For three days, Kit did not speak to anyone.

Sirius had remained at her and Harry's bedside the entire time. He was battered and limping, but he'd disregarded his own health to make sure that both were eating properly, even though Kit was unresponsive the whole time.

Alastor had arrived on the third day, when he'd received word that Kit was neglecting anyone and everyone who tried to speak to her. He had arrived with a notebook and a piece of parchment with quite a bit of notes.

"Kit," said Sirius gently, drawing back the curtains around her bed. "Mad-Eye is here to see you."

She had glanced up to show she'd heard him, and although she was in no mood to speak to Alastor, she didn't want to say anything. Thus, Moody limped over, and came to sit beside her.

"So you're on a silence streak, Kit?" he said gruffly, his magical eye whizzing around. She didn't answer. "Fine by me, I'd prefer you didn't interrupt me to ask questions and rant."

Kit glared at him. If this was him trying to be funny, she was unamused. She wasn't even sure why she refused to speak. She just had no strength to do it.

"Your mother was a very intelligent woman, Kit," said Alastor. "And I know she's the last person you want to hear about right now. But this journal I have here contains a very good explanation of just what your father did to her. In her lucid moments, she kept this up. Had a very complex charm placed on it, so that it'd appear on my desk when she died. I think she knew I'd be the one to tell you the truth. Or she wanted me to be that person."

The brunette moved to lay on her side, still staring at him to at least demonstrate her interest in listening, but tucking her pillow under her to be ready to drift off if the conversation got overwhelming.

"First off, your father is gone. Completely MIA. Him, and all the Lestranges— your sister included. Malfoy and a couple of others are in Azkaban. We'll find them, Kit. You can be sure of that. Now, let's begin."

And so began the painful run through of what Alison Smith had gone through in her life. In her youth, she had been just like Kit. Rebellious, spontaneous, energetic, and determined. She herself had played Quidditch, a Keeper for the Slytherin team. Her father, Vincent Smith, raised her without the presence of her mother, who'd died in childbirth. He was controlling and cruel, but Alison had never let that stop her from being who she wanted to be. Unfortunately, she'd never truly been free. At thirteen, she was told that she was to marry the twenty year old son of her father's best friend. She met Kenneth Thompson within the year, and when she was fifteen, they were wed, and told that they'd become Death Eaters once Alison graduated from Hogwarts.

She had not wanted this. She had no idea that she was to be forced into the ranks of the still young Lord Voldemort, who had just graduated Hogwarts the same year she'd been born. Her refusal had angered Kenneth, who had previously been respectful. And so, the mind control began. Douglas Thompson had already been teaching his son the evil variations of the Imperious Curse that his father before him had taught him. Vincent and Douglas had helped Kenneth cast it the first time, and just like that, Alison became the obedient wife he wanted. The day she turned seventeen, he bed her, and within the year, she had given birth to Alana, who was sent to live with her godparents, Rodolphus Lestrange Sr. and Karina Lestrange, who raised her alongside their sons Rodolphus and Rabastan in order for Alison and Kenneth, who were younger, to become more prominent members of Voldemort's ranks.

It seemed that ever so often, Alison was able to remain lucid long enough to keep her journal. To write whatever she could remember. She snuck into Kenneth's journals and copied his notes about the sadistic, psyche-altering curse that she was stuck under. She tried to create a counter curse to protect herself, and proved unsuccessful. Kenneth renewed the curse too often— there were never many lucid moments in her past. But one entry stuck out, and Alastor handed it to Kit to read.

