As usual - Notes at the end so I don't disrupt your reading after my extended hiatus. Enjoy and LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK PLEASE!

TW: Mentions of blood.

"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone."

- John Steinback, The Winter of Our Discontent

Chapter 52 – Return to Rhyther Manor

Grimmauld Place shook with the hair-raising shrieks of a woman. In the house, the three residents had taken to standing before the portrait of Walburga Black, examining her with a critical eye.

"Does she do that a lot?"

Sirius nodded nonchalantly, undaunted in the face of terror. "It's almost like I can't begin my day without hearing such inspirational words."

"YOU TRAITOROUS VERMIN! YOU DARE REMOVE ME FROM MY OWN HOUSE? I am all that is left of this sacred line of Black and you dare to defile my legacy! I WILL NOT LET YOU!"

Zara looked from the woman in the portrait to her two descendants. Ankaa and Sirius were entirely indifferent to her rage and continued examining the portrait with equal looks of apathy.

"Well, not to point out the painfully obvious, but there's little else you can do except yell at us. And even that's getting old at this point."

The woman's lips twisted in an unnatural snarl. "Do not speak to me bloodtra—"

"Now, listen here, hag—" Sirius' ignored Walburga's scathing glare, "This is my house now, and I'll do with it what I please. In fact, I think I'm going to redo the walls. Maybe even put on a fresh coat of paint here and there. Empty out the attic, put in a nice little sunlight."

"That sounds nice," Zara shared a teasing smile with him. "Might I suggest a coat of primer to start? I've recently painted my room at home so I've got loads of experience."

"I second that!" Ankaa eyed her grandmother's portrait with mirth. "And, I also think that if we can't get dear old granny's portrait down that we just paint over her as well. Do you have a colour in mind, Mrs. Black?"

Sirius crossed his arms and held one of his hands under his chin, looking as if he was deep in thought. "I think a nice coat of Shut-your-trap Black would suit her personality best."

Zara and Ankaa nodded in unison.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY! YOU WASTED INGRATE!"

"Ah, there it is," Sirius breathed in deeply over the sound of his mother shouting at him ('—BROUGHT SHAME TO THE FAMILY NAME—'). "Order has been restored to the universe."

The three of them wrestled with the curtains on Walburga's portrait, which seemed to be fuelled by her rage as she spat insult after insult at the three of them. It took the three of them nearly ten minutes to get the flailing curtains under control, grunting and groaning in misery once they finally tucked them back under her portrait. It wasn't enough to quiet the rage-monster entirely, but it muffled her voice just as well for the time being.

"Let's just knock this whole wall down," Zara huffed as she stepped back. "Take a sledgehammer and just bring the whole wall down."

One of the portraits beside Walburga's, an elderly looking man who was sat in his chair with his monocle, peered over at the three of them. "Perhaps you ought not to instigate her so," came his judgemental tone of voice. "You were rather rude, wouldn't you say?"

Ankaa turned her distasteful looking on Perseus Black, one of her great-great-great-great-great-great uncles. The man certainly looked the part; his hair was parted down the centre, and his bushy beard hid his frown from view, but the judgement in his eyes was apparent even if it was slightly hidden behind a monocle.

"Last I checked, Perseus, you weren't on a sticking charm. So unless you'd like to go to the attic, I'd suggest you keep quiet."

"Now wait just a minute!" The portrait spluttered. "Is this how you speak to your elders? Goodness me, things have really gone downhill haven't they? In my day, we purebloods had manners."

"And those days are gone, old pal," Sirius reached over and turned the portrait to face the wall. "Take a little nap, why don't you?" Turning back to the girls, he gestured to the portrait of his mother. "Any other ideas? Other than knocking down the whole wall. I'm not opposed to it, but I'd rather not get into renovating right now."

Zara deflated visibly. "That's a shame," she muttered. "I was going to suggest we have a bonfire later with the Order and roast marshmallows over your mother's screaming portrait."

Sirius and Ankaa turned to her at the nonchalance in her voice, but the girl merely shrugged with a smile.

"As amusing as that would be, that's easier said than done." Ankaa glowered at the covered portrait, "Although, at this point, I'm not opposed to setting it on fire."

Sirius shook his head immediately. "Fred and George have already tried that." When Zara looked as if she was going to question it, he explained, "It went about as well as you would think. She screamed bloody murder and tried to bring the whole house down."

"Nothing out of the ordinary then."

Over the last two weeks, Walburga Black had taken it upon herself to scream bloody murder at all hours of the night. Ankaa suspected Kreacher had helped her come up with the idea to deprive them all of sleep, given that he looked entirely too happy roaming around the house these days. Usually, he wasted no time in throwing insults at Zara, each more colourful than the last ('Filthy mudblood speaks to Kreacher, but Kreacher cannot hear her. Kreacher does not hear anyone but the noble house of Black'), but he kept himself restrained to looks of pure hatred these days. The only way they could even attempt to take down the picture today was because Sirius had sent Kreacher out on a round of errands in Diagon Alley. But he was due back soon, and if he returned to find them attempting to destroy Walburga's portrait, he would surely join her in screaming obscenities.

"Have we tried breaking the frame? What if we just slip the canvas out?"

Ankaa shook her head at her friend's suggestion. "We tried it," she told her. "The frame doesn't budge. We tried chipping it and the frame won't break. The only way is to find a way to get rid of the sticking charm."

"Bit hard to do that, isn't it? I mean… permanent sticking charm and all."

The three of them stood before the portrait, lost in thought and trying to come up with some suggestions as to what to try next. But the flurry of movement from the dining room caught their attention.

Sirius ventured inside first, creeping forward with his wand drawn only to relax at the sight of a brown owl sitting at the centre of the table. In its talons was a pristine white letter stamped with the red wax seal of Gringotts. Sirius reached for the letter and flipped it over before handing it to Ankaa.

"It's for you."

Ankaa noticed the neat scrawl of her full name on the front before opening the envelope gingerly. She glanced at the name at the bottom, finding it unfamiliar.

Dear Ms. Rhyther,

There is a matter of succession that requires your immediate attention. I am unable to disclose the details of this problem in a letter for privacy concerns, but I must ask that you attend Gringotts at your earliest convenience. Please present this letter to gain entry.

Sincerely,

Nagnok

"Well that's vague," Sirius eyed the letter distastefully over her shoulder. "What kind of matter of succession?"

Ankaa did not answer. "I've never heard of Nagnok…"

From what Ankaa had gathered from eavesdropping on her parents' conversations when she had been younger, their banking was largely managed by a middle man named Reginald Valentine. Even then, Valentine did not have to do much. The Rhyther family vault had been healthily stocked with generations worth of money and heirlooms. All Valentine had to do was keep track of the accounts between stocks and cash. Succession… was another matter entirely.

"Why don't we head over there now?" Sirius asked. "You and I can head to the bank—if you want to, that is."

"I can head to Flourish and Blotts to see if I can find something on permanent sticking charms!" Zara offered eagerly. "We can just meet up when you're done?"

In another fifteen minutes, the three of them disapparated from Grimmauld Place and into Diagon Alley. But the moment they appeared in Diagon Alley, Ankaa was taken aback. This was not the same Diagon Alley she had grown up with, not even close.

"It's so… empty." Zara glanced at the few people straggling about and peering through shop windows. "Last summer at this time there was hardly any place for us to walk. I remember I wanted to go to Florean's but the line was through the door."

Ankaa could not place what it was exactly, but there was something rather odd about Diagon Alley. The lights were dim, and the spirits were equally low. People no longer smiled at one another when they passed, but rather clutched their loved ones closer and walked faster. Fear lingered in the air, choking anyone who dared to smile or feel happy.

"Where should we meet?"

Sirius opened his mouth to reply when Ankaa interrupted.

"Sirius will go with you." At his questioning look, Ankaa elaborated. "I'm going to be in Gringotts, the most secure building in London. Go with Zara. I'll come to meet you at Flourish and Blotts when I'm done."

