“Izzy...” Will called, leaning on her bedroom door frame.
He was met with silence as he watched his sister. She was curled up in their father’s favorite chair, which she had moved into her room after his death, with a blanket wrapped around her and a book in her lap.
“ISABELLA!” he shouted.
She jumped, the book flew out of her lap and landed on the floor. “Good Lord!” she exclaimed.
Will laughed and entered the room, picking up her book for her. “I’m going out for a bit. I have to run over to Diagon Alley, need anything?” he asked her.
“No... I’m alright, thank you,” Isabella replied, her eyes studying him. “So I’m home alone then?” she asked.
“Yeah... Harry is at work, as is Tricia. As for the rest of your friends, who have now temporarily moved in, they’re working as well. Oh, but Dobby is home,” Will told her.
After Hogwart’s closed soon after Dumbledore death, the siblings had decided to hire Dobby as their house elf. Kreacher didn’t take kindly to the news, and he became more and more ornery, moody and even less of a help than he normally was. He had finally passed away last year much to everyone's delight.
“Alright... maybe I’ll see how he’s doing in a little while,” she said absent mindedly, her eyes drifting away from Will.
He handed her book back to her and then kneeled down in front of her. “Are you okay? You’ve been home, what? A week now? And we hardly see you. You’re always locked away in your room or Apparating to your managers house. You’re a million miles away.”
Isabella brought her blue eyes off the floor and locked them on her brother’s own eyes. He had Sirius’ eyes, as well as his smile. “You look so much like Dad,” she said, clutching her book to her chest. “I don’t know if I’m okay. Ever since I’ve gotten home I’ve been numb. I’m scared that if I let myself feel it’s going to be too painful,” she took a breath.
Will studied her face. “You don’t have to be scared.”
“I keep trying to tell myself that. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I just need to let go, I can’t. There are so many memories here and everywhere I look I see him. And then there is Harry... I hate seeing him with her,” her voice took on a tone of disgusted when she thought of Tricia.
Will let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah... this is going to sound completely wrong, but I hate seeing him with her too,” he admitted, thus causing his sister to laugh. “See... there, I made you laugh,” he smiled.
“William... I never knew you felt that way about Harry,” she teased, a glimmer of her former self returning momentarily. “But seriously, Will, I can’t explain. I feel like if I just don’t let go I’ll be swallowed whole, yet if I do let go and accept life for what it is I’m going to end up worse off than I am now.”
“Listen, I know it’s hard. I hate the fact that Dad is gone, but it’s been nearly six years and as much as we don’t want it to be true he’s never coming back. He wouldn’t want you to suffer or to be sad. You know damn well he wants you to be happy, and so do I. Maybe I was wrong in asking you to come back, but shit, Izzy, we need you to,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re so much stronger than you think, but please don‘t go through this alone. Lean on me or Ron or Hermione, even Draco. You and I have had to deal with so much in the past few years. We already lost Dad, I’m not going to lose you too,” he tightened his grip, his voice straining a little.
Isabella bit her bottom lip, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She lost that battle, and slowly the tears rolled down her face. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise you.”
He smiled weakly, and patted his cheek. “I love you, Brat,” he ruffled his hair as he stood up straight.
“I love you too,” she smiled back at him, her tears slowly subsiding.
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The sound of silence rang in the house. Every so often she’d hear a creak or groan from the old house that would echo in the air, but nothing stirred. No noise of laughter, or friends talking. Even Dobby had gone out, though not before he checked on Isabella and made sure she didn’t need anything. A slight darkness had now settled over the house too, the only light coming from a small lamp that sat on her writing desk. It was just enough light to read by.
She was about to get up to light a few fires in their respective fireplaces and turn on a few more lights when she heard the first noise rip through the air. She thought at first it was Harry coming home from work.
“Harry?” she called, walking out of her second floor bedroom and looking down the stairs to the main landing. There was no one there.
She shook her head at herself as she checked her watch. It was only three in the afternoon, far too early for anyone to be home from work. She was about to turn back towards her room when she felt something brush past her and then she heard foot steps leading up the stairs. She strained to listen, the foot steps stopped and she heard the attic door creak open. The light in her room suddenly went out, leaving the whole house under a gray shadow.
“Hello?” she called. She knew it couldn’t be her imagination. She had felt the air move, rushing past her and leaving her in its wake.
