Chapter 6
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THE MOON WAS STILL HIDING BEHIND CLOUDS. Although, it wasn't bright and full anymore, allowing even less light to illuminate the night.

Bertha Jorkins walked restlessly down the streets, trying her best to appear inconspicuous but only succeeding halfway. Her black jacket may have helped to conceal her in the dark, but her enormous pointy hat, one she refused to abandon, made her stand out.

Bertha hurried, disliking being out at night so long. She clung to her wand, wrapping it underneath her coat to hide it. With heavy steps, she walked to the inn, speeding up when she felt someone follow her.

Silently, she cursed herself for choosing this place as her holiday destination, only to remember later that men were creepy in all countries. It wouldn't have made a difference had she chosen another country besides Albania. Unfortunately, going out in the dark by herself was a mistake, either way.

The footsteps behind her felt closer. Bertha somehow felt a presence right at her feet, freezing her in her spot. The stout woman slowly glanced behind, checking if the person was anywhere near her.

There was no one there. Bertha didn't see anyone, but she did hear something hiss at her, the sound slowly turning into a screech before a loud bang resonated through the empty streets.

Bertha almost jumped, but she held her breath, taking her wand out completely. The Ministry employee could feel her heart rate speed up. She turned a corner sharply, hoping to lose her stalker.

She kept her eyes behind her as she stepped into the alley. Bertha was so caught up in ensuring no one would catch her from the back she didn't notice when she stepped on something soft until it was too late. This time, the same screech made her jump.

She finally looked in front.

It was a cat. Bertha had stepped on its tail.

"Oh!" She felt relief wash over her. Bertha released a long breath. "Thank the Heavens! I thought I was a goner!"

Laughing heartily, she shook her head as though she had been silly. Bertha looked down at the cat, which calmly sat there like it didn't have a foot on its tail.

Bertha couldn't make out the colour of its fur, the lack of light encompassing both of them in complete darkness. She could only see the silhouette of a feline.

The woman crouched down, casting lumos with her wand. Magic finally brought light to the scene, revealing an adult white cat.

There was no grime nor dirt on the animal. Neither the paws nor the ears were unclean. The milky coat was clear of filth, smoothly brushed down all over except for the neck, where a wound stuck out like a blunt nail. The colour of blood was a stark contrast with the white coat.

Bertha gasped. "Oh, your poor thing! Who did this to you?"

The cat didn't budge. Head held high, back straight, it stared right at the woman with gleaming red eyes.

Above them, the shrinking moon stayed hidden.

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It wasn't so hard to believe that the world was divided into two. It was what Sirius witnessed growing up, it was a sentiment that followed him until the end of the war.

His family was on one side, and James' on the other. A very clear distinction.

It wasn't until he threw one last glance at his brother as the last drop of hope vanished from his eyes that Sirius questioned his belief.

That doubt turned to steel only years later, when the Ministry threw him in Azkaban as Dumbledore watched.

Sirius knew his belief had been a childish one. There were too many hues of grey in the sea of black. He had seen it even among his own family. Doubts that plagued him since his teenage years were only reinforced as the years passed. There was no longer a distinction to be made between good and bad.

Maybe there never was.

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Sirius watched his god kids, the remnant of his panic lingered, refusing to dissipate. Specks of anxiety clung to his shoulders like unwelcome shadows, but the man was unable to wash it off. He was too attached to the familiar feeling.

His eyes refused to leave the bandages wrapped around Adhara's arms; her hands clenched so firmly that Sirius feared her nails would rip through the gauze.

Harry sat in front of her, watching her intently. Unlike Sirius, who was too consumed with fear to find his usual mask of anger, Harry had no trouble letting his anger show.

His godson heaved in a deep breath. Finished with his shouting, with his crying, he was left with nothing else to say. However, he still remained angry because that was a trait he shared with Sirius: raging against the world when it got too unfair.

Harry was angry, but no words were exchanged between both teens. Maybe it was because they were aware of Sirius' presence outside the room. Or maybe they just didn't know what to say.

Adhara, on the other hand, wore a blank mask. She revealed nothing. If it wasn't for her shaking fingers that were curled tight, Sirius wouldn't be able to tell she was troubled.

There was a scar on her neck, almost like a fissure on her mask. Sirius wondered if it would reveal anything.

Adhara was hard to read. Regulus was hard to read, too, but there was a time when he wasn't. A time when his little brother would look at him with his big grey eyes, and Sirius instantly knew what went on inside his head. No words were necessary.

