— chapter ten —
A SMALL VICTORY

—

            HER FACE HELD no expression, lips thin as she sat with a straight posture for Professor Slughorn to arrive. He was currently meeting with another student about their grades as she waited silently in his office. She was pretty sure that the student was Dorcas Meadowes, and she heard that her grades were declining after the death of her friend; Marlene McKinnon.

         Longingly, her thoughts went to Sirius, betraying her conscious as she thought of him grieving. They were friends, you know. They were great friends – not as close as the boys – but close enough that he mentioned the girl to Remelda sometimes at night when she needed to calm down after the yelling of their parents. She was a muggleborn, Death Eaters killed her, Remelda was going to become one of them, and that was all.

         Remelda blinked. No, she couldn't think of Marlene. Couldn't ask what she wanted to do with her life, couldn't ask if she ever thought about having children, and couldn't ask if she wanted to marry someone at all. She couldn't. Marlene was dead. So even if she wanted to be a Healer, or wanted children, or wanted to marry someone she loved, she couldn't. Because Marlene was dead and she was Sirius' friend and now he was grieving.

         She couldn't comfort him, though, because she couldn't forgive him. Not yet. He had broken her in too many ways and she couldn't allow herself to let him in just yet.

         But she didn't have to think of that anymore as the door opened and slammed again and the head of her house was smiling at her and going to sit behind his desk. "Hello, Miss Black, how may I help you this evening?"

         "I wanted to talk about another student in Slytherin," she coolly said, "Regarding my attack from last week."

         "Please, go on," Slughorn smiled, "I hope that you know you don't have to speak about this. If you want to move on, we don't have to talk about it. I won't pressure you."

         "No, I need to talk about this," Remelda shook her head, "It was Alfred Wilkins."

         "Your friend?"

         "Ex-friend. I don't consider those who stab me in the back a friend anymore," her lips twitched to a frown, thinking of her (ex)brother for a second. No, don't. Don't think about that.

         "Yes, yes, I understand," Professor Sughorn nodded, "But are you sure it was him? This is a serious offense, Miss Black, and we wouldn't want the wrong person to punished."

         Of course she knew that. Of course she knew that, if she were to die, he could've been sent to Azkaban if caught. She knew that well, and she knew that he deserved to pay. The letters demanding an explanation from her parents or another lecture about not ratting out family friends be damned. Because she knew that. She knew that they would sent her letters, demand to know exactly what happened before sternly telling her that she couldn't do that.

         Even if Slytherins were prideful people who truly only respected themselves and their families, they knew something about loyalty. They knew something about keeping your mouth shut for someone else to be free. The pureblood families stuck together, married their children off to each other, and they protected each other.

         Not anymore, not with Remelda. She would get her revenge; she would get her justice.

         "I understand, Professor Slughorn, and I'm sure that it was him. I remember the night clearly now, and he even confessed to it himself," Remelda answered, "So yes, I'm sure."

         "Well, then I guess Professor Dumbledore and I need to have a little chat with him. I hope that you're correctly, Miss Black, otherwise an innocent student will be expelled from Hogwarts."

         Her lips twitched up, almost a smile. "I am, don't worry," she said, leaving the office.

         Remelda understood a thing or two about loyalty too. Maybe not to those who hurt her, but to those she loved. Unluckily for Alfie, she didn't love him. In fact, it could be said that Remelda only loved one other person than herself; Regulus. She understood the need to protect someone else. Maybe not pureblooded families, but her brother. She understood that.

         And she also understood an unwanted loyalty to others. She didn't want to admit it, but she would always be loyal to Sirius. Even if he betrayed her as well. He hurt her worse than Alfie did, he did an emotional damage to her, but a part of her forgave him. It was a small, hidden part in the depths of her heart and mind, but it was there. It was true.

         So maybe she would never forgive Alfie, but he didn't deserve it. And maybe she would never admit that she forgave Sirius, that didn't matter.

         She was getting her justice, and she felt happy.

―

         Eight days later, it had been decided. The headlines of the Prophet were big, stating that Slytherin Student Expelled from Hogwarts! and a subtitle telling more.

