starin' at the ceiling with you
oh, you don't ever say too much
and you don't really read into
my melancholia

❈

Celeste stormed out the front door, ignoring Sirius' half-hearted calls of protest behind her. She was currently fed up of men and their insufferable opinions on her life. If Sirius were here to call her out, she would break — more fragile than a hairpin trigger.

Almost exactly a year ago, she had stood on Platform 9 ¾ for the very first time. She remembered the strangers who had gawked at her like a circus attraction. She remembered feeling embarrassed for the first time. When she had stood before the entire Order being mocked, the feeling hadn't been so different. Only this time, it was so much worse. It was angrier; humiliating.

"Celeste," Sirius said, with an irritated edge to his voice. "Just stop walking."

Holding her breath, she turned. The expression on his face was becoming a familiar and frequent sight. Celeste exhaled, understanding that they were about to fight. Again. "What?" she tried to say harshly. Her voice tumbled out more weakly than she anticipated.

Sirius didn't seem to notice. And if he had, he didn't care. "What's going on with you?" he demanded. "You can't just say those things to bloody Dumbledore."

She almost stopped breathing, eyes wide as she scoffed, "What? You're taking his side?"

"Well you weren't exactly being fair," he answered with an arrogant eye roll.

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"You couldn't admit it was your fault!" Sirius burst out angrily. "You kept pushing and refusing and now look at what you did! It wasn't anyone's fault but yours. Do you realize how insane you looked? Accusing Dumbledore of all people!"

"Dumbledore," Celeste seethed. "Was ready to let all of us die that night! We're still kids, Sirius."

"That's our fucking job, Celeste," Sirius groaned. "That's what happens in every battle. We signed up for this. We should be grateful that he's back."

She clenched her hands, hardly believing her ears. "I don't want to fight with you right now."

"Oh," Sirius scoffed condescendingly. "You never do."

Celeste flinched. He spoke like her worst enemy, rather than the man she dreamed of marrying. She couldn't stand to look at him. "Why are you being like this? I thought we were finally okay."

Vibrant veins of gold and pink mauve streaked the dusky sky as the sun lowered into the horizon. A gust of autumn air flushed their faces and blew through their hair. Celeste shivered and crossed her arms.

He ignored her again. "You should probably go and apologize. Dumbledore will forgive you; I know he will."

"I think you know my answer to that."

The force of his criticizing look sent a malady upon her spirit. Her heart deflated as she understood that he would not be hearing her out. "Voldemort is after you," she said instead. Her voice had become fainter. Smaller. "I just thought you should know."

Sirius went still. He glanced down the front lawn of Potter Manor. "I could care less. He can come if he wants. I'll be ready."

"Okay," Celeste said. She looked away from him, trying to salvage anything she could say to fix their argument. She wracked her brain, desperate for something. But her anguish was met with silence.

The sun was almost below the horizon now. The last bits of gilded light screamed to be seen, escaping through the final cracks of day. Celeste took a shaking breath and told him, "I'm going home."

Home. She recalled a lousy divination class from almost exactly a year ago, where she invented an arbitrary prophecy of herself chasing a black dog and going home. Celeste wondered how much of the class assignment was true.

Sirius watched her apprehensively. "Which one?"

You! Celeste wanted to scream. She wanted to rip her hair apart and scream and sob at him. He was her home. Though maybe he didn't think the same of her.

"Do you still want me around?" she asked helplessly, palms open.

His gaze bore into her, somehow cruel and wary. "I always want you."

Once upon a time, Celeste would've smiled. But she didn't want to anymore. She gave him a slight nod and turned to leave.

"I can go with you if you'd like."

Celeste paused and didn't bother to look back. "You should go back inside."

"I'll go with you," Sirius said firmly. "They wouldn't kick me out too."

She swallowed. "I know," Celeste said under her breath. She held out her arm for him and waited for him.

Sirius looped his arm around hers. In the blink of an eye, they apparated home.

They didn't speak after the front door shut behind them. Sirius shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair and trudged to the living room. He slumped onto the couch and turned on the muggle television.

Celeste shut herself in the bathroom.

The dim, yellowed lights flickered on and the faint hum of the ventilation fan followed. She stared at her flushed face in the mirror, her gaze trailing lower to her extravagant emerald gown.

She had always felt strange in Sirius' flat. Like she was outdated and didn't belong. For so long, she had desperately tried to ignore these thoughts, tried to fit herself into the same world as her friends. It was obvious now.

They had always eyed her clothing and judged her opulent manners like an esoteric joke. They had always teased her for it, as though she were purposefully ostentatious. Every single mistake she made was always rooted in her bloodline and heritage, as though she wasn't her own person.

Dumbledore, Moody, and Kingsley were the only people brave enough to be honest to her face about it. But the rest of them?

They expected good purebloods to be duplicates of James or Sirius. To be rebellious and hateful towards their own people, and to worship Dumbledore. And because of her relationship with Sirius, she was meant to be an even greater example of goodness.

But she wasn't a good person.

Celeste dug through the drawers for her expensive skincare. She washed her face clean of makeup and sighed heavily. After patting her face dry, she charmed the rest of herself clean and left the room.

As she trudged to the bedroom down the hall, the faint murmuring of voices and a bright glow came from the living room. She left the bedroom open behind her, too tired to care. Her gown pooled to the cold floor as she stepped out of it, wrapping herself with a honeydew-colored robe. The cool silk stung against her warm skin.

She had spent many nights in this room in order to evade Evan. In the beginning, it had been exhilarating for her and Sirius. They had spent weeks tangled together in the sheets, whispering sweet nothings to each other. It had felt like they were a real couple, with romance existing for a while.