"Absolutely not—"

"We can't leave Zara alone," Ankaa returned vehemently.

"Then we won't go to Flourish and Blotts at all. We can always come back, or go after we're done at Gringotts." Sirius returned her steady gaze. "You're not going alone, I don't care if it's the most secure building in the world. You're not going anywhere undefended."

"Maybe she doesn't have to," Zara spoke from between the pair. "Look," she pointed, rather innocently, to a shop at the end of the Alley. Ankaa was painfully aware of where she was pointing and did not turn to look as Sirius did, and glared at Zara. "Maybe we could as Fred or George if they're free to accompany her? That way she's got someone to watch her back, and we can look for solutions?"

Sirius did not seem too appeased by the idea, and Ankaa was glad. But Zara cast one look at Ankaa and smirked before adding fuel to the fire.

"Their shop doesn't look all that busy." She stood on the tips of her toes to peer over Sirius' shoulder. "Maybe they can both go with her? Added protection, isn't it?"

Sirius looked at Ankaa. "Are you alright with that?"

"No. I don't want either of them to babysit me, thank you very much." Ankaa crossed her arms, very aware that she sounded and probably also looked like a petulant child. "At this rate, we might as well not go to Gringotts at all."

"Too late," Zara chuckled. "Hey, Fred! George!"

Ankaa whipped around to find the twins standing outside the shop, bidding farewell to their assistant, Verity. At the sound of their names, their heads snapped in the trio's direction and their hands raised in greeting automatically.

"Come on!"

Sirius watched Zara pass between the two of them with a look of amusement. "She's… quite the manipulator." The girl in question was strolling towards the two boys easily as if she had known them for years. Sirius turned back to his daughter, noticing the tension in her frame. "You don't have to do this. I can go with you to Gringotts if you want."

"What about Zara?"

"Fred and George can go with her."

Ankaa almost snorted derisively. Sirius did not know how stubborn those two could be, especially Fred. Now that Fred had seen her, Ankaa could tell he was itching to talk to her about what had happened, to see if they could resolve this awkward stalemate.

"Come on," Sirius offered her his hand. "If I'm around, I doubt Fred will want to talk about your relationship problems."

Sirius led the way over to the trio. Ankaa was aware that she was being subtly dragged by her father, but she doubted that the other three noticed. The delay in their arrival meant that Zara had the chance to paint this story however she wanted, and Ankaa had a sneaking suspicion that she had already partnered Fred with her.

"Hello Fred, George," Sirius nodded to the two of them. He glanced through the doors into the organized chaos that was their shop. "Things are looking pretty good."

George gave a bright smile. "Thought you and Remus might like to see it when you had the chance." He glanced over at Ankaa and offered her a smile, which she tried to return (seeing as she had no qualms with him, at least not as bad as with Fred). "We were wondering when you'd come by."

"Yeah, well…"

Ankaa was painfully aware of Fred staring at her. She wanted to glance his way to try and decipher whatever emotion he must have been feeling at the sight of her, but she kept her indifferent gaze on his brother instead. George only smiled good-naturedly at her, in the same brotherly way he always did, seemingly holding no ill-will towards her for ignoring the two of them since the incident.

"Well, why don't I accompany Zara to Flourish and Blotts—I'm much better at research than Fred anyway."

Of course.

Ankaa nodded at George and stepped aside as he and Zara moved past. Zara turned one more time to give Ankaa an appeasing smile that went unanswered, before heading into Flourish and Blotts with George. Watching the two of them disappear, Ankaa wondered what exactly it was about her that made people feel it was okay to force her into these situations.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Shall we head over then?"

Ugh, Merlin please strike me dead.

Ankaa spun on her heel and headed towards the marble building. She was aware of Fred and Sirius following closely behind and Sirius whispering something to Fred, who was uncharacteristically silent through it all. She wondered what was going on inside his head, and while an easy way to find out would have been to ask him Ankaa simply was not ready to face the music. What would she even say to him if he decided to talk to her?

I'm beyond infuriated with you, Fred Weasley. You denied me the right to be with my mother before she passed.

Ankaa could almost hear his reply in her head. 'I did it for you' he would say, undoubtedly. But wasn't that the case for all such acts of love? Those who do such things with the intention of protecting and avoiding harm are the ones that cause the most damage.

Would you do the same for him?

Shaking her head, Ankaa strode up the steps and into Gringotts. One quick glance behind her showed that Sirius and Fred were following behind, one looking inquisitive with the other sulked. Despite the frown on his face, Fred remained silent when he came to stand beside her at the GENERAL INQUIRIES desk. The goblin at the desk was busy scribbling something on a piece of parchment and did not bother to glance at them.

"Name?"

"Rhyther," Ankaa pulled out the letter. "I'm supposed to meet with someone—Nagnok?"

The goblin surveyed the letter before squinting at her. After a moment, he handed it back to her. "Wait here," the goblin grumbled before he disappeared behind the counter and into one of the golden doors in the back. The wait was short because a moment later the goblin appeared with another one in tow.

This one—Nagnok, Ankaa guessed—looked far more professional than the one at the desk. While all goblins at Gringotts had to follow a strict dress code of suit and tie, Nagnok looked like an elevated version of the tellers. He wore a three-piece suit with a tie, and a shimmering golden tie clip, as well as matching gold wire glasses on his hooked nose.

"Miss Rhyther," he said curtly. "This way please."

Ankaa stepped around the desk and followed after the goblin. But before they had taken even two steps, Nagnok paused.

"I'm afraid this is for family only."

Sirius and Fred stopped abruptly as the goblin at the desk raised his hand before them. The two of them eyed the goblin and then Nagnok.

"I'm her father."

"Not where policy is concerned," Nagnok replied easily. "Administrative matters concerning familial vaults and land registries fall to next of kin, as stated in official wills. Unless Miss Rhyther decrees otherwise, I cannot—"

"It's okay, they're family."

Nagnok looked from her to the two men behind her before nodding in acceptance and striding towards the door. Ankaa hesitated, wondering for a split second if it was worth it to look back and see the expressions on Sirius and Fred's faces, but her pride got the best of her and she sauntered after Nagnok quickly.

The goblin led them down a long marble passageway that was framed by frosted glass doors on either side. Each had a name and title on it that went largely unregistered as the group went further and further down the hall. Nagnok's office was at the very end, right by the circular window overlooking the rest of the city.

"As you can see," he gestured to the title on his door as he swung it open, "I am in charge of all matters concerning the succession of bank vaults and implementation of wills."

Ankaa followed him into the office, hesitating briefly when she realized what he was implying. Ankaa shared a glance with Sirius, who looked deep in thought. With a flourish of his hand, Nagnok conjured up three seats before his desk and gestured for them to sit down.

"Now," He pulled out a piece of paper from an emerald green folder, "Your father, Mr. Henry Rhyther, had some unusual requests for his properties and possessions that he listed in his will."

"I—Hang on," Ankaa frowned. "Is that why I'm here? I thought it was because of my mother."

"That is another matter, but we shall get to that later." With a flick of his hand, the piece of parchment on his desk unfolded and floated beside him. Nagnok squinted at the loopy writing and began to read it out. "Herein lies the will and testament of Henry Rhyther—"

"He's not dead," Sirius interrupted. Automatically, his hand came to clutch Ankaa's forearm, as if to let her know that he was handling this. "You can't enact a will if there's no death."

"As I stated, Mr. Henry Rhyther's requests concerning his will were usual, even by our standards." Nagnok gave Sirius a withering look, "If you would let me finish, I might be able to shed some light on as to why Ms. Rhyther has been summoned here."

When none of the trio made a move to interrupt him, Nagnok looked to the parchment again. "Where were we… ah, yes—the testament of Henry Rhyther to be enacted should a pre-determined period of ninety calendar days of no-contact come to pass. Contact between the aforementioned parties—that is, Ms. Rhyther, between your father and myself—must be conducted in-person at the premises of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, under the supervision of the Head Goblin. Should the ninety-day rule be breached, all undermentioned lists of possessions and properties shall come into direct and indisputable possession of Mr. Henry Rhyther's next of kin, Ankaa Carina Rhyther."