"August 31st, 1980. I am lucid post-labor, and am holding my beautiful baby girl in my arms. She is so tiny, and innocent, and I fear that this may be the last time I can remember her like this. Tomorrow, Kenneth will refresh the curse, and I have yet to find a way to fight it. It feels like I am floating, and my mind cannot fight it. When he holds it, I feel calm, and my body acts on its own, doing whatever he tells me to do. He has not refreshed it in months because of my pregnancy, and yet, I have not been able to find a way to fix it. To my beautiful daughter, who I think should be named Katherine, after my mother, who I never got to meet— I want you to one day know how loved you are, and how much joy it brings me to be able to write this in hopes that one day, you will see it. I know not whether I will ever be able to parent you the way you deserve. All I can hope is that you will not be ruined, like Alana. My eldest, your sister, is in peril. She loves another, and yet, is being forced to marry in her father's best interests. I know Kenneth is teaching Rabastan the curse now; it is only a matter of time before Alana loses herself, and it hurts that I cannot do anything more than write about it. Her curse is not the same as mine... the modifications are terrifying and I fear even in the future, my daughter will never be free. I pray, Katherine, that one day you will see this and help your sister return to Sirius Black. I met him once, and though I was not lucid, I recall his gentle eyes, and mischievous smile."

Kit felt herself crying all over again when she finished. She sniffled and gulped, shakily handing the notebook back to Alastor, who shook his head. "That is yours," he told her. "Keep it."

"I-I didn't know where my name came from," said Kit quietly, making Sirius look up at her. "I... I just thought... they picked something lame..." she shook her head. "Why— why the hell didn't Alana snap out of it? What variation did they make for her that she's completely lost it?"

"I don't know," sighed Alastor. "I hate saying that. I never want to be second best to Kenneth and yet, the lot of us always are. His intelligence would have done us very well if he worked for the Order, but instead, it became a weapon that the Death Eaters have been using time and time again."

"He just vanished?" Kit muttered. "Without a trace?"

"Seems so. He was seen, though. Fudge issued a statement acknowledging that Dumbledore and Potter had been telling the truth this whole time. Mentioned Pius Thicknesse will replace Kenneth as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. I don't doubt Kenneth will find Thicknesse and mind control him too..."

"Fudge is a fucking idiot," Kit snapped, sitting up and taking her glass of water before drinking it.

"Well, he'll be gone soon, and we've just got to will the next Minister for Magic to not be a blundering idiot. Now, about your living situation..."

"Would you like to live at Grimmauld Place?" asked Sirius, coming to sit at the foot of Kit's bed. "Unfortunately, Dumbledore does not think it wise for Harry to live with me— he believes he is more protected remaining with that dreadful sister of Lily's... but Harry thinks you should still come and live with me. We can visit him often."

"And you'd get proper training, of course," added Alastor in his usual gruff voice, though it was a bit softer now that he was talking to Kit. "I expect you wouldn't be opposed to learning a few things, would you?"

Kit started to speak, but her lip trembled. "I— I... I want... I want to learn how to send a Patronus with a message properly. I a-almost managed, but someone disrupted it because it took me to long to conjure a proper one. If... If I'd succeeded, the message would have gotten to the Order faster. My mother wouldn't be dead."

"Kit," said Sirius, coming closer and taking her hand. "Your mother's death is not your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. You were incredibly brave, and you kept a lot of your friends from being killed. She is so, so proud of you right now, and wherever she is, she's watching over you."

The Ravenclaw felt her eyes well up with tears again. "I-I'd like to live at Grimmauld Place," she said softly, her voice quivering. "I-If you'd want me there."

Sirius beamed at her, and nodded. "Of course I'd want you there. We'll have a good time. You can go see your friends whenever you'd like. We can sleep until noon and stay up all night planning pranks with Harry when he visits... we'll put our heads together and figure out how to help Alana, and we'll get you in shape to become an Order member by the time you turn seventeen, yeah? How does that sound? Oh, and well, I suppose Malfoy could come over, too, but if you two get at it, at least do me the courtesy of asking me to cast a silencing charm and—"

"Sirius!" shrieked Kit, flushing in embarrassment as she covered her face. He chuckled and pulled her in for a hug. "You're always welcome in my home, Kit. After all, if things had gone my way, I'd be your super cool brother-in-law and I'd have been a terrible influence to you when you were growing up."

At least, their chat had boosted Kit's morale a bit.

She had been released the following day. Not that she'd needed to stay as long as she did— compared to the others she'd been rather fine, just in shock and grieving. Hermione had made a steady recovery, apparently having been hit by a curse from Dolohov. Blaise and Ginny had recovered the fastest, followed by Luna, then Su and Ron, who'd been left with marks where the brains had wrapped their tentacles around them. Kit swore that she saw Su press a kiss on Ron's forehead the night before she'd been discharged, and it made her smile to think that they had grown closer after the ordeal.

