Antlia stared up at the cottage, a cloak pulled tightly over her head. It was Christmas Eve, and most people were at home, curled up besides warm fires, and laughing over old stories and memories. That had never happened at the Avery house. Even before her mother died, the Avery house had always been cold. The three of them would sit around the last vestiges of a fire, embers that didn't give off heat. Arcturus would stew in his anger at the world, and Cassiopeia would pull Antlia onto her lap, smooth her hair down, and send her off to bed. Three turned to two and there was no one to hold Antlia when her father got upset. Antlia was left alone.

The house before her was nothing like the cold one that Antlia had left. Light spilled out from the windows, and she could hear laughter and murmurs coming from inside. They sounded happy as if they didn't have a care in the world. The Potter house was lit up and bright, and it was a struggle to convince herself to go in. She knew what she would find there, Dumbledore had told her so, but she didn't want to interrupt their merriness.

She took a deep breath, steeled her nerve, and knocked on the door. It took a few moments, there were a few creaking steps, and the door swung open. Light washed over Antlia and she winced at the sudden brightness hitting her eyes, moving up a hand to block it.

Sirius Black had opened the door. There were Sirius' friends, and to Antlia's surprise, Lyra. A hush swept over the room inside as they realized who was at the door. Several people scrambled towards the back door of the room, their eyes wide with fear at the sight of her.

She hated the fact that her mere presence was enough to strike fear. Her last name, her house, all of it led to the panic that stained the faces of the Order members in the Potter house. Fear was like a disease, it was infectious. It got into every little nook and cranny of a being, piling up and up until she couldn't take it anymore.

The silence was a spell, falling over everyone in the room. No one dared to break it, their hearts jumping in their throats, waiting, waiting, waiting, there it was. A gasp. Sirius had snapped out of his stupor. His face morphed into surprise, emotions flicking like turning a page.

"Antlia?" Her name was a question out of his mouth, beautiful and painful. "What are you doing here? This is..." he trailed off, not wanting to reveal what the true meaning of the gathering. It looked like a meeting among friends, reveling in holiday cheer, but it went much deeper.

"I know what this is." Antlia's voice was firm and steady. She had a purpose, her heart pulsing with the fear that invaded her body against her will.

"But, you-" Sirus began, confusion in his scrunched up face. Before he could get any further, a man with sweeping robes and a long white beard stepped out from behind the back door. Dumbledore had arrived.

"Ms. Avery," Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you for joining us tonight." He turned to the non-Order members in the room, his smile never slipping. "Ms. Avery is my guest tonight."

"Lia, is this true?" Sirius asked. Antlia could phsycially see the decision-making process go down in his eyes. He could let her go without a fight, ask her later, or he could ask her to tell him now, in front of everyone. And Antlia was pleading with her own eyes, to let her go. She was telling him without words, because words could lie. But it was much harder to lie with your eyes. They say that eyes are the window to the soul, and for Sirius and Antlia with each other, they were. They couldn't fake what they were feeling with their eyes. Their eyes would always call out to each other, lingering.

Without an answer, Antlia swept past everyone in the room to the back door with Dumbledore, with Sirius behind her.

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Antlia sat ramrod straight in a cushy armchair. It was designed for comfort, but she was never a girl who relaxed. It reminded her of the Death Eater meeting, except, it wasn't. No one was plotting to murder someone here. They were trying to protect, to save. It was a different feeling in the air. She was the only one with the posture of a Pureblood. People were slouched in their chairs, one girl even had her legs slung over the side. Antlia couldn't even imagine sitting like that in private. The posture was only one thing that had been drilled into her by her father over the years. She couldn't get rid of it, it was too ingrained into her being, like so many other habits that she had. She had been broken down and then built back up again.

Order members kept sneaking glances at Antlia, their faces full of distrust. It didn't matter how many times Dumbledore said that she was invited there by him, they would never trust a snake. And she resigned herself to that fact, begrudgingly accepting it. She didn't want to try to change the minds of people who would never budge from their stance. People didn't trust easily in the days of deception.

Dumbledore led the meeting. Antlia learned more about the Order's movements, keeping quiet until it was her turn to speak. She filed away her thoughts for later, biting her tongue whenever an order member made a snide remark about her. Her eyes were daggers at them.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, Ms. Avery would like to say a few words." He moved aside from the front of the room, waving Antlia towards it. She pushed herself up from her seat, walking slowly. One foot in front of the other, she made her way. It ached, the way their gazes grated on her.

"You all know who I am," Antlia began. Her words were measured and steady, stilted at "But if you don't, I will introduce myself. My name is Antlia Avery, and my father is Arcturus Avery, Death Eater and right-hand to Lord..." Her voice trailed off, not being able to bring herself to force her mouth to make the sounds for the name. Words had power, and Voldemort's symbolized fear.