"What…" Ankaa swallowed roughly. "I'm to inherit something?"

Nagnok waved the piece of parchment—her father's will—towards her. "Undermentioned items in your inheritance are as follows," he read out, as if from memory, "The Rhyther family vault, as well as the Rhyther estate, in essence: Rhyther Manor and all belongings therein. Upon reception of this will, all transfer of possessions and properties in articles A and B (and excluding C) will initiate at exactly midnight on the ninety-first day of no-contact."

The parchment felt like hot coal in her hands, but Ankaa clutched the paper tightly. Ankaa skipped over all the elegant cursive and instead found her father's signature at the bottom, a neat and equally elegant HENRY RHYTHER written with a confident brush stroke.

"This is now the ninety-first day of no-contact with your father. As instructed by his will, we have passed all things mentioned therein to you."

"How long ago did he make this will?" It was the first time Fred spoke, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make Ankaa look to him in surprise.

"Last year," replied the goblin. "Following the death of his eldest. The exact date has been inscribed on the bottom."

Ankaa knew what Fred must have been thinking. It was probably what all of them were thinking: Henry had come to Gringotts every day without fail to verify the contract, but something or someone was keeping him away now. The last she had heard from her father had been right before the article in the Quibbler had been published in March, and that too had been a short and plain 'Stay safe' in his writing. If he had gone the ninety days and not shown up, something must have happened to keep him away.

"Why would he do something like this?" Ankaa turned to Sirius. "Sign away all his things like this? Especially with just ninety days of no-contact?"

Nagnok cleared his throat. "If I may," he interrupted politely, "several prominent families did have a way of ensuring the safety of their loved ones in troubling times by initiating timed enactments of wills. It was a sort of fail-safe method. Of course, such methods have been less employed in recent times and I was rather surprised at Mr. Rhyther's suggestion to do so, but it is an old practice indeed."

But in ensuring her safety, what had Henry done to his own? No one had heard from him in three months, and the timing of his disappearance was causing Ankaa far more discomfort. She was sure that Alice must have pieced things together with the article in the Quibbler and gone for Henry. What had she done, Ankaa wondered.

"What happens when he comes back?" asked Sirius.

"If—"

"When." There was no room for disagreement in Sirius' tone. Nagnok seemed offended at the hostility he was receiving, but he merely turned his brow at the man before answering.

"Should Mr. Rhyther return the possessions and properties outlined in the will still legally belong to Ms. Rhyther. The contract is binding, magical or otherwise. Your father has relinquished his right over his ancestral home as well as his familial vault. It is yours now, regardless of whatever happens to him—fortunate or otherwise."

Ankaa could feel the indignation rolling off of her companions in waves. She was surprised that Nagnok seemed undaunted by it, but she supposed given his position he was used to dealing with emotional outbursts all the time.

I'll make sure you suffer a death worse than your fathers.

Alice's words rang in her head, even as Nagnok continued speaking. He was outlining something about following protocol and visiting the Rhyther family vault once, as is customary upon acquisition. But his words were entirely lost on her. Ankaa's head was swimming with thoughts about Henry, about where he might be and what state he might be in. He had always been so kind to her, so loving. And all that remained of him now was a signature on a piece of paper where he had signed away everything he had worked so hard to get.

"… another vault mentioned in the will."

Ankaa looked to the goblin then as he pulled out a key and handed it to her.

"As stipulated in the will, vault 917 is also under your possession now. Unlike your family vault, it requires a key to access."

"Vault 917?" Ankaa's fingers moved over the etched key. "My father didn't have any other vault other than the family one."

"Vault 917 was opened quite recently," Nagnok glanced at some of the paperwork in the file. "Earlier this year, I believe. And it was subsequently added to the will as your possession upon infringement of the no-contact rule."

Why would her father open a new account when he already had one?

"I'd like to go there."

Nagnok nodded indifferently. "Any of the tellers can take you down to that particular vault. If you'd like to access the family vault, however, you will need to speak with the Head Goblin. As I'm sure you are aware, the level of security for your family vault is much more extensive than vault 917."

The three of them stood and nodded their farewell to Nagnok, who remained seated and watched them leave with his beady black eyes. Ankaa folded the will and tucked it out of sight, feeling nauseous at the mere sight of it.

"Are you alright?" asked Fred, peering over her with concern. "You're looking a little pale. Maybe we should sit down."

He tried to reach for her, to grab her by the elbow as if to steady her. But Ankaa immediately shook her head and stepped out of his reach. "I want to see the vault."

Sirius, too, eyed her with worry. "Maybe we should wait. Let's just take a breather."

It would take too much energy to argue with them, so Ankaa let them lead her over to a set of marble benches by the front door. Normally it would have irked Ankaa at the sight of the two of them standing before her, watching closely but trying to make it seem like they weren't examining her every move. But today, the key in her hand was weighing heavy on her mind.

Henry had opened vault 917 early this year, following the time she had spent with him at Malfoy Manor. It made sense; that would have been the only time he was given the freedom to leave the Manor and go about his business. Voldemort probably had him looking into breaking the prisoners out of Azkaban.

"Why would he open a new vault?" Fred wondered.

"Maybe there was something he wanted her to find? Something she couldn't have found in the family vault."

"Then why not just give it to her? Or Dumbledore? Or anyone from the Order?"

"Gringotts is relatively safe." Sirius supplied, "Maybe he did it to make sure she's the only one who ever has access to whatever's inside."

"Bill says the family vaults are much more secure. Those vaults are protected by a whole lot of spells and creatures, aren't they? So why not just leave it in there?"

Ankaa's mind immediately went to one particular memory. It was Ceph's first year at Hogwarts, and he had come home for Christmas. Before he had arrived, Ankaa, Henry, and Maya had spent a few hours wrapping the presents and placing them carefully under the Christmas tree. Amongst the presents were empty boxes which had been just as carefully wrapped and decorated, placed there in an effort to prank Ceph into choosing an empty box.

"No, no, love," Henry took the gift from her hands, "Let's put it here with the rest of them."

"But those ones are empty," Ankaa had frowned. "We should put the real gifts at the back! He won't look there!"

"And if he does, he'll find all of them at once," Henry had chuckled. He settled the gift at the front, between a few of the ones that were empty. "See, this way there's real gifts and empty ones. So regardless of where he picks a gift from, there's a chance Ceph might still pick an empty one." Seeing her confused pout, Henry had laughed before tapping her temple. "Hiding in plain sight, Ankaa. Always be one step ahead."

Ankaa found herself on autopilot then. She stood without a word and slipped from between Fred and Sirius, who were still speculating about the motivation behind Henry opening a new account. She muttered a quiet, "Wait here," before heading to the tellers. Ankaa deposited the key on the teller's desk, telling him simply, "I'd like to access my vault."

The goblin seemed surprised at her curtness but took the key nonetheless. He squeaked a simple, "Follow me, please," and led the way down the corridor and to the carts. The goblin took one of the lamps by the wall and deposited it on the back of the cart before gesturing for her to step in, following after her.

The cart gathered speed quickly and sped through passageway after passageway as the goblin expertly guided it deeper and deeper into the Earth. Ankaa had never had to venture to Gringotts to get money—it was a luxury afforded to her before every start of term. And now, feeling nauseous at the twists and turns the cart was taking, as well as the speeding scenery that all simply blurred into one single train of brown made her sure that she never wanted to venture to either vault ever again, regardless of its contents.

However, just as abruptly as it had all started, it came to a stop. The goblin jumped off first and asked her to pass the lamp. Ankaa scrambled off the cart and onto the solid stone floor. She marvelled at the intricate iron door before her, noting the numbers 9-1-7 inscribed at the very top. The goblin moved aside a plate that hid the keyhole before brandishing the key and sliding it through. The goblin trailed its hand from the centre of the door to the very bottom, and Ankaa could hear the locks coming undone on the other side.