They hadn't been allowed visitors aside from Order members who'd come to check in, therefore Kit had had to wait to see Draco. But when she appeared around the corner, where he'd been waiting on a bench near the Hospital Wing nearly all day for the past days, he bolted toward her and caught her in a tight hug.

"Kit Kat," he breathed, holding her so close that she had to squeak three times to let him know he was crushing her. "Shit— sorry. I didn't mean to."

She gave him a weak smile. "Hey, Smok," she said quietly. "Let's... talk."

Draco was a good listener. They had spent the day walking around the school, and Kit had told him every last detail about the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. He had held her hand throughout, caressing the back of it whenever he heard her breath hitch, or saw her blink away tears. When she had gotten to the end and told him about her mother's journal, and Alana's unique curse, he had hugged her again.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his hands rubbing over her lower back. "Really, Kit... I don't know what else to say. That never— never should have happened. I should have just gone with you... I can't believe my father..."

She pulled back, and brought her hands to his face. "You see the truth, don't you?" she whispered. "By now... you've seen and heard enough to realize how wrong they are."

"I do. And I... I am sorry I didn't see it from the start. This— this is sickening. We can't let them get away with this, we have to defeat them. Whatever it takes."

He then stopped, hesitating to say more. Kit furrowed her eyebrows. "Draco? What aren't you telling me?"

He bit his lip. "My father's letter. The one where he threatened you. I didn't... I didn't tell you the contents of it. He was mentioning that he and your father were wanting to prepare me to become a Death Eater."

Kit's heart sunk into her stomach. "Oh... and now that your father..."

"Is in Azkaban," finished Draco, "well... now I have to. I... I don't have a choice. Otherwise, they'll kill my mother. She didn't help with any of this, and I know they'll see her as useless. I... I'm the only thing that will keep her safe. If I don't do this they'll just kill the lot of us."

For a long moment, neither spoke. They listened to the other's breathing, how it steadied or picked up in tune with their thoughts. There were times they wanted to say something, but didn't know if they should. Eventually, it was Kit who let out a soft sigh.

"You don't have a choice, do you?" she mumbled, mostly to herself. "You have to, or Narcissa is dead."

Draco gave a slow nod. He was determined to not get sentimental. But this terrified him. He never wanted to become a Death Eater, never wanted to become a killer. The last thing he'd ever desired was to join their ranks. Even when he'd thoroughly believed the lies his father drilled into his head about superiority and the natural order of the world. He never wanted to have to work for the Dark Lord. But now, there was no other option, unless he'd rather see his mother killed, and experience death himself.

"I... I'll do it with you," said Kit suddenly, before she'd had much time to think about it.

"No." It flew out of Draco's mouth so instinctively. "Absolutely not. I won't ask you to give up your freedom like that, Kit Kat. It's way too dangerous. You almost died the other day and you've just lost your mother. Your sister is too cursed to be of any help and your father is going to make this really bad— no. You can't. Don't you dare ever suggest something like that again."

"I can't let you go through it alone!" she said, stepping away from him. "You should never have to deal with that by yourself!"

"Kit, you shouldn't even be considering getting involved with Death Eaters! They'll destroy you! You're a blood traitor to them, and they will either murder you outright or hurt you in sickening ways! I won't let you put yourself in danger— you're insane if you think I'd agree to something like this!"

"Draco, I'd be doing it alongside you— they wouldn't object! I... I know it's a risk but—"

"IT'S SUICIDE!" bellowed Draco, looking livid. "No— you've lost your bloody mind. You can't tell me that after you've looked death in the eye, you really think it wise to insert yourself into the single most dangerous organization in this country! NO!"

Kit growled. How could she tell him that she no longer cared if she lived or died? How could she convey that she didn't feel her life had meaning anymore? "This isn't your choice, it's mine. You don't get to tell me whether or not I can choose this."