One particularly indignant member stuck his hand in the air. His brightly dyed hair flopped over one eye, a Gryffindor tie tied loosely around his neck. He looked right out of Hogwarts, young and arrogant. "Why are you here? And how do we know that we can trust you?" His tone was poking, meant to rile her up.

Antlia took a deep breath. She yanked her sleeve up, to reveal a pale, milky-white forearm, unmarked and smooth. She felt coiled into herself, a ball of energy begging for release. Her voice came out forceful, angry. "This is why. Because I said no when I was offered the Dark Mark. Because I said no to serving a murderer. Because I said no, just like you all did. I know what it feels like to have the Dark Lord staring down on you, breathing down your neck, and it is the worst thing in the world. I know what it feels like to have your body screaming in pain while someone laughs. I know what it feels like, and I don't want anyone else to ever have to feel that again." She exhaled, fixing her gaze on the man that had asked the question. "Any more questions?" The man shook his head, stunned into silence.

There was the spell again, broken this time by Dumbledore. "Thank you." He guided Antlia back to her seat, her body collapsing into it gratefully. "Ms. Avery is going to help us." And that was all that he said on the matter.

Antlia sat exhausted in her chair, all of the force taken out of her. She closed her eyes and listened to the meeting, visualizing the explanation that she would give her father when she got back. At least she wouldn't have to lie, she had been with Lyra, in the same house if not together.

She kept her eyes closed until the end of the meeting until every person other than Dumbledore had filed out the door past her.

"Antlia," he said gently. "The meeting is over, are you awake?"

She opened her eyes, staring right at Dumbledore. "I was awake the entire time." She adjusted her position in the chair, going back to the straight-backed posture. "Professor, they hate me. They are never going to trust me."

Dumbledore smiled sadly at the girl. "My dear, they don't need to trust you. They only need to know that you are on our side. You don't have to be friends, but they do have to be your allies."

Antlia took his words, and she held them close to her heart. She pushed herself to a standing position, hesitating in the middle of the doorway. All the heads in the room turned towards her. Antlia locked eyes with Sirius, pleading again for him. Pleading for him to come with her, pleading with him to go without a fight. And he did, because Sirius Black was a fighter, but not with Antlia. They would struggle with their peers, with their family, but never with each other. They were the neutral ground, where fights occurred but didn't leave gaping wounds.

For once in his life, Sirius seemed to be at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and gave Antlia the gaze that caused all the girls to swoon over him. The smoldering eyes, he liked to call them. Dark and smokey, they made Antlia's insides feel gooey. She shook her head, mentally berating herself. Now was not the time to think about how Sirius made her feel warm and mushy. Her father had said that love was a weakness, and she couldn't afford to be weak.

"Hey, Sirius, stop giving me those eyes. They're distracting me," Antlia snapped at him. She was seated in the same cushy armchair as she had been before, across from him.

Sirius smirked. "I'm distracting?" He drawled out, his eyes only growing more pronounced, an action done on purpose.

Antlia rolled her eyes. She was grateful for the gentle teasing, the respite from the heavy topics that she was going to have to discuss with him later. "Shut up, will you? I need you to cast that spell that James likes to do. The muffling one?" she said.

"Will do, sweetheart." The cocky attitude was back from Sirius, bringing a smile to Antlia's face. It meant that his light hadn't been diminished by his parents. It meant that there was still hope for him yet. Sirius cast the spell, tucking his wand back into his pocket.

"I imagine that you have many questions," Antlia began, and Sirius nodded. "And I can't answer them all, but I can answer some."

"Lia, I need to know, are you a," Sirius' voice trailed off, not even wanting to speak the words into existence. If he said it, it would suddenly become all that much more real.

Antlia shook her head, dark tresses of hair flying around. Again, she pulled up her dark green sleeve, showing off her un-marked arm. "No, I convinced him not to give it to me." She didn't need to say who he was, the knowledge hung in the air between them, palpable.

"That's my girl." Sirius grinned, and Antlia felt warmed again at his words.

"This doesn't change anything at school," were her next words, and both of their smiles faltered. "I wish it did, but it doesn't. We still have to hate each other." Her words took on a wistful tone, her mind going far away, to a place where people weren't out to get each other. A place where people were kind.

"I know, but now I know right?" Sirius shrugged, pushing himself off to the wall to go to Antlia. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into him. Antlia sighed into the embrace, relaxing her posture.

Antlia felt safe in Sirius' arms, one of the only places that she did. She would stay in his arms all day if she could, safe and warm. But life gets in the way, and it pulls them apart.

Author's Note

So, this chapter is one of my longest yet! I hope that you like it! Thank you for reading!

- Nicole