But that was before. Before...well. Before everything.

Sirius stepped away, leaning against the wall. He let his eyes slip shut. Adhara's vacant eyes lingered in his mind. It amazed him just how much she reminded him of Regulus sometimes. Every time he looked at her, Sirius was hit with a pang of guilt.

For failing her, for failing Regulus. Guilt, pain, dread. A bitter taste on his tongue. The throbbing in his head was becoming louder and louder, and he didn't know what he had to do to diminish it.

A brother he killed. A child he let down.

Sirius managed to do that twice.

"Sirius."

He didn't bother with pleasantries.

"I want to sue Aleyne," Sirius declared.

He failed Regulus once. And now, he did the same with Adhara.

"What?"

However, unlike Regulus, Adhara was here. Sirius still had time to make things right.

"She did that to her. I'm not about to let her get away with it."

There was once a time when Sirius would do anything to separate himself from his last name.

Remus didn't say anything for a while. He joined Sirius on the floor, keeping his voice down.

"We ought to talk to the Grangers. Adhara will feel much more comfortable here. She's stayed with them before."

Sirius sighed. "I failed her, Remus."

"You didn't kn—"

"That never mattered. I failed her. But, I'm not about to stand idle and do nothing. I'm taking down Aleyne. It's the least I can do."

But with his name came power. And power seemed to be quite useful.

"You're really going to press charges, then?"

"The Ministry wrongfully imprisoned me for twelve years. They kind of owe me a thing or two."

Defiance. Black. It was all the same anyway.

"And besides," Sirius continued, "didn't you know, dear Moony? I'm the Head of the Ancient House of Black. They have no choice but to listen to me."

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"And I know I'm asking a lot, but Adhara isn't very comfortable with me, yet. And with everything that happened—"

"Sirius—"

They were in the den. The kids were still upstairs, but they were talking now so Sirius and Remus left. They found Hermione's parents downstairs and Sirius thought it best to talk to them as soon as possible.

Remus sat on a couch in the back, listening. Or, more like moral support for his partner.

"— we'd be more than happy to have Adhara," finished Harold Granger. "She's practically family already."

The Grangers were a sweet family, Remus remarked. Very accepting of their daughter's ability, very protective of her, too. And it seemed like that feeling extended to her friends.

"Hermione writes to us about her friends, almost daily. I feel as though I've already met them all." Jean Granger was on the loveseat with her husband. She stood and joined Sirius when the man started to talk, her concern evident. "It must be a very difficult time for you all."

"How is she, now?" asked Harold.

Sirius glanced at Remus. "Calmer now. More present. But she still won't talk."

Jean sighed, clearly troubled. She looked at her husband, who seemed to have guessed her thoughts.

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Jean."

Remus couldn't help but speak up. "What do you mean?"

Harold hesitated, but Jean decided to explain.

Jean took a deep breath. "Adhara stayed with us last Christmas. We noticed a scar on her neck and that she always wore gloves. We suspected something might be wrong, but —"

"— we never asked her about it," Harold finished, his voice filled with regret. "We should have spoken up."

"Oh, we shouldn't have hesitated back then," Jean said, her voice breaking slightly.

Sirius stepped forward to console her. He looked back at Remus, who gave him a reassuring nod.

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Harry had calmed down. Adhara had also calmed down from the looks of it. Her hands, although still tense, weren't curled into fists.

Neither of them spoke a word. Sirius left long ago, so there wasn't anything stopping them.

Harry was conflicted. He was glad, of course. Relieved that his sister finally escaped the clutches of that orphanage. He wasn't happy, however, about the injuries that resulted from the escape.

It was just that — well —

Adhara had said his name. She said Harry when they were in the Furnace Room. Right before she declared that she wanted to come here, to Hermione's house. Not with them, with Harry to the cottage.

And it made him wonder, was he the reason Adhara didn't want to stay with Sirius? It made an awful lot of sense, though, didn't it? Sirius was her uncle, not his. And yet, there he was, living in that cottage, taking up Adhara's spot as though he mattered.

How could she trust him?

Harry knew he was being selfish, still. Adhara just escaped her abusive home, and Harry was still making this about him. About how he felt, about how he wasn't trustworthy.

Last summer, when Harry ran away from Privet Drive, the first person he thought of was Adhara.

He took the Knight Bus all the way to Aleyne because Harry trusted Adhara. She made him feel safe.

