Darkest Days

Darkest Days

Prologue

    He wanted to kill Malfoy...wanted to stand over his lifeless corpse and smile. He made his way quietly down to the dungeons, determination evident in the set of his jaw. And then, when he was just outside Malfoy’s prefect chambers, wand poised and ready, a hand reached out and touched his arm. He looked up into familiar golden eyes and his arm dropped.

    “Don’t be like Him, Harry.”

    Her sad smile broke his heart.

    “Ella...”

    He collapsed into her arms, crying against her shoulder.

    “I will not let you fall, Harry. Wherever...whenever...to the ends of the earth...I will be there to catch you. I promise.”

                    *    *    *

Chapter One

    Harry sat in at the Gryffindor table, absently moving his food around on his plate while pretending to listen to his best mate, Ron.

    “She gets so mad for no reason. I hardly say a thing and she goes mental.”

    Harry nodded and made a noise of agreement, and Ron kept going on. My godfather’s...gone...Voldemort almost succeeded in killing us all...and he’s complaining about Hermione’s mood swings. I wish he’d just shut up! No sooner had Harry thought this, than the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Ron’s words died on his lips. Harry glanced up briefly, and was caught up in multi-hued, fluttering black hair, plush, blood-red lips, and glittering golden eyes. Ron was not the only one that had gone silent. The entire Great Hall had been struck speechless by the mysterious woman’s entrance. A smirk played on her lips as she headed up to the staff table. Dumbledore nodded at her and lead her out of the Great Hall without a word. Once the two of them were gone, noise returned to the hall.

    “Who was that?” Seamus gasped.

    “She was bloody gorgeous!” Dean exclaimed.

    “You can say that again,” Ron murmured.

    “Harry? Harry, you okay?”

    Neville waved a hand in front of his face and Harry blinked, focusing on his friends.

    “Looks like Harry agrees with us,” Dean laughed

    Harry didn’t respond. He was lost in thought. Not since Cho had a girl had this affect on him. But this girl was no girl...she was a grown woman...in her twenties at least...

    “There he goes again. Completely gone, that one,” Ron said with a shake of his head.

    Harry’s cheeks involuntarily flushed and he narrowed his eyes at Ron.

    “At least I’m not goggling at someone when my girlfriend is upstairs unaware.”

    Ron looked taken aback, while Seamus, Dean, and Neville shared a look.

    “Oh, bugger off, all of you!”

    Harry strode out of the Great Hall and up seven flights of stairs to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

    “Fizzing Whizbees,” He snarled, before the Fat Lady could say anything. The portrait swung open and Harry went through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was on one of the sofas, but Harry said nothing to her before ascending the staircase to the boys’ dormitory. He fell into bed fully dressed and pulled the hangings around him. When the others filed in some time later he pretended he was asleep.

                    *    *    *

    Dumbledore paced his office, while Ella sat in a chair in front of his desk.

    “Ella...”

    “That is my name,” Ella snapped as she rested her boots on the edge of the desk.

    “Would you-”

    “Not do that? I’ll put my feet down when you tell me where Sirius is.”

    “Ella...I am afraid...Sirius is gone.”    

    “Gone? You sent him away?”

    “No...he is gone, Ella.”

    The words sunk in and Ella’s face hardened.

    “Who?”

    “Ella...”

    “WHO?”

    “Bellatrix Lestrange.”

    Ella’s face paled and her hands tightened into fists.

    “If it is the last thing I do...” she trailed off, suddenly overcome by tears.

    Dumbledore was silent until Ella composed herself.

    “Where am I staying?”

    “You may find comfort in one of the empty rooms in Gryffindor Tower.”

    “Thank you.”

    Ella departed from Dumbledore’s office and Dumbledore watched her go with a frown on his haggard face.

    “My poor Ella...if there was a spell to take away your pain, I would happily perform it. But I am afraid it is not that easy.”

    “It never is, Headmaster.”    

    Dumbledore glanced at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, former Headmaster and Sirius’ great-great grandfather.

    “It pains me to say that you are right, Phineas.”

                    *    *    *

    Ella lay in bed in a nearly bare dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. She found no warmth under the comforter and thick sheets. With sadness, she realized she would never be warm again...because Sirius was her warmth...her heart...the reason for her existence. Bellatrix Lestrange...you will die a horrid, painful death...I swear on my life you will... The thought did not bring closure. Silent tears fell down her cheeks and she cried herself to sleep...visions of Sirius and all she could have had flitting in her head.

                    *    *    *