the_debt_of_time

had been their severe lack of talent at Occlumency that caused Mia to dig deeper into their
minds, to erect barriers of her own—as dangerously close to Dark Magic as Mia had ever
come, save for the few times she had attempted to kill Death Eaters, once succeeding.
Pandora's words echoed in her mind while she filtered her way through Frank and
Alice's. "You're not the tears of the phoenix, Mia Potter." She could not save anyone. She could
not change the future. "Don't you see? You're the song." She could not heal, but she could help.
She could give courage and hope to those who needed it most. She would not be able to
save Frank and Alice from the fate that awaited them, but she could bring something back
to Neville—if she was ever able to go back, that is.
Mia struggled to burrow inside of the minds of her friends where she secretly built
barriers, walls, and shields as strong as she could manage over a sensory area she was all
too familiar with: the part of the mind that the Cruciatus Curse specifically attacked. While
she could not prevent her friends from ending up in St Mungo's, at least she could tell
Neville that she had done what she could to make certain they would not suffer as much
as she knew they would normally under a Cruciatus.
"Just give me a minute," she said as she fell into her big fluffy armchair, summoning
an Invigoration Draught for herself.
During the two hours spent working with the Longbottoms, Sirius had slowly
calmed down. After watching her work with their friends in a way that strained them all,
he looked as though he were beginning to understand that this was not something to be
casual about. This was a serious talent, and one that he was now required to learn. At least,
she hoped he was beginning to understand. He had stopped glaring at her, which she
considered a victory.
After the draught kicked in and her energy returned, Mia stood up to face Sirius.
"I'm good."
Sirius, tantrum apparently over, slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. He
bounced on his feet, grinning, and stretched his neck, looking like a boxer ready to step
into the ring. "Now which of our lovely nights together would you like me to keep from
you, kitten? Hogwarts? Bathtubs? Backyard?"
His smile faded, replaced by a look of worry when she refused to take the bait.
"What?" he asked. "Why are you looking at me like—?"