Decima's sixth year at Hogwarts was far less eventful than her fifth, at that was good. Regulus left her alone at Prefect meetings, mostly because he was very afraid of James and Remus, not to mention what might happen if they told Sirius he was attempting to speak to her. Gwen ruled Quidditch with an iron fist and he never got closer than ten feet to her during practice.
When the Marauders weren't around, which wasn't very often, Decima had the added bonus of friendship with Tien, whom anyone with half a lick of sense was terrified of, and even more terrified of upsetting.
Gryffindor won that year. Not just the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game, but the Quidditch Cup, the House Cup, and literally every award given to seventh years at graduation, except Potions, which Lily shared with Severus Snape. Gryffindors also won all of the spots afforded by Dumbledore to his secret society called the Order of the Phoenix, combating the Death Eaters in their attempts to take over the Wizarding world. In fact, all of the Marauders and Lily joined the group.
Mary had been invited as well, but Mary was dead within a month graduating. Death Eaters attacked her home, killed her whole family before her eyes, and then magically exsanguinated her and hung her body for display in front of the house before casting the Dark Mark over the roof. The Aurors found her hours later, and they never caught the Death Eaters responsible.
Four days later, Lily and James married in a quiet, small ceremony, with Sirius as the best man and Decima and Gwen as bridesmaids. Tien was unable to attend. For a few short hours, everyone was happy, everyone forgot the war.
Mere hours after the final song of the night, Mad-Eye Moody called the Order members together. Sirius came back after an hour looking solemn, sober, and distraught as he told Decima that they Caradoc Dearborn had completely disappeared and Benjy Fenwick had been found, or rather, pieces of him had. Without a doubt, they were both dead.
Decima was not named Head Girl, and she didn't mind. Between school, Quidditch, and keeping up with Sirius, making sure everyone was safe, her seventh year was more than busy enough. The highlight of the year was when Sirius visited her on a Hogsmeade weekend. He had been in the area for a mission and said he couldn't resist taking her to the Three Broomsticks, just to remember life when it was simpler.
Five days later, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were murdered by Death Eaters, the Potter Manor destroyed, and Sirius was inconsolable. Decima had been allowed to attend the funeral, and she had never seen him so distraught. In truth, the Potters had been the closest thing she had ever had to parents, and she was equally horrified at their end. The one consolation was that it had been painless.
Lily and James were not in attendance for Decima, Tien, and Gwen's graduation. Remus, Peter and Sirius were there, but the other two were attending their second funeral of the year: Mr. and Mrs. Evans had died in a car crash.
Apparently, the funeral was not a good experience. Lily's cow of a sister Petunia showed up with her walrus fiancé and gave Lily quite a tongue-lashing, blaming the death of their parents on her, saying somehow it was because she was a "freak".
Lily did not attending the cow's wedding, subsequently. She went out for ice cream sundaes with Gwen, Tien, and Decima, and complained about all of the stupid things her sister had done growing up, like not checking for push or pull signs on doors before attempting to open them. It was probably the most pathetic rant Decima had ever heard, but it seemed to be good for Lily to get it all out, so the other girls listened silently, exchanging glances and murmuring words of comfort or agreement every now and then.
The true end of innocence came in August. Tien, Gwen, and Decima had joined the Order. Tien and Gwen weren't there, but they had been gone off and on for missions lately and nobody thought twice about their absence as they sat down around the table for a meeting near the end of August.
"We have some bad news that's going to hit our newest members hard," growled Alastor Moody, "regarding a Gwen Bittner."
Decima saw Remus perk up, his eyes wide and fearful.
"Her body was discovered last night, mauled, chewed, and gored," whispered Fabian Prewett. "It was Greyback."
Before anyone else had time to react, Remus stood up rapidly, knocking his chair over and walking swiftly to the hall. Sirius, Decima and James went after him while Lily sobbed onto Peter's shoulder. They found Remus in the sitting room, upturning all of the furniture, throwing books across the room and growling viciously. Decima began moving toward him, but James held her back.
