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𝟏𝟎. 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒

(10 : DAMNED GUILTY DEEDS . . .
TO SINNERS' MINDS)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

HOGWARTS WAS ALWAYS A HAVEN, so an oddly solemn air settled over the Great Hall as the students realised that war had breached their walls. There was an uneasiness that not even Dumbledore could quell as he made a speech about the murdered Hufflepuff, so he resolved to send all students back to their common room and offered a period of reprieve in the form of an extended Christmas break. The headmaster arranged for the Hogwarts Express to leave the following day — almost a whole week earlier than normal — and encouraged students to return home where possible. Of course some philosophical nonsense was entwined in his speech, but Juliet knew better than to give any weight to his words. Things like friendship and bravery were only good for earning house points, they didn't mean anything in the real world.

     Being brave sent children like Anna to an early grave. Instead of voicing her thoughts though, Juliet pursed her lips and briskly returned to her common room. As a prefect, she was partially responsible for making sure all the Slytherins were safe in the dungeons, but she had other matters to attend to.

Holly — Juliet's roommate — insisted it was hypocritical of the school to have it charmed so boys can't go up to the girls' dorms, but the girls can enter the boys' ones as they wish. Whilst Juliet had agreed at the time, she was suddenly grateful as she stomped up the boys' stairs with ease. The redhead had no reservations about throwing open the fifth years' dorm, an indignant fury knotting itself in her stomach, coiling like the serpent she wore on her robes. Ever since she returned from Hogsmeade, an anger unlike any other had been simmering beneath her skin.

"Hey! I could have been naked," cried out a boy she had never cared to learn the name of.

In the doorway, Juliet crossed her arms. "So? It's not like there's much to see," she said in an offhanded manner. "Now that we established that, get out. I need to speak with my darling fiancé alone."

Regulus was lying on his chest, flicking through an old tome with his wand. Although he feigned nonchalance at Juliet's appearance, his body tensed at the menace in her tone. He didn't understand her anger, but he had been evading her withering stare ever since she returned from Hogsmeade. And maybe he skipped Dumbledore's assembly in an effort to avoid her.

Looking between the couple, Regulus' roommate detected the tension and scurried downstairs without further argument. The second he left, Regulus pushed up on his elbows with a sigh and cast a charm that Juliet was unfamiliar with — muffliato.

At her quirked eyebrow, Regulus explained, "It makes sure we won't be overheard. I have a feeling this conversation will be of a sensitive nature."

"Ten points to Slytherin," she retorted.

"Oh come on, I at least deserve fifteen," Regulus said dryly.

Juliet repressed a snort. "No! Don't make me laugh. I'm mad at you."

He cocked his head. "I know our date wasn't exactly . . . adequate . . . if that's what this is about, but I've already arranged —"

     "I'm not upset about our date." Frustrated, the girl pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please, I'm hardly writing 'Juliet Black' alongside tiny hearts. Get over yourself."

     "Really? Because I heard that you and my brother, who is unfortunately a Black by name —"

"We were ten!"

"Moving from one brother to another, how scandalous. You are a real scarlet woman, Juliet Fawley and —"

    "You knew, didn't you?" exploded Juliet, unable to remain civil any longer. "Your disinterest and excuses in Hogsmeade weren't because you made plans at all — you knew that an attack was going to happen today."

Unperturbed by her outburst, Regulus kept the stone cold composure that only a pureblood raised in a household as dysfunctional as the Blacks could master. "Of course," he replied slowly. "You weren't to be harmed, I'm not sure I see the problem."

     "The problem is a little girl was murdered." Her tone was even and her gaze was unmoving. "I'm not one for politics, Regulus, but it is not up to any of us to play God. Believe me, I am no fool, I know there will be casualties in future years, I know that blood will rain and families will be torn asunder, but that is neither here nor there. Your parents have made their choice, as have mine, but that doesn't mean we need to be part of what lies ahead."

     "What exactly are you suggesting, Juliet?" Regulus prodded. "That we fight the good fight? That we join Dumbledore's army? Sorry to break it you, but they don't want us!"

     She grabbed him by the arm. Roughly. "I'd rather snog Slughorn than support Dumbledore." It was a blunt, yet wholly true comment. "What I'm suggesting is that you stop being a pawn in some crazy man's chess game. You could have stopped an innocent death today without being on either side. This isn't as straight forward as black or white, bad or good."

     Under her hold, Regulus remained still, his icy eyes staring into hers with such an intensity that she swore she felt electricity course through her veins. "That's where you're wrong. Your allegiance is either with the Dark Lord, or it's not," he lamented. "And I do hope it's not the latter for your own sake. You're emotional, I know, but walk away before you say something you can't take back." Almost imperceptibly, his features softened. "Please."

     "Tell me," she whispered, "I want you to tell me that you're not going to take it. The mark." Without realising, her voice began to escalate in volume and she became more hysterical. "I want you tell me that you don't believe a thirteen year old's death was justified. I want you to tell me that you aren't going to become a killer, not for your parents, not for him."

     All Juliet could do was watch as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat and a silence filled the room to the point of suffocation.

     Lost for words, Juliet breathed, "Lie to me. I'm begging you, lie to me if you need to."