         "Sixth year student, Alfred Wilkins, was recently expelled from Hogwarts after attacking another student. The unnamed student, also from Slytherin, almost died in the attacks and a week after the events, the student came clean and told authorities about what Wilkins had done.

         "Head of Slytherin, Horac Slughorn, says this about the event, 'I am appalled by what has happened, that a student under my house could act this way.' Ha! Wait until he hears about the Death Eaters (pg. 8.)"

         Still, she had it in her hands as she sat in the library of the school, at a table by herself as she reread it over and over again. The issue had come out yesterday, and since basically everyone in Slytherin had a subscription to the newspaper, everyone knew what happened. Officially, Alfie had left school six days after Remelda's confession to Slughorn, a day before the issue was published. If she could say anything, it was that she Prophet worked fast.

         And everyone in Slytherin grimaced at the front page – this article. They all slammed their papers down, some even burned them, and when Remelda stayed for the Night Corner (which she hated), that was all they were talking about. Demetri, of course, had many thoughts on the matter. He talked about how the unnamed student should turn themselves in, that if anyone knew who it was, that they should uncover who it was. He also said they were a disgrace, that they should be shunned by the others.

         He also said that it was disgusting – that the student ratting him out was disgusting, did they know nothing of loyalty?

         Remelda laughed at that. Silently, of course. Apparently, she was a disgrace and should be shunned. She was disgusting, according to him, and apparently she didn't know a thing about loyalty. Ha!

         But here she saw, looking at it with an amused expression as she heard the familiar plop of a large book and the seat next to her being moved away from the table before the body of Remus Lupin sat down.

         "I thought it was illegal for Slytherins to read that article," he commented as he pulled himself into the table.

         "Basically," Remelda agreed, her fingers tracing Alfred's, "but I can't bring myself to care."

         He smirked, "Didn't know that you had a rebellious streak in you, Remelda. You're more like your brother than I thought."

         At the mention of Sirius, she stiffened. The playful mood they had developed over the many nights they had spent in the library together suddenly gone as the mention of her (ex)brother was thrown so carelessly into a starting conversation.

         Her jaw clenched, "Don't mention him."

         "I don't see why I can't," Remus said, "I've tried everything to help him and you've done nothing to help. I've tried subtle mentions in conversations, tried to work out why you hate him so much, but I can't anymore. I think you need to know the truth."

         Her nostrils flared as she looked at him, the newspaper long forgotten, "I think you mean an excuse for me to forgive him."

         "No, the truth. What did you think? That Sirius immediately forgot about you after he left? That he never tried to help you like the Potters helped him?" Remus fired the questions that Remelda didn't want an answer for. It was much easier just to hate him, "No, Remelda. That's not the truth. Your parents may have told you that, but it's a lie."

         "I don't see why this matters," she tried to keep her cool, "Sirius should just learn to respect that I don't want him in my life anymore."

         He rolled his eyes, "Right now, I don't care. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of trying to help, to be a friend for you, and then you suddenly deciding that you don't need a friendship – that you don't need Sirius."

         "I don't," she snarled, "I've managed to live without him for two years now, I don't need him anymore."

         "Then what I tell you won't change a thing," Remus rolled his eyes, "He tried, you know. The Potters went to court, filed a report for abuse, tried to tell the Ministry that your parents were abusing you and your brothers and tried to tell them that the Blacks weren't fit for parenthood. They tried, they did, but it didn't work. They loss the case, and Sirius was forbidden to ever talk to you two again. Honestly, he could go to Azkaban for pulling the stunts he has."

         Sirius in Azkaban. The thought hurt her heart more than she would like to admit. "That isn't true," she tried, her voice shaky, "You're lying. Sirius didn't do any of that, he didn't try at all."

         He rolled his eyes, "Honestly, Remelda, if you believe that, then there's nothing I can do. I'll bite, I'll leave you alone now. You can be happy by yourself because I'm tired of trying to be your friend when it's clear that you don't want one – when it's clear that you hate me and anyone in my house."

         That statement, too, hurt more than she would like to admit. She didn't want Remus to leave, not anymore. She wanted him to stay, but as his figure started to retreat, no words formed from her mouth to stop him. And she watched him leave, the magic of the library broken as the doors slammed and he was gone from her sight.