But Adhara didn't do the same. She came here. At the Grangers' home. She didn't go to him.

And as selfish as it made him feel, he couldn't help but feel upset. Upset that he couldn't do enough to have Adhara trust him.

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Adhara's hands were shaking again.

Harry extended his hand, palm up.

Adhara took it without hesitating.

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Adhara wanted to leave. She wanted to stand up and barge out of the bedroom, finding a quiet place where she could be on her own.

Hermione understood Adhara's need for distance. Millicent, on the other hand, has been bombarding her with questions since she arrived.

Adhara left Aleyne. It was done. That part of her life was over, now. Sure, living with the Grangers wasn't a permanent solution, but she could worry about that later. What mattered was that Matron wasn't a problem anymore.

Yet, people didn't seem to think the same way. Mione informed her that she overheard the adults talk about pressing abuse charges. And Adhara couldn't understand that.

She already left the place. Why couldn't they just move on?

Mione stayed beside the door, watching over the other two girls silently. They had to kick Harry out of the room when Millie showed up because the boy refused to leave Adhara's side. The three girls needed to talk among themselves, and that required privacy.

"Why didn't you tell us anything?" Millicent demanded.

Adhara wanted to undo all of her bandages. She wanted to scratch at all of the scabs, peel off any skin she could pick at, and claw off everything until it was all gone. Until her hands were free of any marks.

Instead, her hands curled into fists until she couldn't feel her fingers anymore.

"Millie," called Hermione. "Give her space. She doesn't want to talk right now."

Adhara stubbornly kept her eyes on her lap so she couldn't see the blonde's expression.

"Yeah?" Millie started, her voice low. "Perhaps, that's the problem. She never talks."

"Mil-"

Adhara picked at the frayed edges of the bandage around her thumb. It was already almost all off.

"We could've done something years ago if you just told us. Why didn't you say anything?"

Adhara groaned, not looking up. Why couldn't they just let this go? It was over anyway.

"Adhara-"

"Because it isn't any of your business." Her voice came out all scratchy. Adhara's throat burned from misuse, she couldn't help but cough once she finally spoke.

She felt the bed move as Millicent got off.

"Millie!"

But the girl had already left.

Adhara didn't call for her, she didn't even look in her direction. She tried to clear her throat, but the coughing fit wouldn't stop.

The bed dipped once more as Hermione took Millicent's spot.

She brought a glass of water close to Adhara's mouth. "Here, let me help."

"I can do it myself." Adhara wrapped both her hands around the glass, determined. But the second Hermione let go, Adhara's hands started to shake. She had to rest the glass on the bed to avoid spilling all the water.

She couldn't help but glare at her hands.

Hermione took the glass out of her loose grip, bringing it back to Adhara's mouth.

"There's nothing wrong with asking for help. We all care about you, Adhi. We want to help." Hermione spoke so softly that Adhara was sure she wouldn't have known the girl was talking if she wasn't sitting right in front of her.

Frowning still, she downed the water.

Once the glass was emptied, Hermione put it aside. She reached for the first aid kit.

Adhara licked her lips. "You don't need to do that. I can take it myself just fine."

Hermione gave her an unimpressed look. Without bothering to ask, she snatched one of Adhara's hands, ready to peel off the crumbling bandages to redo them.

Adhara tried to pull back, but Hermione held on tight.

"I can do it myself —"

"But you won't, and that's the problem." She fixed her with a glare.

Adhara couldn't look away. "Hermione —"

"No! Adhara, I. I don't know if you do this from lack of trust or simply because of pride. But I need you to understand that you aren't alone anymore, Adhi. You have people who care and love you and want you to stay safe."

She waited for Adhara to reply, but the girl remained quiet.

Hermione sighed. "When. When you found out about how Harry's family treated him, you wanted to help, right?"

Adhara's head snapped up. "How did you —"

"He told me. Now, answer me. You wanted to help him, no?"

"Obviously."

"So, why is it so hard to understand that people want to do that for you, too?"

Adhara swallowed down, looking away. "You don't need to do that."

"Neither do you for Harry. But that never mattered, did it?"

Adhara didn't answer.

She heard Hermione take another exasperated breath.

"I'll finish with your bandages, and then I'll be off. I'll talk with Millie, alright?"

Unable to speak, Adhara could only nod.

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A/N Hey guys! Just to let you all know, I posted Ginny's POV on this story! It's called Uncontrollable. So far only year 1 is out, but I'd appreciate it if you gave it a look!

Thank you :)