Ankaa could almost feel herself trembling in anticipation as the door slowly swung open. The vault was small, and almost empty if not for the three notebooks placed at the very centre of it. Ankaa stepped forward gingerly and picked one of them up. The leather binding was almost familiar in her hands.

PROPERTY OF MAYA RHYTHER

Ankaa clutched the books securely and stepped out of the vault. She was aware of the goblin looking at her, but he did not seem the slightest bit curious or intrigued by what was in the vault. Ankaa supposed he must have been used to other curious things at Gringotts that three simple notebooks were of no concern to him.

"Here is your key," the goblin handed the iron key back to her. "Please step back into the cart."

The ride back was less nauseating. Ankaa could feel her hands get clammy and she clutched the notebooks tighter. She was afraid of them slipping out of her hands and getting lost in one of these passageways, never to be found again. When she stepped off the cart and onto the solid stone platform, Ankaa let out an audible sigh of relief. The goblin, once again, asked her to pass the lamp back before leading her back to the main hall.

On the other side, Sirius and Fred sat waiting anxiously at the same spot Ankaa had left them. At the sight of her, the two of them stood up and made their way over.

"What is it?"

Ankaa handed the notebooks to Sirius.

"You were right," Ankaa looked between the both of them. "Henry needed to make sure that I was the only one with access to that vault. And while familial vaults have much more security, they're also a bigger target. But this vault is one of the thousands at Gringotts… If someone was to come for these notebooks, they wouldn't know where to start looking."

Sirius was flipping through the notebooks. "But why go through all the trouble? These are just Maya's old journals—she's got them at home as well. She used to write in them every day."

"They're older journals. They're from Rhyther Manor."

"Which you've inherited as well," Fred remarked. "It seems like Henry was securing these things for you… Maybe trying to keep them safe for you?"

Ankaa dipped her head in agreement. "That's exactly what he was doing. And if he had to hide these in a vault, it means that someone else is after them too. The rest of my mother's journals are at Rhyther Manor."

"Why would he not put them in the vault?" asked Fred.

"Maybe this is all he had time to do," Sirius offered, looking at Ankaa intently. "Or these are the most important ones…"

"And he wanted to get them out of Rhyther Manor, knowing that if Alice and Joseph were able to find it once they'd probably ransack it after he was gone."

Ankaa's stomach twisted and turned uncomfortably. Her father had no doubt placed extra precautions on the Manor, but they would all vanish if he was dead.

"… what if they got their hands on her other journals?" Fred wondered, "What do we do then?"

"We have to trust Henry," Sirius answered the boy firmly. "If he had time to open another vault, it means that he had time to grab what was most important and hide it in there. He probably also knew that your grandparents would come to the Manor in an effort to get more information."

"That's the thing though," Ankaa pointed out as the three of them ambled towards the exit. "Rhyther Manor was never supposed to pass to me—It's a pureblood mansion, generations old, and so are the rules of succession—it goes to the next male heir. But if there is no next male heir—"

"Then there's no rule of succession," answered Fred. "It just becomes a regular Manor, free for the taking."

"Exactly!" Ankaa said as the three of them rounded the corner to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "And you heard what Nagnok said—Articles A and B which are the transfer of Rhyther Manor and the family vault, don't go into effect until midnight on the ninety-first day, which is today."

Sirius looked deep in thought. His fingers traced over the spine of the leather books, and he glared at nothing in particular as he thought about every possibility concerning what Ankaa was suggesting.

"You want us to go there tonight, just as it's transferred over to you?" He confirmed with her, "Knowing that Alice and Joseph might also be there ready to claim it for themselves."

"If Dad handed it over, it's probably for a reason. I'm sure there's something in there that he wants us to get that he wasn't able to do or can't get at. I don't care what old, prejudiced, pureblood laws state. It's the only chance we've got to keep it safe."

"I'm on your side, Ankaa." Sirius pursed and considered it, "I'm not sure if the Order will be."

"We can convince them," Fred said quickly. "If we get Rhyther Manor and secure it for ourselves, we might even be able to use it as another safe house for the Order. Plus, when Henry gets back, it'll be a nice welcome gift for him."

Ankaa nodded vigorously. "It's my home, Sirius. I can't let it fall into the wrong hands."

Sirius stared at her intently before letting out a breath. "Alright, alright," he grinned. "I'm always up for some insurrection if need be." He passed her the notebooks, "Take these back with Fred. I'll get Zara and George and meet you there."

"Okay," Ankaa returned his smile and grabbed the books from him. It was only when she realized what she had done that her smile tightened and she turned to face Fred again.

"We can wait here if you want—we don't have to leave. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Fred glanced down at her before looking away pointedly, squinting at something further down the alley as if he had just spotted something vaguely interesting.

You can't ignore him forever, you know, came Sirius' words. Ankaa supposed it was better for the two of them to talk in private as opposed to inflicting whatever awkwardness they felt with one another on others. But going back meant having to deal with Kreacher, who was no doubt lurking about trying to get his fill of gossip.

"I don't particularly want to go back to Grimmauld," Ankaa sighed as she sat back onto the front steps of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "But that's not because you make me uncomfortable. It's just because I don't like to see Kreacher's judgemental looks."

The corners of his mouth lifted in a slight smile as he came to join her on the steps, all the while being careful to maintain a polite distance. "Yeah, he's got a real way with those. I still remember the first time I met him—looked like he wanted to stab me with the steak knife for even speaking to him."

"He hasn't changed much then."

"I doubt he will."

The two shared a small smile. Ankaa looked away from him and towards one of her mother's notebooks as if the swirling pattern on the leather was far more interesting, but she could still feel the weight of his stare on her.

"Did you read any of the letters I wrote to you?"

Ankaa's fingers trailed over the brown cover, trying to memorize the texture. "No," she answered curtly, refusing to meet his eyes. "I didn't. I couldn't."

Ankaa heard his rich laugh. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted him stretching his legs over the steps and trying to sit in a more relaxed manner. "Probably for the best, if I'm being honest," he told her. "I wrote some of them really late at night and my writing just got worse and worse—not that it was great, to begin with, mind you. And I'm pretty sure I was rambling about mangoes in one of them."

"Oh? Got a new favourite fruit?"

Fred shook his head immediately, looking rather disturbed. "I think I just had a nightmare about them. Something about trying to use mango flavour in one of the new experiments but it backfired and all I could taste was mango for the rest of my life. And mangoes would chase me down the street wherever I went, but no one except me could see them."

"… That sounds awful." Ankaa paused, "Do you think—in your dream—when people saw you running down the street and thought, 'Wow, look at that Man-go!'"

"Probably not, because by the time they realized what was happening I was Man-gone."

The two of them shared a glance before smiling easily at one another. Ankaa was aware of how foolish she must have looked—it was the kind of smile she used to give him when he would say something inordinately flirty or funny, and her eyes would roll in annoyance but her lips would stretch in a wide smile, and her cheeks would flush. She hadn't thought she would be able to be like this with him again, not when her last memory of him was holding his wand to her stomach and leaving her frozen on the floor while her mother died.

Just the thought of it was sobering enough. Ankaa could feel the smile slipping off her face and the coldness seeping back in.

"Why did you do it?"

Fred was expecting the question because his smile vanished slightly too, but he did not seem at all daunted by the question. "I did it to protect you," he answered quietly, as if it was obvious, or should have been so. "It was the only way to guarantee your safety. I knew you wouldn't stay put otherwise, and I just couldn't take that chance. I know it was selfish of me but I've had some time to think about it and I would do it again. Alice was vicious… and I know if anyone of us had been up there, it would've been us dying that day."

She waited for him to elaborate, but Fred kept his mouth shut. "Why didn't you come to get me from the shop? Why was it Remus?"

"I thought it would be better for him to come to get you. Well… better than me or George, at least. He didn't betray you."