"Moony?" said Sirius softly.
Remus kept his destructive frenzy going, not hearing Sirius, or perhaps not wanting to. Decima broke out of James's hold and moved slowly toward Remus, ignoring James and Sirius as they hissed at her to stop. When she got close enough, Decima wrapped her arms around Remus's waist, holding on tightly as he thrashed around wildly for a minute, howling, before collapsing, panting for air, tears streaming down his face as he clutched Decima tightly and moaning pitifully.
"Shh..." soothed Decima. "Let it out, Remus. It's going to be okay."
His sobs broke her heart, but there would be time for her own grief later. Now, Remus needed her.
"I loved her," Remus sobbed. "I loved her so much, CiCi, and now she's gone and I don't know how to live without her."
"You're going to be okay, Remus," whispered Decima. "Gwen knew you loved her, and she loved you so much. She would want you to be strong and keep fighting. It's okay to hurt, love, but don't give up."
They felt like such empty words, but they seemed to help Remus. At least, he seemed to calm somewhat.
Decima's dreams of a normal life shattered on that day. Her best friend since before she could remember, the girl who had stood beside her after all her other friends had abandoned her, was dead. Order members were dropping like flies. The likelihood that she and Sirius would survive the war was so small, so pathetic. How could she possibly imagine bringing a child into this world? How incredibly selfish would that be?
Months later, Lily informed them that she and James were expecting a child, a son in fact. Actually, everyone seemed to be growing up except for Sirius and Decima. Marriages were happening left and right, children being conceived at an alarming rate. Even Christa and Philomela married, said the Daily Prophet, to Yaxley and Regulus. They got their respectable pureblood marriages, and Decima was simply trying to ride out the wave of the chaos of war with the boy who didn't seem to mature past seventeen.
Except, of course, when they were with the Order. There, he was all business, more mature than some of his far older peers. The war was incredibly personal to him.
One evening, Decima received an owl she didn't recognize with a very short not attached.
Decima's eyes scanned the note. It was from Christa. It didn't appear to be a trick or a trap... the Three Broomsticks... She could be reasonably assured of safety there. She shoved the note into her pocket and grabbed her cloak.
"Where are you going?" said Sirius urgently, dropping the newspaper in his hand.
"The Three Broomsticks."
"Why?" he demanded. "Who are you going with?"
"I've gotten a letter from Christa."
"What?" Sirius yelped. "No, CiCi, you can't! You know her brother and husband are Death Eaters! She could have the mark for all you know!"
His eyes were desperate and pleading, but Decima fastened her cloak.
"I don't expect to be long, love. If you think something's wrong, by all means, come after me, but I expect she's meeting me behind her husband's back, from the tone of the note. I love you, darling," she added, kissing Sirius gently before stepping into the hall and Apparating to Hogsmeade.
The night air was cold and stiff as she marched purposefully to the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta was serving a man with one arm, and Decima strolled over to her.
"Decima Zimmerman!" said Rosmerta, surprised. "How lovely to see you! Firewhiskey?"
"No, a butterbeer I think, Rosmerta," said Decima softly. "Have you seen Mrs. Yaxley tonight?"
Rosmerta handed her a foaming tankard and nodded, pointing to the very back corner of the room where a lone figure sat, cloaked and hooded, holding a gillywater with a shaking hand. Decima thanked Rosmerta, paid and made her way to the table where her old friend sat, clearly upset.
"Christa," said Decima, pulling up a chair. "What news?"
"There is much," murmured Christa from behind her hood. "Two deaths, Decima, one a mystery and one a horrific tragedy."
"Who?" prompted Decima, her mind reeling with all of the people she hoped might be dead.
"Regulus," hissed Christa, "and Philomela."
Decima blinked. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but that wasn't it. She nodded stiffly and allowed Christa to explain.