When she didn’t hear an answer she darted into her room and grabbed her wand tightly in her hand. As soon as she did a sensation of cloudiness flooded over her. She moved, though it felt like every movement took more energy than she had. But the thought that someone or something was in her house made her keep going. Her head was swimming and it felt like she had entered a dream world. She could hear the blood rushing behind her ears and her heart beating in the silence.
She started up the stairs, one by one she conquered them, taking her one step closer to the attic. She struggled against the fits of dizziness she was now fighting. As she finally arrived at the landing, she quickly walked down the five and a half foot long hallway and she stood before the attic door that was open just a crack. Her head was floating and before she knew it, she was being sucked into a childhood memory. She could hear the voices of her parents and behind the haze that now settled in her head.
“Dominique, nique, nique. S'en allait tout simplement. Routier pauvre et chantant. En tous chemins, en tous lieux. Il ne parle que du bon Dieu. Il ne parle que du bon Dieu.”
The voices of her dead parents sang out in perfect unison.
She knew the song. They sang it to her when she was a baby. But how did she know what she had just heard was real and not her mind playing tricks on her? As quickly as the haze had come, it lifted leaving her feeling drained, but alert.
She grabbed the attic door handle and pushed it open as quickly as she could. She blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the blackness of the small room. She lifted the wand, used a quick nonverbal spell and light poured out of it. She looked straight ahead and saw two figured standing there.
“Daddy?” Her eyes met Sirius’.
“I thought I was dead,” came his reply, his voice hoarse. He looked weak and ragged and most of all confused. His eyes were hollow, no twinkle or life left in them.
Isabella started to move forward, wanting to go to her father and help him. But the second cloaked figure moved in front of Sirius. Slowly the figure removed the hood of her cloak to reveal herself. Standing before her was the woman Isabella had murdered two years ago. Celia Riddle. Izzy froze, the light now gone from her wand, though it didn’t make much difference, there was an odd bluish glow emanating from Celia.
“Surprised?” Celia smirked, obviously enjoying the fact she had rendered her daughter speechless. “I can’t blame you. Most children don’t expect to see their dead parents standing in front of them. But then again, most children don’t MURDER their mothers.”
Isabella shook her head, her mouth slightly open. She wanted to speak, but no words came out. To say that she was surprised would have been an understatement. It felt more like a slap across the face and a knife plunged into her heart.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Mommy’s got your tongue?” Celia hissed, no longer seeming amused that her daughter had no reply. “That seems to be a real trend with you, Isabella. You’re weak and pathetic. You run away, scared to face your problems instead of standing up and fighting.”
“Shut up! SHUT UP! You’re DEAD!” Isabella covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly, willing it all to go away.
“On the contrary my dear. I’m very much alive. And now I’m going to kill you,” she replied casually.
Isabella’s eyes flew open. “No... no! I killed you. You’re dead!” She sounded shrill and she no longer recognized her own voice.
“Scared are we? I would be. You have no one to save you now, you spineless little bitch!” Celia hissed. “Where is your boy wonder when you need him now? Or your heroic brother? Can you believe it? No only did my own daughter attempt to murder me, but my own son was in on it too,” she shook her head.
“I said SHUT UP! I’m not weak! I’m NOT!” Isabella yelled. “You don’t know. No idea..” her eyes darting over to Sirius, but he just stared straight ahead. Lifeless.
“I will kill you now and the last memories everyone will have of you is the fragile and damaged person you’ve become. Revenge is sweet my, dear,” she taunted with a smirk.
An anger boiled inside of Isabella and her wits came flooding back to her. She was standing face to face with a Death Eater, one who happened to be her mother. She remembered all the horrible things Celia had done to people over the years. She had been the one to point the finger at Sirius all those years ago. It was her fault he had spent so many years in Azkaban. No one knew just how many people she had tortured and killed in a bid to impress her monster of a father.
“Have you said your final prayers? Maybe you can tell your daddy goodbye this time. You won't ever see each other ever again. This will hurt. I promise,” Celia now laughed as she lifted her wand out of her robe pocket.
“Avada Kedavra!”
The only sound that now rang in the air was the sound of a mirror crashing to the floor. Isabella froze as she looked at the shattered glass. There was no more Sirius, no more Celia. It had been in her mind the whole time. Or had it? It had seemed so real. Her hands now shook as she heard foot steps running up the steps, her name being called.
