Status: alive :)

Walk Through Hell

Worth It

I will never let you fall, I'll stand up with you forever; I'll be there for you through it all, Even if saving you sends me to heaven

There were birds chirping in the distance.

Addie stirred on the grass and dirt that she lay upon, wondering why an earthy scent filled her nostrils, and wondering why there were damn birds chirping in her room. Eyes still closed, she rolled onto her back and stretched her arms above her head, questioning also why she was so stiff.

Then she realized that the light that was shining through her eyelids was much too bright to be coming through her curtained window. Her eyes shot open and she sat up straight. She was in the field that she had cried in the night before.

There was only one word that crossed her mind:



It took Addie much longer to get back home than it had taken her to get to the field the night before, the main reason for this, she believed, was that she feared what she would be facing when she got back to the house. Upon stepping foot into the house, it appeared to be empty, and she breathed a temporary sigh of relief.

She tiptoed to the stairs, careful to not make any noise, seeing that the clock on the kitchen wall read 7:30; it was very likely that both of her parents were upstairs sleeping. When she reached the third floor landing, she did not turn immediately to her left, to the hall that led to her own bedroom, but continued down the hall towards her parent’s suite.

The large, oak double doors were slightly ajar and she slipped carefully inside. Quietly, she walked down the entry hall of the suite, so as to not wake them, should they be sleeping there. Soon, she turned the corner, and their large, four-poster bed came into view. And it was empty.

To be absolutely sure that she was alone, Addie had a quick look in the bathroom. That, as well, was empty.

Now that she knew she was alone, she made her way to her own room and quickly showered and dressed. She looked longingly at her bed as she walked past it on her way out, wishing she could just crawl in and sleep after her night on the hard ground, but she had to find her mother before she found herself in more trouble than she was surely already in.

When she reached the kitchen again, she noticed a snowy white owl perched outside the large window above the sink.

Addie opened the window and let her in, “Hey, Hedwig,” she said, petting the owl on the head and untying the note attached to her leg, “Here you go,” Addie handed her a treat from a cabinet, and she hooted happily before flying away.

She opened the envelope and saw the familiar writing of her friend:

We’re at headquarters. Your mother is pissed.



Addie stood, staring at the large, gothic-looking front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. She had been staring at the worn brass doorknob for several minutes, reluctant to face the wrath of her mother that would be on the other side of the heavy door.

Delicately, she turned the knob and slipped into the dark hallway. Though it was the end of a dangerously hot July, the house felt damp and cool, and Addie shivered under her thin cotton t-shirt.

At the end of the long hallway, Addie could see a light on in the kitchen, and shadows moving under the door. A lump formed in her throat as she slowly walked forward. She didn’t know who she would come face to face with when she opened the door, but whoever it was, she knew they would be angry.

Bracing herself, Addie took a deep breath and opened the door.

The eyes of her mother and her three friends landed on her as she made herself visible in the doorway. For a moment, they just sort of stared at her, and she felt particularly awkward with so many different sets of eyes on her.

“Addie,” Harry said, raising from his seat at the table, and pulling her into a tight embrace, “we were all worried about you.”

She hugged him back loosely, “Well I’m perfectly fine…”

“Well, I suppose all should just be forgiven then, because you’re perfectly fine,” Claire snapped from the corner of the room. Addie winced at her mother’s harsh tone and let go of Harry. “You have some nerve,” Claire continued, walking towards Addie, “to show up here, like nothing has happened, like you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Addie hung her head, staring at her feet. She did feel terrible about running away, but she hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the field. That had been a complete accident, “I’m sorry,” she said, simply.

“Oh, you’re sorry. Did you hear that, you three,” she said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all of whom looked as if they should leave the room, “she’s sorry. I suppose that should make up for all of the worry she caused us all night…”


“Where did you go, Addie?” Claire snapped, ignoring her.

Addie shuffled her feet over the dull, worn floor, “I just ran.”

“Ran to where?”

“Just some field.”

Claire gave Addie a patronizing look, “And you just happened to stay there all night?”

“Yeah,” Addie replied, watching anger bubble to her mother’s face.

“You are just damn lucky that your father never came home or--”

“Or what, mother?” Addie interrupted, “You would have turned me over to him for punishment, so he could slice my face with his wand a few more times and give me a couple more crucios?” She felt angry at Claire; how could she threaten Addie with her father, after seeing that memory? How could she be okay with him doing that to her daughter, especially after seeing him do it.

Claire shook her head, her expression softening, realizing her mistake, “Addie, no. I didn’t mean that..”

“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it,” she snapped, harshly.

“I was just angry, Addie.”

Addie glared daggers at her mother. Though she loved her very much, Addie sometimes felt that her relationship with Claire was very strained, due very much to the fact that Claire was quite aware of the abuse Addie endured from her father and did nothing to stop it.

The two women stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at each other, oblivious to the other three people in the room with them, until Hermione stood up slowly and spoke, “Addie, perhaps we should go upstairs,” she motioned towards the door.

After one final, piercing look at her mother, Addie turned on her heel and stalked off, Hermione running along behind her.


Sirius’ bedroom had been dormant since the night he died; no one from the Order had wanted to enter it since then, out of respect for their friend.

Harry, however, felt a strange pull toward the room as he walked past the door on his way to the bedroom that he and Ron were to occupy for the rest of the summer. It was as if there was some kind of unknown presence in there, beckoning him to enter. He traced a finger over the letters engraved on the door that spelled out his godfather’s name.

He slowly turned the doorknob, allowing the door open.