"R-Regulus had been missing s-several days. Tonight, at a m-meeting, Evan said the Dark Lord asked for him. Evan told him that Regulus was missing, and the Dark Lord said that he had died, and he wanted to know how. N-none of the Death Eaters knew, so he called for Philomela and me. She didn't know, but he tortured her a-and then he k-killed her, out of fury, I suppose." She swallowed roughly. "The s-screams, Decima... I've never heard anything so horrific."
Decima shuddered, trying not to imagine it, trying not to wonder how Regulus died.
"I'm alone in the snake pit now," muttered Christa, "and you, alone in the lion's den, little snake."
"I'm not alone," whispered Decima, "and you don't have to be. We can get you out of there, Christa, provide you protection–"
"No," said Christa firmly. "No, thank you, Decima, but my place is in the snake pit."
"It doesn't have to be," urged Decima. "You're terrified, Christa. How long before you're the one beign tortured or killed?"
"I'm not you, CiCi!" cried Christa. "I'm not strong enough to leave! This is all I know."
Decima wanted to smack her, shake her, scream at her, and force her to see reason. But Decima remembered how she had felt when Sirius begged her to leave with him all those years ago. She had said no, too.
"I understand, KiKi," she whispered. "If that's all, I should go before Sirius sends out a search party. Let me know if you change your mind. You know how to reach me."
Christa nodded sharply. Decima stepped outside and Disapparated, landing in that same hall she had left from to find Sirius standing there, anxiously awaiting her return. She smiled weakly at him.
"How did it go?" he whispered, and she snapped. Decima collapsed to the floor in tears, sobbing violently, and Sirius rushed to hold her, pulling her onto his lap and rocking her gently in his strong arms. "What happened, darling?" he cooed in her ear soothingly.
Decima told Sirius everything that Christa had told her, and she was surprised that he had no emotional reaction to the news that his brother was dead.
"And I asked her to come with him, and she wouldn't," sobbed Decima. "She kept talking about her place and how she wasn't strong enough to leave. I know I shouldn't judge but I wanted to make her see reason! They'll kill her, Sirius, and there's nothing I can do!"
Sirius simply rocked her for a moment before whispering in her ear, "Now you understand how I felt, darling, when I ran away from home and you wouldn't let me take you with me. I almost didn't leave, but I know I couldn't protect you if I was dead."
She shivered.
"Such a sweet girl," Decima murmured. "What a way to go."
And for a while, things were in that rhythm. Lily and James had their son, Harry. Sirius was named his godfather. The world turned upside down once again, however, when the Potters and Longbottoms were told by Dumbledore to go into hiding. For a while, they abided by the typical enchantments and lying low, but Dumbledore received some sort of intelligence and the Potters were told secretly to find a Secret-Keeper. They would require a Fidelius Charm for their protection.
Sirius had been the obvious choice, and Decima informed him that if he didn't think about this, they would probably have to go into hiding as well. Things had become so strained between them over the issue that by late October, when the spell was performed, they were hardly speaking, despite living under the same roof and sleeping in the same bed. She knew that with time, everything would be all right, but he needed to sulk over the stress of the situation for a while. She had learned from the Death Eater attack during her fifth year that Sirius took out his frustration in unusual ways, and she gave him all of the space he needed.
October 30th, he left late at night, and she didn't ask where he was going. It was possible he was checking on the Potters. He did that fairly regularly. Or perhaps he had gone to a whorehouse to get out some frustration without hurting her. He had only done that once since they were out of school, but she knew he was very upset over the fight, and she told herself that she would forgive him for whatever he might do.
The next night, it was a little bit of a different story.
"I'm off to check on Peter," whispered Sirius. He did that sometimes, checking in on Peter, Remus, Tien, making sure everyone was still alive and mentally okay between Order meetings. "I won't belong."
He kissed her forehead, grabbed his cloak and paused before leaving the bedroom.