"Fred…" Ankaa turned to him, "Why didn't you tell me it was my mother who put you up to it?"

Fred's head snapped towards her quickly. "What—What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you acting like it was entirely your decision to leave me behind?"

"Because it was."

"My mother didn't ask you to keep me back?"

He hesitated in answering. "N—"

"You're a terrible liar, Fred Weasley." Ankaa glared at him. He seemed taken aback and opened his mouth to say something in retaliation (he sure seemed offended by it, because he glared right back at her), but Ankaa continued. "I talked to her, you know. Annabelle had a Time-Turner and I used it to go back and talk to her. She told me she talked you into making me stay back. So why are you taking all the blame?"

Fred stared at her, looking between her and the brown leather notebooks in her lap. Finally, his eyes looked back towards the empty cobblestone streets, and his gaze was far away. "I didn't want you to hate your mother," came his soft reply. "I knew you probably hated me for holding you back and getting your mother killed, but I didn't want you to think that she didn't want you there, and I don't want you to hate her. I'd rather face that than let you think that about your mother."

His answer made her hands tighten over the books in her hands. "You think I'm mad at you because you got my mother killed?"

Fred looked to her with wide eyes. "Isn't that it? If you had been there, maybe you could have saved her? Isn't that what you think I robbed you of—Merlin, I think that's what I did. I keep thinking what if you had been there, would Maya still be alive? But then I remember that Death must have Death and that if she were here, then you wouldn't be."

"Fred—"

"And that thought alone makes me feel so selfish, because I'm glad you're here, really, but I never, ever, wanted it to be at the expense of your mom, Ankaa, you have to believe me."

"Fred, stop." Ankaa reached out intuitively, clasping his hand in hers and giving it three gentle squeezes. "I… don't blame you for any of that. I was livid at you for helping my mother keep me away, I thought we trusted each other more than that. I thought you believed in me being able to defend myself. And it hurt me when you were the one, of all people, to leave me there to keep me safe, as if I didn't have a responsibility to keep others safe either. But I didn't for one second think that you got my mother killed. That's not on you."

Fred's hand tightened in her own, and it looked like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"But…" Ankaa took her hand away from his slowly. "What you did really hurt me. I feel like all this time I spent into training to be better was wasted—all because you don't think I can defend myself."

"I know you can defend yourself! It's just that Alice was much better—even your mother had trouble holding her off."

"There's witches and wizards all around who are much better than me." Ankaa took a deep, steadying breath. "You can't protect me forever, and you don't have to. Someday I'll have to face these people and get hurt… because if it's not me then it'll be someone else. And next time, you can't make this decision for me or…"

Fred understood what she meant. If he did something like this again, Ankaa did not think she could ever forgive him again. There might not be a next time, and there might not be an Ankaa and Fred. After all, if they couldn't trust one another then why were they together?

Fred was the first to spot his brother exiting Flourish and Blotts, with Zara and Sirius in tow. He stood from the steps outside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and turned to face her, offering her his hand to help her up.

"I promise I won't hurt you ever again," he told her as he pulled her up, his eyes shining with such conviction that Ankaa had to steady herself. "I'll be better, I promise. Let's talk more about this later, alright?"

Fred gave Ankaa's hand one last squeeze before letting go and stepping aside as the others joined them. Sirius looked at the two of them questioningly, but before he could ask what was on his mind, Ankaa spoke up.

"Any luck at Flourish and Blotts?"

"Yep!" Zara held up a large brown book, coiled with a gold ribbon. "The Limitations of Permanent Charms and their Renewals by Furlan Brillo. It's got everything on how to undo and reset charms."

"Great," Ankaa smiled tightly at the girl. "Shall we head back then?"

Zara was not at all concerned, however, and exchanged a not so subtle glance with George before nodding. The group turned and Disapparated, appearing in the hidden garden across the street from Grimmauld a moment later. Ankaa clutched her mother's diary securely, itching to get inside and pour over the contents with a fine-tooth comb, but Sirius' announcement made her frown.

"Dumbledore will be bringing Harry with him tonight," he informed the group nonchalantly as they entered. "Harry will be staying with us for the rest of the summer."

At this, Fred gave a barely perceptible look in Ankaa's direction, but none of them commented on it. If anything, Sirius' announcement only strengthened Ankaa's resolve to lock herself in her bedroom and submerge herself in her mother's diary. Luckily no one followed after her as she headed up the stairs, and no one bothered to check on her for the next few hours.

Ankaa felt the anger at Harry's upcoming visit slowly fade away. It was replaced by a sense of overwhelming sadness, closely followed by awe, and then confusion. Ankaa ran her fingertips over her mother's writing, reading and rereading the hasty scribbles.

Madam Vablatsky says there's no hope when it comes to me. Although, she did admit that perhaps with a little (or a lot) more practice, I might get better. Whatever the case, there's hardly anything I can do about the fact that my Inner Eye is inherently lazy.

The visions are come and go, but I just can't seem to hold on to them. I've got the sense that I'm missing something really big, something so important. But Vablatsky says that writing it out will help; it'll help me order my thoughts and clear my mind (which, admittedly, shouldn't be all that hard since there's precious little happening in there anyway, according to her).

The pages were warping slightly, fraying with time and the ink was seeping through several pages. This was her mother's first diary, started in her fifth year at Hogwarts when she had first transferred and been immediately enrolled in Seer Lessons with Vablatsky at Dumbledore's behest.

"At least you were just as lost as I am now."

It made Ankaa think that perhaps there was hope for her after all. But her mother had had years to perfect her abilities, and Ankaa did not know if she had that much time. When the front door opened and slammed shut, Ankaa carefully closed the diary and placed it under the sheets. She debated if she could just stay in her room until the rest of the Order arrived, all under the guise of perusing over her mother's newfound diaries.

But a sharp knock from the door drew her out of her thoughts. Without waiting for a response, Zara let herself in with a small smile.

"Are you done hiding?"

"I'm not hiding."

"Right, and I'm not secretly plotting to get you and Fred back together."

"About that—I don't appreciate you trying to manipulate me like that—"

"It was the only way you both would talk to one another. How long did you think you were going to ignore him?"

"It's none of your business. It's not your relationship to meddle in."

"You're right, but the way you were headed there would be no relationship at all." Zara's hand twitched at her side before she took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm not telling you what to do, or what to say. That's not my place. What I am going to tell you—over and over again if that's what it takes—is that you're a stubborn girl who likes holding on to grudges."

"Grudges against imbeciles who got my mother killed. I think it's entirely fair."

"Harry didn't mean for any of that to happen. He made a mistake—haven't you ever made one? Besides, I don't think your mother and brother would like that you're wasting your life holding grudges. I'm sure your mother raised you better than that."

Ankaa was filled with such a white-hot rage that she could have sworn her vision turned black for a moment. There was a ringing in her ears, sharp and shrill, before the lamp by her bedside shook ominously and exploded into a thousand pieces.

Ankaa could feel the venom pooling in her mouth, words that wanted to tumble out without a second thought. Tell her, a part of Ankaa urged her. Tell her she's a nobody—a friend of a friend who you're housing because you feel sorry for her. Let her hurt.

But Ankaa kept her mouth shut, not because it was the nice thing to do, but because if she started yelling now, she was not sure if she would be able to stop.

TELL THEM! TELL THEM ALL TO STOP TELLING YOU HOW TO FEEL! HOW TO GRIEVE! TELL. THEM. TO. STOP!

The lights in the room flickered. Instead of a scathing, biting remark, Ankaa simply stepped back and away from the girl. Silence reigned around them before Ankaa took a deep breath.

"Kreacher!"

The house-elf popped into the room not even a second later, offering a low bow with thinly veiled disgust as he muttered, "The bloodtraitor scum has summoned Kreacher."

Ankaa did not respond to his greeting. Instead, her cold, grey eyes remained directly on Zara, who started back with steely resolve. "Tomorrow morning you'll take Ms. Holloway to central London with all of her belongings. She is to spend the rest of her summer at her own home. See to it that she does not return here."