"Yes I fucking can!" he snapped. "I may not have a choice, but if I did, you wouldn't want me to do it either! ADMIT IT!"

"It doesn't matter what would happen if you did have a choice, because the point is that you don't, and I don't want you to go through it alone—"

"Did our conversation before mean nothing to you?! Kit, I'm dangerous to you! I hurt you! This is a perfect fucking example of it— you're willing to throw everything away just for my sake! I'm— I'm ruining you!"

"You're not ruining me! Draco, I want this— I don't care about anything else anymore, I won't have you suffering alone with them—"

"NO!" he spat, so forcefully that Kit flinched. "No, no, no, no! If you even dare— dare to show up— dare to think about this again, I swear— I will— I will—"

"You'll what?" she said quietly, taking a tiny step back. Her eyes were wide with fear. For an instant, she actually thought she'd made him angry enough to retaliate. Never before had she been so convinced me might harm her. Sure, he had been mad before, but never to this extent. It didn't help that she could still see her father, standing over her, ready to kill her, a gleeful look on his face after he forced her to watch her mother die...

She had zoned out unknowingly, and when she came to, Draco was gone. She managed to see his figure turn the corner quickly. Letting out a shaky sigh, she hugged herself, rubbing her arms and sinking to the ground, right in the middle of the hallway.

She didn't know what to do. What to think. Everything felt confusing and wrong and empty. Was she even meant to be standing here? Was anything ever going to change, or was this meant to be her life for all of eternity?

She wanted more than anything to protect Draco. To keep him out of harm's way. And yet, this time, she was powerless. Her only thought was that somehow, she had to help him, and her impulses were screaming at her to just shove aside her pride and take the Dark Mark, for his sake, so that he wouldn't be alone. She didn't care if it put her in danger. She had been unable to protect her mother, and she had lost her, and Merlin be damned if she was going to dare let the same thing happened to Draco. Not if she could help it.

When the term ended, she didn't see Draco. He'd been avoiding her. Kit knew why. In his mind, he thought that if he abandoned her, she'd stop caring about him, and lose her attachment to him, meaning she'd be safe on the inevitable day that he joined the Dark Lord. But Kit was relentless, and though she did not see him on the Hogwarts Express on the last day, she knew better than to give up on him. She cared too much to let him go.

She, Su, Blaise, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and Harry had sat together on the ride back to King's Cross. They'd talked, played chess (which Kit was still very bad at). Harry had purchased several sweets for them to share, and for a moment, Kit had felt like a normal teenager.

Except she wasn't. Her sixteenth birthday would come the day before she returned for her sixth year. By now, she'd seen and gone through too much to even consider herself remotely normal. Everything about her was bizarre and complicated. Anyone else's biggest worry that summer would be their O.W.L. scores and nothing more. For Kit, it was the ongoing problem of how she'd make things right, and either save Draco, Narcissa, and Alana, or take the Dark Mark and lose her new freedom.

The group had exited the train and the magical barrier upon arrival and dispersed. Luna had happily gone to meet her father, Neville had found his Gran in the crowd, and Su had bade them farewell as she skipped over to her mother, who was waiting with open arms, though she looked different, as though disguised. The rest of them remained together, and were greeted by an unexpected crowd.

There was Alastor Moody, looking quite as sinister with his bowler hat pulled low over his magical eye as he would have done without it, his gnarled hands clutching a long staff, his body wrapped in a voluminous travelling cloak. Tonks stood just behind him, her bright bubble‐gum‐pink hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the dirty glass of the station ceiling, wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T‐shirt bearing the legend The Weird Sisters. Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair greying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers. At the front of the group stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, dressed in their Muggle best, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand‐new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material. A great black dog was closest to them, and it bounded closer when it saw them.

"Hi, Snuffles," Kit said with a small giggle. She supposed it was not yet completely safe for Sirius to be seen out in public.

"Ron, Ginny!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying forwards and hugging her children tightly "Oh, Harry, Kit, Hermione... and Blaise! I remember you!"

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Blaise said sheepishly. He then looked behind them and looked at Kit as if to say 'be