"I love you, CiCi," he whispered, and he left the room, leaving Decima alone in the dark, silent room. She couldn't explain it, but something felt horribly wrong, not like the night before. Her heart was pounding furiously. After three hours of staring alone at the ceiling, Decima crawled out of bed, dressed, and pulled on her cloak, Apparating to the front of Peter's building. She walked up to his flat, but the door was open, and no one was there. No sign of a struggle... Her heart was racing. Where was Sirius? Had he lied to her? Something was wrong.
"Hello, Decima," said a smooth voice behind her, and she spun around. Lucius Malfoy's cruel face sneered down at her and she took a step back, into the wall. He laughed.
"Now, now, pet, no need for that. Just come with me quietly and there will be no need for anyone to get hurt."
"No," she moaned. "Please, no. Where's Sirius?"
"I'm not the keeper of your lover," he spat, grabbing her arm and Disapparating swiftly. When they arrived in the Malfoy Manor, she collapsed to the floor, hot pain shooting across her arm. She had been splinched. The wound wasn't deep, but it was wide and long and she was losing blood fast.
"Stupid man!" shrieked a woman nearby. "You splinched her! Cissy, hurry up and heal it so we can get on with things!"
The blonde form of Narcissa Malfoy hovered over Decima, tending the wound carefully but quickly. Bellatrix Black Lestrange and Lucius were whispering nearby, and something he said made Bellatrix's eyes light up with manic glee. She whispered urgently to Narcissa, who nodded and rushed out of the room.
"Now, now, little Decima," said Bellatrix gleefully, "We're to ask you a few questions, and you're going to answer them."
"Firstly," muttered Lucius, "when did you last see Regulus Black?"
"When I left Hogwarts," hissed Decima. She had seen him once or twice since then, but they didn't need to know that. They had been mere been glimpses in passing on the street.
"And do you know where our Master is?" demanded Bellatrix.
"No," said Decima cheekily. "Have you misplaced him?"
But Bellatrix didn't find it funny. In fact, she lashed out with a forceful Cruciatus Curse and Decima felt pain in every part of her, screaming and writhing on the floor. After what felt like hours, but was probably only about ten minutes, the curse lifted and she fell limp, too exhausted for anything.
"I think," drawled Lucius, "that it is my turn to persuade her, Bella. You'll get another go at her in the morning."
Surprisingly, Bellatrix's sadistic smile did not fade, and she left the room, leaving Decima gasping on the floor, Lucius standing over her. After watching her for a moment, he scooped her up and carried her down the hall to the study, where he laid her body down on a divan, the same one, she thought, that Orion Black had raped her on years ago. His touch was almost gentle, and she was too weak to move.
She winced as he ran a finger along her cheek. When he began stripping her clothes off her body, she gasped, but had not the energy to resist. His lips explored her bare skin, and she whimpered, but he ignored her. He slithered out of his own clothes and climbed on top of her, his eyes burning with a manic fire that could have rivaled that of his sister-in-law.
"Please," she managed to whimper, and he smirked as he entered her, thrusting in and out as she shrieked in pain. She was sure there was a tear, she must be bleeding...
It felt as though he was thrusting in and out of her forever, but eventually he came inside of her, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, whispering, "I've wanted to do that for so long."
He left her on the divan, bleeding, crying, and naked. She did not sleep. She knew that sooner than she could handle, Bellatrix would be torturing her again.
Sure enough, before a bird even chirped, Bellatrix and Lucius were back, looking surprisingly solemn. Bellatrix slapped her hard across the face.
"Tell me what you know about Harry Potter," the woman hissed.
"He's a baby," croaked Decima defiantly. "He can barely walk."
Bellatrix hissed angrily.
"It might interest you to know," Lucius drawled, examining his nails, "that Sirius Black is in Azkaban."
"W-what?" gasped Decima. "What for?"
"For murdering thirteen people on a crowded Muggle street, I believe."
"No," she said firmly. "I don't believe you!"
"Now, now, darling," drawled Lucius, "is it really so hard to believe? You know the Blacks, ferocious tempers and incredibly short fuses. And here I thought you were an expert on Black men."
She whimpered at the implication and wanted to smack herself for the sound. Bellatrix snarled.
