A/N- heres the disclaimer.
Micah walked desolately around the banks of the lake. Her feet slid across the mud and stones, landing her scuffed yellow converse in the water. She blinked back tears, wrapping her arms around herself.
It isn't fair.
No, but then, it was never fair. When you play with fire, you always burn something. And you don't always burn yourself. Sometimes, you fuck it up for someone else. Unconsciously, she rubbed the snake curled around her wrist. She had no loyalties to Voldemort, and none to Dumbledore. The jaws of the snake opened to swallow its own tail. She proclaimed her neutrality in the safest way possible, these days.
Why couldn't he have just stayed away?
Micah thought desperately of Scott, wishing, praying even, that last night had been a bad dream, and she would wake up in the morning and get a letter from him. She squeezed her eyes shut, kneeling in the mud and filth. Tears streamed down her ivory cheeks. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.
"Scott." She sobbed. "Scott, you idiot." She put her head in her hands, trying to hide from the pale moonlight that washed the color from her surroundings. She was taking a risk, being out this late. Her house would be disappointed. Ravenclaw students never did things like this. Still, she just needed to be outside. To breath fresh air, instead of the stale atmosphere of the dorms. "Scottie, I need you." She leaned over the lake, tears dripping like blood onto the placid surface. Ripples erupted, spreading in great, lazy circles. It only served to make her feel worse, and she let out a great, wracking sob. She wished, only for a moment, that she could disappear into the black water. Then, maybe they could be together again. If only for a moment. This was what she deserved, though. She fooled around with stronger, smarter people, and when they found out about Scott, he had disappeared. She deserved it, yes. But Scott hadn't.
A low growl sounded through the clearing, and Micah stumbled to her feet, clutching her stomach as though in pain. Dirt streaked her pant legs, and somehow, her arms. She didn't particularly care what she looked like, now. She was too busy concentrating on the large black dog in front of her. Its ears were flattened against its skull, its hackles raised, baring its teeth menacingly. It growled again.
"Dog." Micah whispered, backing away. Her lip was still bleeding slightly, and she had a terrible throbbing in the pit of her stomach, as though she hadn't eaten in months. She ignored the aches of her physical form, and back away from the animal. "Dog." She repeated, more frantic this time. The dog's ears pricked up, and it sniffed the air curiously, its strange grey eyes observing her silently. "Oh, please go away dog." She moaned. "I've had a terrible time. Scott is dead." The dog emitted a low grumbling sound, as though it felt sorry for her. She grimaced, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. She was terrified of the great black dog, even more so now that Scott could no longer protect her. "Please, dog." Micah begged. The dog stepped forward, snuffling the ground near her feet. With a yelp of panic, Micah stumbled back, straight into the lake.
Her shoes sank into the mud, and she toppled backward, into a much deeper part of the lake. She sank to the bed, tangling herself in the ropy coils of weeds. Surprised, she opened her mouth and sucked in great mouthfuls of water. This was it. She thought in a daze. She would die. Her mind fogged, the light rapidly fading. She closed her eyes and drifted in the murky, greenish water. Then it changed. She felt a hand close around the robes, pulling her towards the surface. She flopped helplessly onto the banks, gasping for breath and coughing up water. Her black hair was flattened against her skull, tangling in her eyes. She crouched on her hands and knees, spitting the muddy water to the ground. She looked up, searching for her rescuer, and all she saw was the dog. His coat was wet, the thick black fur clumping together. She felt so stupid, as she sat there, coughing up water. For a moment, just a second, really, she almost thought he was back. He had saved her. Slowly, she staggered to her feet. The dog growled low in its throat, and she quivered nervously, quietly moving back.
"Thanks, dog." She murmured, scratching the sandy grit from her thin, pale arms. She shivered in the cool air. "But I have to say. I was kind of hoping I wouldn't end up back here." She paused, reflecting slowly. The Forbidden Forest loomed behind her, and she closed her eyes, tears leaking from the corners. The dog let out a high squeak, tilting its bushy head to one side. "I never really believed them when they said life wasn't worth living. But now- now that Scott's gone, I guess they were right." She hiccupped, heading dejectedly back up towards the ominous castle. The dog barked sharply, trotting next to her. She hastily moved away. "Stay away from me, dog." She warned, her shoes squelching unpleasantly in the grass. His ears pricked up, and his eyes concentrated solely on her as she trudged dejectedly up the hill.
"Sirius?" The hurried whisper jerked the dog away from his stony posture. He lifted his nose in the air, sniffing the air briefly before trotting in the direction of the voice. "Sirius!" The voice hissed, more insistent. The dog's body elongated, the hind legs lengthening, the forelegs straightening. The muzzle shrank back, as did the fur. The ears contracted, until they poked from beneath a curtain of black hair. Sirius Black shook himself, in a rather dog-like fashion, and continued his stride toward the Forbidden Forest. James leaned against a tree; his short, wiry frame slouched as usual. He looked up as Sirius approached, his hazel eyes narrowed. "You were supposed to be watching." He said, accusingly. "Filch could've come by."
"But he didn't." Sirius replied crossly, the sudden wind making him shiver. He rubbed his arms, desperately trying to warm them. It had been a perfectly fine night, if he hadn't jumped into the lake. "Let's just go back in." He turned and surveyed the grassy lawns, praying the neurotic Ravenclaw hadn't seen him change. It would be a nasty surprise for his mother if she received a letter informing her of her son's illicit knowledge. Sirius smirked inwardly. Maybe it would be nice to get caught, solely to hear Vivian Black's reaction.
"Why are you all wet?" James demanded. Sirius swiveled back towards his friend. He blinked slowly, and looked down at himself. Indeed, his hair hung in limp, wet strands, and his clothes were still soaked. "What happen, you fall in the lake?" Sirius nodded automatically. He jerked his head in the direction of the castle, indicating his impatience to leave. "What's gotten into you?" James snapped, as Sirius appraised the hilly terrain once more. "Why are you so jumpy?"
"It's nothing." Sirius lied as they crept through the hallways, towards Gryffindor tower. "I, uh- I just thought I saw someone." James looked around quickly, his glasses flashing in the dull moonlight streaming in through one of the towering windows. He gave Sirius a reassuring smile.
"No one." He pointed out, rather proudly, as if he had accomplished something important. They approached the portrait hiding the entrance to the common room, and James quickly gave the large woman in the frilly pink dress the password. She grumbled upon being awakened at such an ungodly hour, but swung open at length. The common room was silent. The fire had burned out, and the coals in the brazier were black. Sirius didn't stop to see if Remus or Peter had waited up for them. He headed straight for the dormitories, and pretended to be asleep when James came looking for him. He stretched across the bed, his legs only slightly too long for it. He rolled over in the bed, reminiscing about the past seven years at Hogwarts. It would be strange, next autumn. Not having to return. He rolled over again, squeezing his eyes shut. All he could see was the black depths of the lake, and a Ravenclaw girl twisted in water plants and sinking to the bottom. He groaned softly, pushing the image from his mind. Her voice melted through his conscious, cracking and sorrowful.
Scott is dead.
Who was Scott?