The room appeared to be in the same state as it was the day Sirius died. The bed was unmade and clothes were on the floor. Laughing to himself, Harry noted how much like a teenage boy Sirius had been, to the very day he died. He bent down and picked up a shirt from the floor, noticing that it still carried the scent of Sirius’ cologne. Harry couldn’t help but let a few tears fall as he let the shirt fall back to the floor and walked deeper into the room.

In front of a large window was a desk. It was mostly empty, except for two pieces of parchment that sat next to one another, a quill lying on top of one of the pieces of parchment, and an open bottle of ink. The pieces of parchment, Harry saw, were letters. Curiously, he picked up the first one and began to read. He couldn’t help but notice how similar the neat, slanted cursive was to Addie’s.


I regret that I can’t come see you to talk to you about this in person, but Dumbledore has me in Cairo for the time being. I know why you are concerned for Addie, but I hope that you can understand why I am going to have to tell you once again that we need not tell her about this. There is no need to worry her about something that is likely not to happen. She already has so much to worry about with Harry, and I am not about to throw something else at her that she needs to worry about. I know that you and Remus want the best possible life for her, but right now, what is best for her is this current arrangement. However, I promise to you that at the first sign that this is beginning to emerge, I will tell her immediately. For now, though, I need you to trust me that her mother knows best.

All my love,

Harry reread the letter a couple times, confused, trying to decipher what it meant. What secret were they keeping from Addie? And Lupin was in on it, too? He felt a bit angry. Some of the people that his best friend loved the most were keeping some kind of big secret from her, and she had no idea.

He folded the letter up and put it in his pocket, making a mental note to get Lupin and Claire alone so he could question them. Then he turned to the next letter, which was undoubtedly Sirius’ reply to Claire’s letter.


I have to wholeheartedly disagree with you. This has been kept from her for nearly sixteen years, and it is time that she knows the truth. I will not lie to her any longer. When she comes home from Hogwarts for the summer we will tell her tog--

The letter abruptly ended there, leaving Harry even more confused. He looked at the abrupt ending of the letter, and wondered if maybe, he had been in the process of writing this very letter when he learned that Harry and Addie were at the ministry battling Death Eaters.

Harry felt a twinge of guilt at that thought. If it hadn’t been for that false vision that Voldemort had placed in his head, Sirius would still be alive…

Carefully, he folded the letter with his godfather’s writing, placing it in the same pocket as the letter from Claire. “Harry?” he heard a voice behind him. He turned to see Ron and Hermione standing in the doorway, “What are you doing in here?”

Harry cleared his throat, “Uh, nothing. Just…remembering him…”

Ron gave him a solemn look, “Dumbledore’s here, mate,” he said, holding up an Extendable Ear, “He’s talking to Addie in the sitting room.”


“Your mother tells me a curious thing happened while you were dancing with Mister Malfoy at your birthday party last night,” Dumbledore said, giving Addie a weary smile, “Would you like to talk about that?”

Addie sat down next to the old wizard and nodded, “I think you may be the only person that can possibly make any sense of it.”

He chuckled lightly, “We will have to see about that. Now, tell me, you believe that you read his mind? Why do you believe that?”

Addie dropped her gaze away from the Headmaster’s eyes and told him what she “saw” inside of her head, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to tell that every word that had just came out of her mouth was a lie. If he had noticed, he didn’t make it known to her.

Dumbledore went into deep thought for several minutes, his eyes locked on a portrait of the Black family that hung above the fireplace.
Finally, he spoke, his voice even, “I think,” he said, raising from his seat on the couch, “That for the time being, this is not something that needs to be worried about.”

He made for the door and Addie stood up, following after him, “That’s it sir? You are just going to tell me that I need not worry about it for now?”

“I do think so,” he said, “Now, if you will please excuse me, I must speak with your mother.”


Draco Malfoy wished that just once he would be allowed to sleep in past nine o’clock.

His father’s voice radiated through the house, calling his name. Sighing, Draco climbed out of his bed, and made his way over to his dresser, pulling out his familiar black button up and a pair of black slacks.

He traced his fingers over the ugly black mark on his arm before pulling his shirt on. It was because of that horrible mark he had to wear long sleeves in the blistering summer heat. Just before he left his bedroom, he slipped his feet into his shiny black shoes.

After wandering the house, Draco found his father in his study on the second floor, “You called, father?”

“Yes, Draco. Do come in,” he said, motioning for his son to enter the room. Draco did as he was told, and Lucius waved his wand, shutting and locking the door behind him. Draco dreaded the sound of that door locking, knowing that this wasn’t just a friendly, father-son talk; it was about business.

But of course, when was it not business with Lucius Malfoy?

“What happened with Adrienne last night?” Draco sighed, at least he got right to the point.

“She passed out,” Draco said flatly, knowing this this would not be an acceptable answer for his father.

“Do not lie to me,” Lucius said, bringing his face close to Draco’s.

If it had been anyone else, he would have given up their secret up at his father’s threat. However, this was about Addie, and she certainly wasn’t just someone to him. He wasn’t exactly sure how he knew, but he just knew that whatever happened to her last night was something very serious, something that the Dark Lord didn’t need to know

“I do not know what happened to her.”

“Lying will get you nowhere, Draco,” Lucius said, pulling out his wand. The fact that his father was so determined to find out what had happened to Addie confirmed Draco’s belief that it was something serious.

“I do not know.”

He felt the curse hit him and fell to his knees in pain. No one but Addie was worth this horrible pain. After a few seconds of pain, the curse lifted and Draco gasped for breath.

“What happened to her?” Lucius asked, sounding triumphant. He didn’t believe his son would take any more pain to protect her.

Draco refused to give her up. He felt the curse hit him again.