— chapter seventeen —
TWO DISOWNED, ONE DEAD

—

            "IT'S NOT TOO late."

         Remelda's eyebrow raised as she flipped the page of her muggle novel. Of course, it was disguised as to one about the dangers of werewolves in society (mother would be so proud!) so that no one would question it. But who was there to do so? The common room was empty, it was too late, and she was sitting with Demetri. It wasn't ideal in any way, but he wanted to talk and she didn't feel like moving at that moment, so she stayed.

         She felt the need to laugh at him for saying that. He didn't understand, though she didn't expect him to. Remelda was one of the lucky ones with someone who knew the full truth and had a clear head, someone to teach her right from wrong. Demetri didn't have that, not many others in her house did. And while she despised the corrupt thoughts of those she shared a room with, she didn't hate the individuals. No, for the people poisoned with the beliefs they had, she felt immense pity because it was more probable that they would never understand – they would never see the light.

         "I haven't a clue what you're talking about, Demetri," she innocently played. It was easier. She said things before she didn't mean. Well, she meant those words, but she didn't mean to say them in that moment.

         Demetri sighed loudly, "Don't play dumb with me, Remelda. You remember the conversation just as well as I do."

         Her eyes skimmed the page before realizing that she wouldn't really comprehend anything she was reading as she had the conversation; it would take up every thought and there would be none left for the novel. Which was a real shame, she was quite enjoyed The Great Gatsby. She bookmarked the page, placing it on the coffee table in front of her, silently noting to remember she set it there before leaving.

         He eyed the book, "You're reading something like that and yet...yet you say these things?"

         "What do you want me to stay?" Remelda questioned, brown eyes looking into his own intently, "That it was an off day? I didn't mean anything?"

         "Yes!" he exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped pacing for a moment, "It's not that hard. You heard something from another house – right? That has to be it!"

         Remelda didn't meet his gaze, opting to look at the Prophet on the table, picking it up to see the head. "You still read the news?" he asked, she nodded (it was true, she did), "It's all rubbish – don't believe anything."

         "You're only saying that because of Alfred and that whole scandal," Remelda noted, "You don't actually believe that."

         "They should've kept their mouth shut!"

         "I've been told that too many times in my life, Demetri," Remelda stood up, looking at him as though she were facing a fear, "But I won't listen anymore."

         Clarity seemed to overtake his puzzled expression as he just looked at her, an underline of disgust in his voice as he accused her: "It was you! You were the one that got him thrown out of school!"

         "And with good reason," her mind recalled all of the scars that littered her body now because of them, blending him perfectly with the ones from her parents, "He almost killed me."

         Demetri rolled his eyes, looking away from her as if she were the most hideous of sights, "You know he didn't mean to – Alfie could never have killed you. You were his friend!"

         With the same calmness as before, she repeated herself, "He almost killed me."

         "Like that matters now! You'll be glad if I don't kill you. Or worse, send a letter back to your parents!" Demetri threatened, causing her to scoff.

         "Go ahead, like I care anyways," Remelda said, "Like they can do anything while I'm here at Hogwarts."

         In all truthfulness, Remelda was a little afraid of that. She didn't know the full reach of her parents' wrath, seeing as she never provoked it. It would be bad – something terrible that would make her regret the very words that escaped her mouth before.

         "You – You ratted him out! Everything would've been fine if you kept your pretty, little mouth shut!" Demetri yelled at her again, fury flashing in his eyes.

         "Why would you even want to keep him around? Did you know of his plans before? What he wanted?" Remelda stepped closer, pressing on as she tried for Demetri to see reason.

         He shook his head, "You're not making any sense, Remelda."

         "No, you're not making any sense," Remelda rephrased, "He planned on leaving – with me. Wanted to run away and start a life together, so how can you still defend him?"

         "But you didn't want that."

         "Of course I didn't," Remelda agreed, "I had Regulus to think about – I could never leave him."

         "What about me? The marriage?"

         "What about you? Demetri, we're nothing. I don't give a damn about you and I never have – never will. If you were to die, I would laugh and say 'good riddance'. My life is better without you in it," Remelda ranted.

         "You'll regret those words," he threatened, "When we're married, I'll make you pay for that."

         This time, she couldn't contain her laugh, just letting it fall from her mouth effortlessly as she said, "Demetri, didn't you hear me the first time? I have no plans on marrying you. You aren't anywhere near my future."