"Enough of this!" she shrieked. "Now, you silly girl, we have important things to discuss. When killing the Potters, the Dark Lord's power broke. We need to find him."
"The Potters?" Decima gasped. "They're... they're dead?"
Bellatrix sneered.
"Yes, and the world is better off without their filth. Now, dear, who will have the information we need to find the Dark Lord?"
Decima knew, of course, who might know, but she didn't say a word, just glared up at Bellatrix defiantly.
"Let's not make this messy, Decima," drawled Lucius. "A name or two and you're free."
"Liar," she spat. He smirked and she knew she was right. No matter what she told them, they weren't just going to let her go.
After six hours, the Cruciatus Curse felt a lot like dying, except without the release of the end. Decima would have liked to die. Lily and James were gone. Gwen was gone. Sirius was gone. She had nothing left to fight for. Before she even realized what she was doing, she moaned, "Frank and Alice."
"What was that, love?" said Bellatrix, her wand dropped.
"F-Frank and Alice Longbottom," whimpered Decima.
"See now, sweet, was that so bad?" leered Lucius.
Decima groaned, falling limp, hearing pieces of the whispers of her captors and knowing before that jet of green light hit her that she was going to die, and she didn't mind.
/-/
Bellatrix Lestrange, his evil deranged cousin, was sitting in the cell across from him, and Sirius glared at her furiously, as though his anger would hurt her. He wanted it to hurt her. It would have been something to do. There was nothing to do in Azkaban.
"Tell me, Sirius," she hissed at him, not long after she and her husband had arrived with two other Death Eaters, "what is it like to know you were the end of them all?"
He clenched his fists, trying not to rise to her taunts. He wanted so badly to hurt her.
"Your precious Potters, dead because of you, because you weren't brave enough to protect them properly, because you were afraid your little CiCi would get hurt if you did the right thing."
Decima. He had left her all alone, and now there was no one to protect her, to hold her, to tell him how sorry he was and how much he loved her.
"She screamed so beautifully."
He shook his head. That didn't mean what he thought it meant. Decima was out there somewhere, with Remus, safe and alive, a roof over her head. Maybe she would find somebody else, someone who actually deserved her. Maybe she and Remus could get over their lost loves together. His heart ached at the thought.
"The screams when Lucius raped her were wonderful. I almost wish I could have witnessed it."
"No," he whispered hoarsely. No, he couldn't have. She was fine. She was safe.
"And then torturing her, it was such a delicious treat. You would have been proud, baby cousin. She withheld information for hours under the Cruciatus Curse. Too bad for your precious Order that she broke in the end. Don't worry, her death was painless, and we got the information we wanted. Frank and Alice Longbottom are in St. Mungo's now, completely out of their minds. They were useless, but it was worth trying."
"No!" Sirius cried grasping the bars frantically, snarling at her cackling form. "You're lying! She's alive! She's safe!"
Bellatrix merely laughed.
"No, Sirius," she hissed, barely more than a whisper. "The only reason you're even reacting is because you know I'm telling the truth. Decima Zimmerman is dead."
The news, the realization that it wasn't a lie, hit Sirius so acutely that he actually physically staggered backwards, walking back to the far wall to the sound and rhythm of his mad cousin's cackling, sinking to the dirty stone floor feeling colder, darker, emptier than he had that morning. She was gone. She was dead. He never got to say good-bye. The pathetic farewell he had given on the night of the 31st of October felt wildly insufficient.
Peter Pettigrew would pay, if it was the last thing Sirius ever accomplished.
A/N: And that's the end! I realize it's not very happy, but I've had this whole chapter planned out from the very beginning. Sorry if you guys don't like it, but this is the way I think, the types of stories I tend to write. And it's totally canon. Let me know what you guys think! I never could have fathomed the sort of incredible response this story has gotten when I began, less than a year ago, and I'm very proud with how it's gone. Thank you for taking this ride with me, and I hope to see you in some of my other literary journeys!
-J