"Ankaa—"

"I want her out of this house before I come down for breakfast, Kreacher. If she's not gone, you will be."

Kreacher, who had been momentarily surprised by the turn of events, now turned back to her with an indistinguishable look. Without waiting, he bowed his head low and muttered a quiet, "Yes Mistress," before slinking out of the room and disappearing somewhere in the house.

In his wake stood the two girls, staring at one another with completely opposite sentiments. Zara stood still, pressed against the wall with her hands trembling.

"Ankaa, I didn't mean—"

"You can use my owl to write to your mother. Tell her to expect you at breakfast tomorrow."

Ankaa gathered her mother's diaries and left the room, not waiting for a response. On another day, Ankaa might have even felt bad at the absolutely apologetic expression on Zara's face, but she had had enough of people telling her what she could and could not, should and should not feel. After all, Zara was Draco's friend. Not hers.

Waiting at the bottom of the stairs was another source of pure rage in Ankaa's life. The Order had started to assemble (about time too, seeing as it was half past eleven already), and Dumbledore had only just arrived with Harry Potter in tow. The Gryffindor boy was caught in the middle of an enthusiastic hug by his godfather, and Ankaa could see Potter's form slump in Sirius' arms as if a weight had been lifted off him.

At the sight of her, however, Potter's smile was strained before it vanished completely.

"Good evening, Miss Rhyther."

"It was until now."

Potter glowered at her, completely unfazed.

Dumbledore gave a jovial smile. "Quite right," he said, "The rain is absolutely dreadful. And though I enjoy a good thunderstorm, I must admit I am not so fond of it tonight. Other than that, the evening was rather pleasant."

Ankaa did not respond. Instead, she turned to Sirius and asked, "Has everyone from the Order arrived? Can we get started now?"

"Started on what?" Potter glanced between the father and daughter. "What's going on?"

Ankaa stared at him before shaking her head and walking away. She ventured into the dining room, where most of the Order had already assembled. Mad-Eye Moody stood near the entrance, glancing from member to member intensely before turning to look at Ankaa as she entered. The girl did not pay him much mind but offered him a simple nod before seating herself beside Fred and George, who were in conversation with Tonks.

"Hey Tonks," Ankaa mumbled as she sat down. "How are you?"

"Oh, hi Ankaa," Tonks gave her a smile, but it was lacking the usual boisterous energy that often accompanied her. "M'Alright, how are you?"

"Same old, same old."

Tonks and Ankaa shared a strained smile before turning to Dumbledore and Potter as they entered, following by Sirius who closed the door behind him and muttered a quick spell. People shuffled around the table, making room for the newcomers and Ankaa found herself shuffling to the right, besides George who grinned at her.

"Where's your friend?"

"Upstairs," Ankaa tried to hold back the biting tone, but she suspected George could hear it. He did not ask any more of Zara, but he looked at her intensely, and when Ankaa looked back at him she knew George could tell something had happened. From his other side, Fred too had his eyes on her, but he only seemed worried as opposed to his brother.

"Good evening, everyone! Thank you for meeting today—there are some new developments that we must first address." Dumbledore gestured for Ankaa to explain, so she very quickly summarized her visit to Gringotts and the matter of succession when it came to Rhyther Manor.

"… so, we've got to get there at midnight as it transfers ownership."

"Precisely," Dumbledore's soft voice sounded once more. "Alastor and I will place a wide variety of protection spells on the Manor the moment it transfers ownership. Once we have secured the Manor, Nymphadora, Sirius, and Kingsley will venture inside first to secure it. Miss Rhyther, you said you have a house-elf, is that correct?"

"Uh, yeah. Several."

"We will have you give a command to test the succession. If Rhyther Manor has indeed passed to you after midnight, then the house-elves will obey your command without question. Once the Order has ensured that the Manor is safe, you all may enter. Now… let's go!"

All of them were off in less than five minutes. Ankaa clutched the wand in her pocket tightly, taking one deep breath to steady herself before she gripped Fred and George by their elbows, and turned to Disapparate. The Order had Apparated into a field behind Ryther Manor. Ankaa squinted at the form in the distance, immediately spotting her childhood home looming over the sprawling hills in the distance.

"The lights are on," George noted, coming to a stop beside her with Potter in tow.

"It could be the House Elves," Ankaa dismissed. "The Manor lights stay on outside. Dad insisted on it. Where's everyone else?"

"They've gone ahead already," Potter informed her tightly, doing his best not to glance at her. "They said they'd send a signal when it was okay to get closer."

There was nothing else to do except wait for the all-clear. Ankaa strained her ears to see if she could hear something, but other than the hum of the insects and the gentle breeze, there was nothing else. Beside her, Fred and George were busy surveying the scene.

"Your house looks so big, even from here."

Ankaa gave George a half-smile. "I forget you two have never been there."

Fred raised a brow. "Have any of your friends seen your house?"

"Draco has."

"I said friends."

"Blaise has."

"Again, I said friend."

"They're my best friends."

Fred muttered something under his breath that went entirely unnoticed. There rest of the floodlights at Rhyther Manor came on, and green flares shot into the night sky.

"That's the signal." George turned to the rest of them and linked hands. "Let's go."

This time, they Apparated right into the courtyard at Rhyther Manor. Ankaa blinked at the sight of her home; it looked almost exactly as she had left it. The lights on outside and turned towards the intricate carvings in the stone, the immobile statues, the pristine gardens.

The solid oak door creaked open, and Sirius stepped out to the teenagers.

"You'd better see this."

As homely as the outside was, Rhyther Manor was completely destroyed and uprooted on the inside. There were muddy streaks on the marble floor, dried and crusted over as if quite some time had passed since the intruder had once set foot into Ankaa's home. They lead into the living room, where all the chairs and furniture was upturned and strewn about haphazardly, the table was broken in half, and glass shards littered the dusty floor.

Ankaa followed the muddy footprints in a trance. Dread filled her when she noticed they were headed to her father's library. Slowly, her hands reached for the sliding door, and she pulled it open.

Her father's library, one of his favourite rooms in the house, was in complete chaos. The books that he had once treasured, and had spent most of his time reading to Ceph and Ankaa from, were ripped open and thrown on the floor. Some had been ripped from their binding while the others had been set on fire. The desk was laying on the floor with the drawers having been pulled out, and parchment deposited throughout.

The worst part, however, was the alarming amount of blood.

Without feeling, Ankaa kneeled down and picked up one of the books. The Tales of Beedle the Bard was now stained red with dried blood. It was one of her favourite books… Henry and Maya would always read it to her and Ceph before bed, sitting next to the fireplace and wrapped up in their blankets.

"What… happened?"

It was Potter's voice. Ankaa turned to find Sirius, Fred, and George standing in the library as well. Sirius looked a little pale, but he had probably happened upon this scene earlier, and he schooled his expression into a blank look. Fred, George, and Potter on the other hand looked entirely horrified.

"What about the rest of the house?"

Sirius shook his head. "The rest of the house is fine," he told her. "Whoever came by… They stopped here."

Ankaa's hands gripped the bloody book tightly at the news. The chance that her father was alive somewhere in hiding was dwindling away steadily.

A thought occurred to her then, but the lump in her throat made it exceptionally difficult to voice it. "The… body?"

"… There isn't one."

Ankaa turned away from the others then, and towards the row of shelves at the back, noticing the intricate carvings that he had been so excited to show her. Ankaa could almost feel his presence in the room; the way he would slump over his desk late at night, shuffling through Ministry paperwork or a particularly interesting book that he simply could not let go of, or trying to come up with a new spell to entertain her and Ceph.

"There are a few house-elves in the kitchens and Dumbledore wants you to see if you can command them." He paused then, before giving a resigned sigh. "Oh, what the hell. Let them wait." He gave his daughter and long, hard look, and a shadow of something passed in his face when he glanced from the book in her hands to her face. "Take your time. We—I'll be outside if you need me."