         "Your parents –"

         "– my parents are also far away from my future as well," Remelda cut him off, "With Regulus gone, there's nothing holding me back. I finally feel like I can be free."

         "From what? Because it won't be from muggles," Demetri said, his mind not able to comprehend any other freedom. It was all he had been taught; to want a life free from muggles.

         She shook her head, "I don't care about them, they don't affect me. Live or die, doesn't matter. But real freedom. Where I can make my own choices and speak my mind."

         "That's not how a proper lady acts, Remelda," he tried to remind her – as if there was something to remind her of.

         "Yes, I know. A proper lady would never speak unless spoken to first, I'm aware. A proper lady would never work or think for herself. That's what a man's for, right? Wrong. Not anymore – not with me, I won't be like that," Remelda told him quite honestly.

         Unable to hold any more anger or poison back, he stared at her for a moment before letting out a low growl, "I hope that you are killed for this, Remelda."

         She returned with a bitter smile, straightening her posture and firing back, "Likewise."

         "The letter will be sent by tomorrow morning, you better hope your parents pity you," he continued.

         "Do your worse, I've already been to hell," she snarled at him, picking up her book again and heading up the stairs, not missing the looks she got from her roommates as she went into the bathroom to prepare herself for bed.

         And, on the table beside her bed, she saw the only remaining petal from the old flower that once laid there. It was a sign of hope for her; a sign of a small victory.

―

         She stared at the letter with a smug smile present on her face. It had arrived that morning and now it was quite late and she was still staring at it as if it were a trophy; an accomplishment. And it was, to her, it was the biggest accomplishment in her life – at least in that moment. And it was fresh, the writing on her mother still as neat as ever and even the angry dot of her quill on the paper seemed praising. She loved it, she loved that they were so angry and now she wasn't a part of that family anymore.

         She was free. She was free for herself but also Regulus, who didn't get to know freedom in his life before it was lost.

         "Penny for your thoughts?" she blinked, looking up to see Remus Lupin smiling at her before taking a seat at the table. It had been a while since they sat together at the library and it felt weird yet oddly comforting.

         She shook her head, "Just this letter my mother sent me."

         His smile faltered, realizing how serious the matter could be – it was from the Black household, and nothing good could really come from there. "You alright?"

         "More than fine, actually," now that was an answer that surprised him. He remembered the nights when he couldn't sleep because, with the help of his special hearing abilities, he heard Sirius sniffling over the horrid letters his mother sent him. All of them telling how disappointed they were in him, all of them with the same message that he wasn't good enough.

         "Are you sure?"

         "Remus, I appreciate the concern, but it isn't needed," Remelda pursed her lips, "Have a look at it yourself."

         He gave her an apprehensive look, as if the document in her hand was classified information he wasn't supposed to read, but with the agitated look from Remelda he took it and read. His eyes were widening from the content and didn't even finish it before saying, "They disowned you?"

         She shrugged, "It was bound to happen, Remus, no need for that. I was planning on leaving myself but, well, this is much easier. Thank Demetri for that."

         At his name, Remus became cold and gave a glare to the table, which Remelda didn't know why. He had never even met the Carrow boy! Nothing bad had come from him, not to Remus but to the girl, yes, yet he was still looking as if he could kill the boy if he wanted to. Which, at that moment, it seemed he did.

         "What did Demetri do?" he asked after a tense moment, calming himself down.

         She bit her lip, debating whether or not to answer before saying fuck it and telling him, "Sent a letter to my parents telling them about how he was concerned. Said that I was speaking treasonous words, though all I told him was that I had no plans on marrying him in the future."

         "Did you return his ring?"

         "What?"

         "Did you return his ring?"

         Finally understanding what he meant, Remelda gave out a chuckle, "No, I didn't. Never had one in the first place, otherwise it would be long gone. Think I would've burned it before giving it back – would've been spectacular, invited everyone at Hogwarts to see the burning."

         "You make all these jokes, but are you okay, Remelda? For real?" Remus stared at her, and the truth was that she wasn't. But did she say that? No. Most definitely not.

         Instead, she gave a smile and said, "Of course I am, I've completed my mission, and now I'm free."

         But a part of her ached because, yes, her mission was a success and she survived, but Regulus didn't – he was still dead.