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The house was more ominous at night. Almost as if all the dark magic they worked so hard to get rid of during the day was seeping out of the dusty walls, vibrating in the air, and making one’s skin tingle. Ginny lie awake, not because of the house and its horrors but because of her own mind and the demons that have remained there since she was eleven. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself to go to sleep, but the moment her eyelids close together she sees his face. She hears his synthetically understanding voice as she remembers how she bore her young, naïve heart out to in a cursed journal that she would never truly be rid of. Her eyes snapped back open and she lets out a slow, but shaky breath, afraid she might wake Hermione, who was fast asleep next to her, apparently oblivious to the darkness swimming around them and inside of Ginny’s head.
It is unsurprising that Sirius hates this place. She did not understand why Dumbledore made him come back here, but her mother constantly reminded her to not question the headmaster’s judgement and so Ginny said nothing. She exchanged looks with Lupin at the dinner table, a mutual concern seemingly running between them, but she never spoke. It was not her place to.
During the day it was easier to be in the house. Fred and George were a great distraction, even Sirius with his ever-declining mental state seemed to perk up whenever the twins pulled pranks and got on their mother’s nerves—which really was not all that hard to do. Sometimes, though, it was tense in the house. Order meetings were becoming more frequent—they were planning on brining Harry soon—and the news shared amongst members was rarely good. Ginny was unable to attend the meetings, of course, but from what she heard from Lupin and Bill’s mumblings at dinner and the information she was able to persuade Tonks to share, she knew things were not in their favor.
A small meow at the foot of the bed suddenly made her jump. She sat up, her long, red hair flying forward with the motion, to see Crookshanks stretching and finding himself a more comfortable position to sleep. Ginny rolls her eyes, glancing down at Hermione to see that she was still asleep—she was. Unable to entertain the idea of rest anymore, Ginny shoves the blankets off of her and sneaks out of the room, careful to step over the creaky floorboard George had pointed out to her earlier as she wandered into the hallway.
It was cold, and Ginny mentally scolded herself for not thinking to grab her jumper. She folds her arms, attempting to preserve her body heat and continues to travel down the hallway and down the long staircase. This house was too big, she thought, as she passed rooms that have probably been locked for years, rooms that were being used for nothing but to hold deep, dark, pureblood secrets.
One door was open, though. One Ginny had never been in, one she was probably not allowed to be in. Still, she was Fred and George’s sister which meant she had curiosity coursing through her veins, and so she pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. There was a huge green rug in the middle of the room with silvery designs running across it. A mahogany desk was settled in the center of it, thick layer of dusk and cobwebs covering it and the various objects sitting upon it. There were several books, a few ornate decorations, and some gaudy candlesticks. Crooked photographs hung on the wall, pictures of unsmiling people with charcoal eyes. Ginny scrunched up her nose—Kreacher has obviously neglected his duties to clean this room, much like the rest of the house. She wonders if anyone else has discovered this space.
“You know, this house isn’t exactly one you should be wandering about in at night.”
Ginny whips around, her heart leaping into her throat for a moment before realizing it was just Sirius. He was standing in the doorway, his shoulder resting against the frame, a somber look on his face. The clothes he was wearing seemed to drown him, his body still extremely thin after all those years in Azkaban. The hair on his head had been tied up in a knot on his head, wand pocking out the side of it.
“Sorry.” Ginny says after she remembers how to breathe. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Sirius shrugs. “Neither could I. Would you like some tea? I was going to make some.”
Ginny nods, following him out of the room and down into the kitchen. They are both silent, taking comfort in one another’s presence but unwilling to discuss just what nightmares had been keeping them up. Ginny sits down patiently as Sirius begins to make the tea, his hands shaking slightly as he goes about it. She doesn’t mention it. It was a bit funny to her that Sirius made tea the muggle way, warming the water with a kettle and allowing it to steep for several moments. For as impatient as he was, he seemed to take his time with tea.
“Thank you.” She says once he puts a cup in front of her. He offers her a tight smile and sits across from her. Again, it is quiet, but the darkness that was earlier overwhelming Ginny seemed to be drifting away, leaving her feeling something close to content.
“Remus’ mother taught me how to make tea.” Sirius says, staring down at his cup. “It was the summer just before…seventh year? I had been living with James for some time at that point, so it must have been. We decided to take a trip to Wales to visit Moony. Their house was so hidden, tucked away from the rest of the town. It was safer that way, I suppose. For Remus. Anyway, I had woken up early, before the rest of the lads. Nightmares were still a common occurrence for me and so I snuck downstairs in an attempt to not bother anyone. Hope was already up. I was surprised, the sun hadn’t even started to rise, but she was sitting there at the small, wooden table reading some muggle novel. I remember she smiled at me and offered to make tea. She didn’t even question why I was up. She just offered tea. So, I said yes, even though it felt like I wouldn’t be able to stomach anything. And she made tea. It became sort of routine during the week we stayed. I would wake up in the early hours of the morning and Hope would be sitting in the kitchen, waiting for me. When it got down to the last few days, she showed me how to do it myself. It was calming, doing all the steps instead of rushing the process like us wizards like to do with so much. Even after we left the Lupin’s home, I would still wake up with nightmares and make Hope’s tea.”
Sirius looked up. “I still don’t know why the dementors didn’t take that memory from me. Maybe because of the nightmares that preceded it. Either way, I’m glad that Hope Lupin remains untainted in my mind.” He smiles slightly and Ginny grins back.