He turned swiftly and left the library, but not before Ankaa could hear him let out a strained sigh. A heavy silence followed before Potter, who had the nous to excuse himself, followed behind his godfather.

"Are you alright?"

No, Ankaa wanted to snap, but she could not put the feeling into words. Was she alright? What was she feeling? Angry? Sad? Mad? Perhaps the worst realization of the night was the fact that she wasn't feeling anything at all; even as she held the blood-stained book in her hands, Ankaa could not pinpoint a single thought or feeling in her head. There was a heavy emptiness in her chest… one where she knew the absence of feeling was wrong, but there was nothing she could do about the apathy.

"Why is this happening? Why is everything going wrong?" One of her hands was rubbing at her eyes, hoping that if she pressed hard enough she would cry. Finally do something. "Nearly everyone in my family has been murdered—do you realize that?" A wry smile escaped her. "I wouldn't be surprised if Sirius was next. I'm probably cursed."

Her shoe skimmed the edge of a book, and lo and behold it was once again covered in blood. There was so much blood.

Is this my fault?

"No, of course, it isn't!" Fred gripped her by the wrist and turned her around harshly. "None of this is your fault. I know you can see the future but it's not your job to stop everyone from dying. Even if you couldn't see the future, there's nothing you could have done about it anyway. The only person to blame here is Voldemort, and Alice and Joseph. They're the ones that are doing this—not you. Don't ever think that it's your fault."

He inhaled deeply before releasing her wrist. "Sorry," he muttered, not sounding the least bit apologetic. "It's not your fault, Ankaa, that there's a war. You're just unfortunate enough to have a lot of casualties."

George nodded from behind him. Though, unlike his brother, he was much calmer. The boy placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry you have to go through all this, Ankaa. We're all really sorry that we couldn't do anything to help."

There was nothing to say. As much as Ankaa wanted to take their words to heart, to convince herself that she was not the one at fault here, she could not bring herself to do it. What if she had worked harder? What if she had seen all this before it happened—could she have warned her father? Helped her mother think up another plan to save herself? What about Ceph?

What about Ceph? The first casualty in all this—the one who had trusted her so implicitly and lost his life trying to stand up for what's right.

Fred and George watched the girl, worrying that she was retreating deeper and deeper into her mind instead of understanding that they were telling her. George gave her shoulder one more squeeze that went entirely unanswered before stepping away.

"I'm going to go check on Sirius," he told Fred. "Take care of her alright? Don't let her stay here too long—take her down to the kitchen soon."

Fred nodded, but George could tell his attention was mostly on Ankaa. With a small sigh, George left the two behind and headed back the way they had come. He could hear the hushed voices of Sirius and Harry, who were sat on the front steps and looking out into the courtyard.

"… she blames me for it," Harry was saying when George joined them. "She thinks I got Maya killed. And she's not wrong."

"If we're going to play the blame game, then I'm just as much to blame," Sirius retorted tightly. "I'm getting tired of it, frankly. I've lost my wife all over again. The only person to blame is Alice. It doesn't matter if you're the reason we were there or not—a lot of things could have gone wrong, and they did. But in the end, Alice is the one who used the unforgivable curse."

George settled himself on Sirius' other side. "How're you holding up, Sirius?"

Sirius gave him a sidelong glance. George couldn't help but notice how he and Ankaa shared certain mannerisms, though Ankaa would loathe to admit it. "As well as you'd imagine."

George's eyes were trained on him still, waiting for the man to elaborate, but Sirius did not.

"What do you think happened there?" Harry asked, looking back into the house. "Do you really think Henry's dead?"

Sirius was silent for a moment, gazing out into the courtyard and beyond the wrought iron gate, into the expansive darkness. "If he isn't dead already, he's probably as good as. If there's one thing I know about him is that his family matters most to him. If he was able, he would've found Ankaa already."

"Isn't it possible that he's just being kept away?"

"What use would they have for him alive?" It was a bitter thought, and Sirius hoped it wasn't true. He hoped Henry was still alive somewhere, albeit in hiding and simply waiting for a chance to resurface, perhaps when things had settled down. "Whatever the case, something must have happened. I'm just not sure how terrible it is."

Immediately, he recalled a distance memory.

It was the first time he had met Henry Rhyther. Sirius was sulking in Dumbledore's office, slouched over one of the chairs with his arms crossed in front of him, glaring at nothing in particular. Beside him, Maya was waiting patiently with her hands in her lap as the Headmaster explained the possible solution to their problem.

"Henry has already been acting as a spy for the Order," Dumbledore was saying. "He's already passed on some valuable information, and I assure you he can be trusted."

"Only because he's in love with Maya," Sirius had uttered petulantly, glaring at the Headmaster once more. "I don't feel comfortable with this. Isn't there any other way to get Voldemort off our back? Why can't Maya just stop being a spy, especially if you've got Henry there already?"

"Henry is not a part of the inner circle as of yet." Dumbledore had said, placatingly. "But if we are to pretend that he and Maya are engaged to be married, then he gets a shoo-in as her husband."

"Not to mention the added protection," Maya had pointed out, placing a comforting hand on Sirius' arm. "It's only for a little while, baby. Once this war is over, everything can go back to normal."

Sirius had stared at her from the corner of his eyes before turning to face her completely, looking unsure. "We don't have to do this, you know. You can just stay with James and me—you don't have to be a spy for the Order anymore. If you just work on your Seer abilities—"

"I've been doing that, Sirius." Her tone had been scathing, but she quelled her anger. "I'm just not as good. I want to help the Order, but I'm not as good as you or James or Remus or Lily. Please let me help in any way I can."

"It's not just you anymore, you know that," Sirius had reached down and placed a hand over her stomach, noticing the little bump. "It's not safe for you to be there anymore, even if Rhyther's with you."

"If I may," The two had turned to Dumbledore, who was giving them a serene smile, not at all surprised at the news, "if you are having a child soon, then it is all the more reason we move forward with this plan. Voldemort will no doubt be suspicious if Maya is pregnant without being married, and your ancestry is quite noticeable, Sirius."

Sirius had frowned. "Oh yeah? And how is Rhyther going to help that—"

The fireplace in Dumbledore's office had burst to life, and out stepped a tall man. He was older than them by a few years, as Sirius recognized having seen him around the halls before. With a start, Sirius realized the two of them shared some of the trademark Black genes. Henry Rhyther also sported a head of curly hair and ice grey eyes. Only, his hair was lighter.

"Nothing that cannot be explained away with genetics," Dumbledore had waved his hand dismissively. "Your children can inherit the curly hair from your genes, but the hair colour from Maya's genes."

Henry Rhyther had taken a seat to the other side of his wife, looking entirely too happy at Sirius' expense. Sirius, on the other hand, had sulked even further into his seat and was scowling menacingly at Dumbledore as he explained the situation to Rhyther.

"I accept," Rhyther had said immediately. "I will keep her and the child safe."

"Our child, mind you."

"My child as long as she's engaged to me."

"Actually—" Maya's brow had twitched, "My child since I'll be giving birth to it. If the two of you have had enough of your testosterone battle, can we please continue?"

Dumbledore had seemed too amused, but he continued. The idea was simple: To act as if the two of them were engaged to be married, hold a small ceremony that really wouldn't mean anything just to placate Voldemort, have the child, continue being in Voldemort's inner circle until eventually, the Order had enough information to attack and kill him. And then, everything would be back to normal.

"You will, of course, have to move in with Mr. Rhyther."

Henry had given Sirius a teasing grin when the man had spluttered.

"I've got more than enough space at the Manor. There's even a shed out back where Black can stay if he'd so like—"

"Henry." Maya's voice was serious. "Are you sure about this? This is a lot to ask of you and we would completely understand if you didn't want to do this."

Henry, who had immediately forgotten Sirius the moment Maya had spoken, had turned to her with an indescribable look. "Of course I'm sure about this," he had said, reaching for her hand without a care in the world and gripping it tightly, "I'd do anything to keep you safe. Your child as well."