“ISABELLA?” Draco’s voice rang out first. He stopped at the attic door, the face of Ron, Hermione, Harry and Will behind his shoulder.
“What the hell happened in here?” Will pushed through the crowd and surveyed the broken pieces on the wood floor and his shaken sister.
“She was here! I saw her. She was going to kill me. I...I...” her words trailed off as Will interrupted her ramblings.
“Who?”
“Celia.” It was now so quiet you could have heard a pin drop from all the way down in the kitchen.
“Oh, Izzy. Did you hit your head?” Hermione had walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm Isabella.
“No.”
“Are you feeling alright?” Ron looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes! I’m fine. I’m perfectly fine.”
“You’ve been drinking then?” Harry said, his tone a little nasty.
“You’re a bastard, you know that?”
“You think so? Better a bastard than an angry, emotional drunk.” Harry replied, not being able to help himself.
“Quiet! All of you,” Will spoke up. “It’s just your imagination. She’s dead. We all saw her body with our own eyes.”
“I know! I was there, remember? I was the one who killed her,” Izzy sighed, now wanting to scream because everyone was looking at her like she had two heads. “She wasn’t alone. Dad was with her.”
“Ok this is ENOUGH Isabella! I know you’ve said since day one that he’s alive and somewhere out there, but this is ridiculous. Just get it through your mind: this wasn’t real,” Will snapped at her.
“But... I saw them,“ Her eyes were filling with tears and her throat felt tight. Not one of her friends or her brother would meet her eyes. “You all don’t believe me do you? You think I’ve lost it,“ shesaid, coming to a realization.
Finally a voice spoke out. “I believe you.”
“Thank you, Draco,” her eyes were met by his. She felt something stir with in her.
Something about the way he was looking at her made her feel gorgeous, but then all girls felt that when Draco Malfoy looked at them. Still, she hadn’t felt a man’s touch in a couple of years now and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have his lips kiss hers. Or have his fingers caress her skin.
He stepped closer to her, ignoring the glares he got from Harry, Ron and Hermione. Despite Draco sacrificing his father's life to save theirs, they still didn’t completely trust him. She didn’t blame them, she was still getting used to thinking of him as a friend. Will was a different story, the two of them had been friends while in Slytherin together. He had also been quick to defend Malfoy the night Dumbledore was murdered by Snape, claiming Draco wasn’t evil and was left no other alternative. Of course time had proven that Will was right, but the damage was still there and time was slowing healing the wounds between the Slytherin and Gryffindor’s.
“Come on, I’ll take you to your room,” he placed an arm around Isabella’s shoulder and lifted his eyes to meet Harry’s, a smirk on his lips. Harry met his gaze, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses, but he said nothing.
“Izzy...” Will started to say something, but she raised her hand.
“Save it. I don’t want to hear anything from any of you.”
“That’s not fair. We...” Hermione was also cut off.
“I mean it. I want nothing to do with you. You, Ron, Harry and especially you, William. Is that real enough for you? Or maybe it‘s the liquor talking, right Harry?” she asked as Draco lead her out of the attic, his arm still around her protectively.
Once they got back to her room, Izzy slammed the door shut, pulled a trunk out of her closet and started to throw clothes into it at fevered pace. Draco watched silently for a moment as she opened her chest of drawers and tossed her clothes into the trunk.
“What are you doing?” he asked, though the question seemed rather obvious.
“I’m packing. I need to get out of here,” she said, not looking up.
“And just where do you plan on going?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.
“I... well, I don’t know,” she stopped and looked at him. “I can’t stay here. The whole lot of my supposed best friends think I’m nuttier than a bowl of cashews. I guess maybe I was going to either prove them right or wrong and try and find them,” she answered, referring to her parents.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” he stood up and walked over to her. “I know what the dark arts are like. They have more tricks up their sleeves than Fred and George,” his last comment made her smile a little. “Just promise me you won't go anywhere. If you go now it’s far too dangerous. You’re emotional and unprepared to face her again. Please, don’t go anything irrational. Stay here... with me.”
He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her head into his chest, her arms wrapped around his back as well. She closed her eyes as she thought. Maybe he was right. She’d have no chance against Celia in her current state. She’d be dead before she would even know what was happening. Besides, he wanted her here. She didn’t know what that meant, but he wanted her.
“I’ll stay.”