“She sounds like professor Lupin. I found myself having tea in his classroom many times when he was at Hogwarts.” Ginny shrugs. “I have nightmares, too. I think he might have known.”
Sirius hums, a soft look appearing on his face. “He tends to know those sorts of things.”
Ginny was unsure what the whole situation was with Sirius and Lupin. She knew they were close, that there was some sort of history there, something that likely went beyond friendship, but she never asked about it. It was apparent to see, though, in the ways that Lupin could calm Sirius unlike anyone else and the lingering looks they exchanged as well as the gentle touches they gave one another. She wondered if they would ever be able to recover what they once had in full force instead of dancing around one another with hesitancy. Maybe one day when the war ended they would be able to find some sort of peace with one another.
“Are you ever afraid it will never end?” Ginny finds herself whispering. Thinking about the war caused an ache in her chest, one she was afraid would become chronic as time went on.
“Mm, I suppose.” Sirius replied grimly. “Not so much that the war will not end, eventually it must. I’m more scared of what we will lose in the process.”
He was thinking about Harry. She knew he was thinking about Harry because that’s who she was thinking of. The whole fate of the world seemed to fall upon Harry Potter’s shoulders and Ginny feared that there was nothing she could do to protect him from it all. She wishes she could just take him away somewhere to hide, to wait for everything to blow over, but she knew Harry would never agree. He cared too much about everyone else even if they did not care about him in return. It was his fatal flaw, but she supposed that’s why destiny or fate or whatever decided to do this to him.
Ginny shifted slightly in her seat. The idea of losing Harry was one that haunted her mind almost as often as Tom Riddle did. He had become such a symbol of hope for her, a hero that had rescued her in the chamber of secrets but also as a friend who never saw her as the victim. Someone who she could banter with and laugh with. Someone who acknowledged her strength and was not intimidated by it like so many other boys she had dated. Harry was always the one in her mind, no matter how much she tried to get over him. She could imagine spending the rest of her life with him, despite how silly that sounded to say as a fourteen-year-old girl. Which is why losing him scared her so much.
“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Ginny asked. Sirius looked up, his face looking wearier than she had ever seen, a hollow look in his silver eyes, as if his mind were somewhere else.
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Yeah, he will be.”
Doubt lingered in the air like some poisonous fog that threatened to suffocate them, much like the rest of the evils within the house. Ginny almost wished for it, and that thought horrified her more than anything. It was too dark, too much like the thoughts she had when Tom Riddle was corrupting her mind. She took a long sip of her tea as a distraction, the heat of it scalding her throat as she did so. Her hands were quivering as she set the cup down and she tried to hide it as best she could, but Sirius noticed.
“I am definitely not as good as Remus when it comes to…expressing concern and offering counsel” he began tentatively, “but, I can listen. If you would like to talk about it. Whatever it is that is keeping you up.”
Ginny looked up him, at the kind but awkward smile he had plastered on his face and thought for a moment that Sirius was the best person she could come to with this. His mind had been toyed with for years by those vile dementors, so, if anyone could understand the feeling of losing their mind, it was him.
“My first year at Hogwarts, I was possessed by Tom Riddle.” She states bluntly. Sirius does not flinch. “Sometimes, especially at night, I can still hear him in my head. Telling me to…do things. To hurt people. It frightens me. I worry that he’s still there, that somehow he has been taking shelter in my mind waiting for the right opportunity to use me again. And so, I don’t sleep. If I don’t sleep, then he can’t take over my subconscious. He can’t control me. But it’s making me feel like I’m going insane. Makes me feel like, deep down, I am a terrible person.”
She exhales shakily. It feels nice, to say it out loud. Even if it sounds that much crazier to her, at least she did not have to hide it. Sirius remained silent, looking at her with an expression of thoughtfulness. He never seemed like the type to think before speaking, but maybe this was a special case. Maybe he did think she was crazy but didn’t want to tell her that straight out. Maybe professor Lupin had rubbed off on him.
“I get it. The feeling of going insane, I mean. And, though I’ve never been possessed, I have been under the imperious curse, so I can understand not having control of yourself. And it is terrifying, Ginny, you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t scare you. Voldemort isn’t possessing you, not anymore. And you know that. But that doesn’t mean the fear automatically goes away. It’s going to take time.” He leans forward, resting his elbows against the table and looking her in the eye. “But, you have to know that you’re not a bad person. Everyone has their demons; everyone has light and dark inside of them. I came from a family of bloody pureblood supremacists; doesn’t mean I was destined to be one myself. It’s what you choose to be that matters.”
Ginny’s a bit surprised at the tears burning in her eyes and she bites down on her lip. “I’m just so tired, Sirius.”
“I know. I know.” He moves out his chair and swiftly makes it to the other side of the table, kneeling beside her and pulling her into his arms. She lets out a sob that she feels like she’s been holding for years as she grips the back of his robes, sobbing into his shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Sirius whispers. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
She cries herself to sleep, waking in the morning to find herself tucked into yet another bed in some random room of the house. The sun was shining in through the window though and Ginny felt a flicker of ease and contentment rush through her. She sits up, feeling a warmth against her feet, and sees a giant, black dog resting at the foot of the bed. She smiles.
The house was more ominous at night, but the mornings didn’t seem so bad.