Back then, Sirius had nearly thrown a fit. How could this man put his hands on Maya? How could he try to take Sirius' place in his child's life?

But now, Sirius could not help but feel thankful for Henry Rhyther, the man who had raised his kids as his own without a shadow of doubt in his mind. The man who had loved Maya, despite knowing that she might never love him the same way even after all these years.

Do you love him, Sirius had asked Maya once when they had been reunited after so long.

I do, she had answered, a quiet whisper in the dark nights where they would often meet in secret. But not in the way I love you.

Sirius could not deny the guilt that swept over him. He had promised Maya that he would take care of Henry and Ankaa once she had passed.

You owe it to me after all these years, she had said. He's raised your children in your absence. He's made them who they are today, given them everything that you couldn't. You owe it to him, and to your family, to take care of them after I'm gone. Will you do that for me?

I will, he had answered.

But sitting on the cold stone steps outside of Rhyther Manor, Sirius Black could not deny the fact that he had failed terribly. Henry Rhyther was missing, probably dead. Ceph was long gone, and so was Maya. Ankaa was inside, battling demons Sirius could not even begin to comprehend.

A part of him hoped that if Henry really was dead, it had been swift and painless. After all this, Henry did not deserve to suffer at the hands of Alice and Joseph Archer.

But Sirius knew one undeniable fact of life: good men are often denied such peace.

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait, but life just gets in the way sometimes. I've had this chapter written for the longest time, but there was something about it that just wasn't flowing right. We're now in the Endgame stages were every clue starts to fall into place, and I swear to you it'll make sense. So I'm being a lot more careful to write the chapters with certain things in mind (essentially, working backwards from the very end).

One good thing is: This story's completely plotted now. It's just a matter of writing it (which is the hard part, but still). So updates should be fairly regularly now since I'm off from school for another few weeks and I'd like to get HBP done by then. Alas, goals.

19irene96: Ahh, poor Sirius. I think he cares about her genuinely, but he just doesn't know how to show it. After all, he's lost his wife too. He's a bit fickle that way. Can't blame him entirely, he's had no experience raising a child so he forgets to put them first sometimes. But he'll come around. LOLOL #TeamAnkaa forever too! Also, I'm such a simp for Draco and Zara, I cannot WAIT to write more about them. I love it.

monkeybaby: Thank you! And thank you so much for your review!

BudddyBuddyy: Thank you! That's honestly the reasoning I had to - Sirius is a bit fiery that way, and his passion can sometimes be translated wrong. It's one of the things we love about him, but just like any other person there's a certain duality to his nature, which comes across in different interactions with every character. Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

Raven that flies at night: Ah, I'm sad about Maya too. I think there's a lot of unresolved business she left behind, especially with Ankaa and Sirius that it makes me sad.

As for Sirius, I think he's starting to feel that distance between him and Ankaa now. I genuinely feel that he was sad to be left out of raising his kids, and with this chapter we get a little more of an understanding as to why, but still-he's a sad boi. As for Fred and Ankaa, we get that interaction here but I don't think it's enough. There's still going to be more there in the next few chapters. Ankaa's apathy is trying to make her distance from everyone else and I don't think Fred will like that.

Guest: Thank you so much! I'm sorry you were crying but also I'm really glad LOL. I really want to know you think of the interaction between Fred and Ankaa in this chapter because Ankaa definitely is not one to let go of a grudge so quickly, hence why she says there's a lot of things to talk about still. They're definitely going to reconcile at some point... but not so quick.

Also, I completely agree with you. I think Ankaa has trouble seeing Sirius as a father figure-I think she loves him in her own way, given that he does a lot for her and she's around because of him, but Henry is 1000% her dad as far as she's concerned. I also try to get that across sometimes in the words she uses to describe them (father vs dad, or Henry vs Sirius). So yeah, interesting. Thank you so much for the review, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy!

LiaLoveFood: Thank you! So sorry for the wait, but hopefully you like it! Lemme know what you think of this chapter!

PoodlesRock: Omggggg you are so sWEEET I"M CRYINGGGGGGGGG. We really are in the endgame now! I've got the entire story mapped out until the end so from here on now I've got to be more careful in writing it because it's all going to tie in together soon. I really hope you like this chapter and PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AGAIN I WANNA HEAR FROM YOU MORE!

NicCraft18: LOOOL SAME HERE I think this hiatus definitely got people thinking I had abandoned the story. Quarantine's alright here - I'm not missing much since I never leave my house anyway, but it's nice to be able to leave for a few things here and there.

To be honest, I did consider killing Sirius at first, but I think he's got a greater purpose in the story still. Maya, as much as it hurt me to kill her off, really needed to go - not for shock value or anything, but I think it was more important to show that despite her gifts as a Seer, she's not invincible and that really, Death must have Death. And you're right, without her mother to sort of guide her through this, Ankaa's going to have a really, really tough time processing all these emotions in a healthy way. Especially since she's got a tendency to push away anyone who wants to help anyway.

LOLOL Sirius and Ankaa might never get along, honestly. I think Sirius will learn how to become a father eventually, given that he has no experience raising his children. I think this is new territory for both of them, and it'll take them a while to understand their boundaries and expectations.

Ah, Draco, my fav baby. I can't say much other than it's definitely going to be a big part of the upcoming story. Draco's one of her OG friends, even a second-brother, I might say, but swaying him is easier said than done. Like Ankaa said, there's more to consider for her and Draco than just good vs evil, and especially more for Draco since Ankaa's choice has been made for her by default.

Thank you so much for your review! I really loved reading it and it motivated me so much to write this chapter! I really hope to hear from you again - YOU'D BETTER REVIEW! OR ELSE (I mean, I can't do much but still, please).

BooYa7: You, my dear, are an absolute poet. William Shakespeare who? I only know BooYa7.

Thanks for your review and I really hope you like this chapter! Send me another poem/review again (I can't answer in poem, but I definitely will enjoy it). I wanna know what you think of this chapter!

Toastestmouse: YEEEEEES! I'm so glad you like it! I bet you're glad that the next chapter is out so soon after you read it - your patience has paid off, huh? I promise I'll get the next chapter out sooner (hopefully by the end of the week) so you don't have to wait much longer. Thanks for your review, and I hope you enjoy!

As always, my sincerest thank you to everyone who's favourited/followed either the story or me as the author. You have no idea how much that means to me. I can't believe we've hit 700+ follows. I remember thinking no one would read my writing. I've got a long way to go in terms of improvement, I know, but I really appreciate you all sticking by and tolerating my work.

Thank you to At Least I Didn't Fake It, adim037, gwenweasley, ljade2000, Daphne Potter, royalpurple 153, AlegriaUta, Cubelz, Jihffer, killerqueen96, BasicCourtesy, EmeraldComet13, Lobelia-Dearborn, iisGooseyLoosey, Chrysos-hime, Onesie Queen, dreamingxofxdior, physicsnerd, rileyperez33, cherryorpeach, Lewtam, zozoDaisy, Unicorn19, missyd28, officialfmr, HologramHoney, TwilightHorseGal, Byakko01, Mia747, DoodleBugNY, EspressorPatronum13, Foreverlazy99, CuddleBugTheFighter, lolasskicker, ItsJustABook, MrganOsborn, sjgollie, CosmicWonder20, Firebreathingbithcqueen 04, OneHeart OneDirection, BooYa7, LuckyLark and Darkshadow, htethtet12, Emeraldlady95, anggelica2018, ClairePear42, GirlNextDoor01, Storythriver123, I'm Regina Phalange, elydarth, ReadBetweenTheLines1220, MonicaH14, SofiaisCountingStars, Toastiestmouse, TLM9312, hahahanna, yatogod1, Miffybeth, askousen44, shopgirllaura, harrypottertwilightfanforever, and Nochu1997 for adding this story to your alerts/favourites!

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