before her eyes. Happier times. Times in her life where the only care in the world was whether she was going to pass her classes or not. Times that were passed with lazy afternoons and happy smiles. It was a world that she hadn't known for years. As her body relaxed and her breathing became more rhythmic one thought screamed loud and clear in her mind. She had spent the past two years running from reality. She couldn't do it anymore. No longer would she push her feelings and her needs into a distant space in her mind. She knew that no matter how far she got away, her problems could be right around the next corner. She had made up her mind in that split second before she entered a dreamless sleep: she was going to chase down and face her demons head on. She owned it to herself to do so.