    "I will do whatever it takes to make my parents proud." He shook away her hand. Roughly. "And if that means ridding the world of mudbloods and blood traitors, then all the better."

    Aghast, she turned around, knowing the conversation was over. Only when she was in the doorway once more did she spin around, her red hair looking like a crown of flames. "I hope you cut those fucking puppet strings before they strangle you, Regulus. I really do."

    And she slammed the door.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

By the time their conversation was over, it was past curfew, but Juliet found herself wandering around all the same. Although she didn't have any one place in mind, she ended up dangling her legs over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. Her earlier anger had dissipated into a strange heaviness that she couldn't quite place, one that was pressing down on her chest like dumbbells. She wondered if it could be guilt.

A part of her was still anticipating . . . it. The tipping point, the breakdown, the crescendo — the moment her role in Anna's death crashed down onto her with casual cruelty. Yet, she was underwhelmed to find her breathing steady and her eyes dry.

"You're not going to jump, are you?"

Twisting around, Juliet grimaced at the sight of James Potter folding a piece of parchment up. Per usual, his hair was as messy as his heart. Since she couldn't will herself invisible, she remained quiet, staring blankly into the night. She wasn't in the mood for their usual back and forth.

He took her silence as an invite to sit down. "I know, I know, my good looks are killer —"

    "You're so full of yourself," she laughed in spite of herself. It was the kind of delirious and vibrant laughter that could only be heard from Juliet when she was caught off guard.

    "But you laughed." James would never admit how proud he was that he made her laugh. "On a serious note, I've come to realise that I don't hate you as much as I thought and I'd be rather sad if you died."

     "Thank you?" The inflection in her voice made it more of a question. "I honestly didn't think you could be serious."

     Somehow, James was both hesitant and resolute when he responded, "Well, a thirteen year old died."

    "Fourteen next month," Juliet added softly

     "Remus told me what you did for those kids," the Gryffindor mentioned. "That was . . . really cool of you. And I'm — I'm sorry for what I said about you being self-serving and a coward and —" James ran his hands through his hair, nervous. "Merlin, apologising is hard. But, afterwards, I realised how unfair I was being. I was being every bit as prejudiced and stupid as I was accusing you of being. I've always taken my parents for granted, I've never known the same stuffy pureblood upbringing as you, so —"

"You normally don't insult the person you're apologising to," mused Juliet. "But you don't need to continue. You were right — I am self-serving and I embody as many negative traits of Slytherin as I do good ones. It's hard to be a Slytherin when you're pigeonholed as bad, but it's even harder when you realise that those people are right. I am bad. I stood by and watched Anna die."

To Juliet's surprise, James listened to her, never once interrupting like she had expected. "You can replay what happened a thousand times and it won't change anything, Juliet." Everything about James Potter was steadfast, even his words of advice to a snake going through a morality crisis. "Focus on what you did do instead of what you didn't do, or you'll drive yourself mad."

     The blunt comment wasn't meant to be unkind, but it still made Juliet bristle.

"For the record, I don't think you're a bad person. I think bravery looks different on everyone."

Juliet swallowed. "For the record, I didn't ask for your opinion."

"You haven't walked away yet," James pointed out. "Don't tell me you're starting to like me too, Julie."

"Never call me that again."

"Sorry," he paused, "Julie."

The corner of her lips twitched. "And you've ruined the moment . . . Jamie."

Juliet would never admit how grateful she was that James distracted her that night. Nor would she ever admit how adorable he looked when he scrunched up his nose, or how much she was beginning to appreciate his company. If she was a dementor that sucked the life of everything and everyone, James Potter was a patronus — bursting with positive energy and encompassed by a brilliant light.

When enough time had passed, Juliet rose to leave and was about to climb down the stairs when James called, "Juliet?"

Although she huffed, she wasn't annoyed. "What, Potter?"

"Sirius lives with me."

"Um, well, thanks. At least I know where to address my love letters now."

"No, I mean —" James didn't want to shatter their tentative peace, so fumbled over his words as he continued, "If it ever gets too much for you with your parents, you're welcome to come mine for Christmas. Like Sirius."

Startled at the invite, Juliet almost tripped and grappled to regain her cool exterior. "You need to take me out on a date before I meet your parents," she shouted back, "but I appreciate the offer all the same."

On that note, she retreated down the stairs, feeling lighter than she had previously and found herself smiling when a pleasant tingle on her palm saw the address of Potter Manor inked in chicken scratch handwriting.

Perhaps James Potter wasn't that bad after all.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

A.N: Another update? I know, I know! The response to the last chapter made me really happy and I decided to write this one, which had some angst and some fluff. However, this isn't going to be a fast burn romance and the events of this chapter only mean a tentative friendship has been established. I don't want anyone to think I'm rushing it when Juliet has baggage to work through. This is also unrelated but I decided 'Ivy' by Taylor Swift is going to be very relevant song for Jules too if anyone wants to give it a listen. I always ramble in these notes but I'm excited to get this chapter up and it's late, so this will need an extra proof read tomorrow still.

Next chapter will be Christmas break with the Fawleys. As always, votes and comments are appreciated and please check out my Fred fic if you like my writing style.

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