little miss black

-120-

Sirius felt completely helpless. There was nothing he, nor anyone else, could do about the Avery trial. Cass had been made out to be a crazy woman, a complete liar, and Avery was made out to be the victim. Cass hadn't come around from her fainting spell, so she was in the hospital wing (no surprise there).

Sirius' foot tapped against the polished floor of the hospital wing, the anxiety and anger he felt causing his whole body to shake slightly. James and Lily were in a furious meeting with Dumbledore to see if he could do anything about the situation, which was doubtful. Remus was holed up in the library, researching various ways on how to get a re-trial. Peter, Marlene and Dorcas were trying to bring as much food as they could back to the common room as Cass hadn't eating all day, skipping breakfast because of her essay and lunch to do the other homework she had (and then dinner because she had fainted).

Grace burst into the hospital wing, the door echoing as it slammed against the wall. The usual well-tempered, calm girl was practically steaming at the ears.

"Can someone tell me who the fuck thought it'd be a good idea to let the daily fucking prophet report on this trial?" She yelled, her chest heaving. "Seriously, let me know because I'll fucking hex them into next week."

"Miss Fawley, this is a hospital wing." Madam Pomfrey scolded. "Please keep your voice down." Grace ignored her.

"I mean, really? A history of mental illness? Really the daily prophet? You couldn't think of anything a bit more original?" She continued.

"Grace, calm down." Sirius said weakly.

"Calm down? Calm down? Don't tell me to calm down Sirius Black! I'll kick your arse!" Grace shouted. "Why aren't you angry? She's your sister!"

"I am angry." Sirius said quietly. "I'm past angry — I'm fucking furious, but shouting isn't going to help."  Grace huffed and threw herself down onto a chair, folding her arms.

"Since when are you sensible?" She muttered. Sirius rolled his eyes. Cass stirred slightly, making both Sirius and Grace look at her worriedly. She sat up slowly, rubbing her head. Her eyes were filled with panic as she glanced around the hospital wing.

"Please— please just tell me I dreamt it all and that the trial hasn't happened yet." She croaked. Sirius sighed heavily.

"It wasn't a dream." He said sadly. "I'm sorry." Cass closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.

"I've a mind to go to the fucking ministry myself and show them—"

"No Grace." Sirius said sternly. "Absolutely not."

"But—"

"Sirius is right. We don't need sent to Azkaban." Cass said. "So now everyone thinks I'm crazy? Great." She laughed humourlessly.

"Crazy is such a harsh word." Grace said. "Even if you were mentally ill, you wouldn't be crazy. Mental illness doesn't mean insanity."

"I know." Cass said. "But that's not how the prophets painted it."

The three of them sat in comfortable silence, each of them lost in thought. Sirius' ears perked up at the sound of a commotion in the hallway. He immediately tensed, terrified that Walburga would barge through the doors. Cass must've thought the same because she instinctively reached for her brothers hand. Sirius gave it a gentle squeeze, not even needing to open his mouth for them to have a silent conversation of comfort.

There was the distinct sound of angry french, followed by a loud gasp and Cass relaxed slightly. Angry french could only mean Clarisse.

"I do not wish to hear eet Dumbly-dorr." Clarisse threw the doors of the hospital wing open. Her blonde hair was all over the place, as though she'd been running her hands through it, but her face was made up perfectly with makeup, her lips painted a crimson red. She looked much more like her old self, and not the shell that Cass had seen at the hospital.