But time and bloodshed had dragged the two apart. There was only silence now. The empty holes that remained now ached in her chest.

Celeste slipped into the bed, not bothering to cover herself with the blankets. It was far too early to sleep, but she had nothing else to do. A tear trickled from her eye. And then another.

It took Sirius a while to hear the faint crying coming from the bedroom. His eyes widened. Celeste hardly ever cried.

Clenching his jaw, he raised the volume on the television, trying to drown her out. He glued his eyes to the screen, though he wasn't really paying attention. It was something about James Taylor or Bruce Springsteen performing at Madison Square Garden today.

A part of him felt guilty for lashing out at her. But she didn't deserve his sympathy. She had just committed murder and then yelled at Dumbledore, for crying out loud! Celeste deserved his anger, after everything he'd done for her. She had gone bloody insane.

He felt himself losing her. She was changing into a person that he didn't recognize. During Hogwarts, she'd been relaxed and fun. She liked to tease and crack jokes, even if they were bad. To spare her any embarrassment, he'd laughed at every single one.

Celeste Malfoy wasn't a killer. The woman he dreamed of marrying didn't delight in causing suffering. That had been another person.

Sirius turned off the television, and darkness flooded the room at once. Celeste's crying had either ceased or was too quiet to hear now.

He stood from the couch and slowly walked into the bedroom. Celeste was curled up on the bed, the thin robe barely covering her decently. The silk hitched dangerously up her thighs. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was heavy.

Sirius climbed in beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. On instinct, she moved closer to him and melted into his touch. Sirius shut his eyes and tried to ignore his lingering thoughts.

After a while, Celeste's quiet voice broke through the silence. "I miss you."

His eyes opened and found her eyes glassy and her lips parted. She was staring at the ceiling, a melancholia clouding her expression. Sirius stared at her, not quite understanding what she meant or why she was acting so strange.

He shifted his gaze towards the blank ceiling, seeing the darkness cast hazy shapes of dark lavender and blue-grays.

"I'm right here," he murmured.

-

Celeste had never been to a cemetery before. She stood between Selene and Regulus, ignoring the light sprinkle of rain that sprayed against her face. Stone-faced and silent, she stared ahead at the crowd gathered around her father's grave.

It was supposed to be a grand thing. Small marble statues of angels guarded the tall tombstone, brandishing a pair of crossed silver wands over it. White peonies bloomed all around. It was imposing and impressive. But Celeste's father had never been either of those words.

Her sister was crying quietly at her left. Celeste glanced at her, finding it odd. She had never known the man. Antares Malfoy had been absent all her life, living in the shadow of his wife and cowering at the glimpse of her sharp glare. He was the weakest of them.

"I'm sure he's in a better place now," Regulus said, trying to console Selene.

Selene nodded and sniffled, wiping her tears away with a silk handkerchief. "I hope so," she murmured. "He never liked living in this war."

Celeste's mouth tightened, irked by her sister's words. "Life is war. At least for us. He never quite fit in."

Neither of them could argue. Instead, the three of them fell silent, watching as the crowd slowly dispersed away. Celeste watched Narcissa lovingly loop her arm through Lucius' and dissapparted away. Her chest hurt at the sight.

"Where's Evan?" Selene asked. "Did you not come together?"

"I came on my own," Celeste answered, playing with her ruby necklace. "He has business with the Dark Lord."

Regulus slightly flinched, but did not speak.

Selene frowned. "That's rather rude of him."

"I don't care for his matters and he does not care for mine," Celeste said shortly. "He has no business being here, anyways."

"But he's your husband!" her younger sister protested.

"And?"

Selene looked troubled and confused. As though a husband was supposed to dote and follow his wife around like a dog. Celeste didn't have time to explain it. "It's fine. I don't care and nobody else has noticed."

Selene went quiet for a while. "I didn't know you disliked Evan. He seems perfectly fine. In fact, it seems perfectly easy to love—"

"Stop!" Celeste finally snapped. "Don't speak of things you clearly don't understand."

"Don't talk to me that way! I'm only a year younger than you."

"And one year ago," Celeste hissed. "I was the most foolish person to live. So drop it." Anger boiling in her blood, she turned and left.

The cemetery was grassy and dotted with white wildflowers. Celeste struggled to trek through the tall grass with her black gown and eventually began to slow. After a minute or so, she heard a familiar voice.

"Celeste!" Regulus said, jogging up her. He lowered his voice. "You still see Sirius, don't you?"

She could only turn and stare in disbelief. "How do you know?"

He pointed at the ruby choker at her throat. "Sirius got you that during Hogwarts. I remember."

"Oh," Celeste whispered hoarsely. It was one of the countless gifts he had showered upon her in the beginning. "That's right."

Regulus said nervously, "Is he doing okay?"

She smiled briefly. "He's.. going to be alright. I think he misses you."

He snorted. "Sure. Just like you're so hard on Selene."

"I'm not hard on her," Celeste said with a scowl. "She's just being an annoying sibling. She's usually even more pestering." She tried to say this lightheartedly like a joke, but it came out far more grimly.

"She just wasn't forced to grow up the way you were. She's lucky for that."

The words hit her chest like a train. She looked away and sighed. "Sometimes I resent her for that. But it's not her fault."

"It's not your fault either. I'm sorry about you and Rosier."

Celeste finally laughed. She smiled, though the joy did not quite reach her eyes. "Me too, Reggie. Thanks for this. He really does miss you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

i doubt i'll be able to finish this story before my summer trip, but i'll def try!! my finals are also next week so i'll be dead silent until after.

thank you for waiting so long!! you have no idea how much i appreciate it. and thank you for 70k!!

always, aria <3