"I write her a letter
just a few short lines,
and suffer death
a thousand times."
Asteria O'Connor, sole heir of a prestigious wizarding family,
has other plans when the self-proclaimed Marauders decide to
torment her and her housemates.
It's abo...
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aster
I flop onto my – well, Sirius' – bed, exhausted. Shopping with Walburga Black is no joke. Every single place that we went to she managed to scare the owners into halving or even getting rid of the price. It's only ten in the morning and I'm pretty sure we visited every bloody shop in England.
Today is my last day at the Black household and it's been lovely.. most of the time. When I'm around anybody other than Regulus and Kreacher I find it quite stifling, always having to watch how I come across and what I say.
Myself and Regulus were given strict instructions on the fourth day of my stay to keep ourselves in his room without making a sound. We could hear plotting chatter as well as long deafening silences coming up from the floorboards.
I never knew silences could be so loud, as if someone was screaming a voidless noise.
I knew that the Dark Lord was there. I could feel his presence. I felt like itching at my skin as if to scrape it off me and I felt completely trapped, despite holding onto Reg's hand for almost the entire two hours. I try to ignore the fact that I will most likely be serving that man within the next few years.
I turn over onto my back but immediately want to return to my original position. Plastered to the ceiling is a very graphic picture of three blonde girls wearing nothing but leather jackets, riding a Muggle motorcycle. I know that poking out from the multiple posters above me are constellations, littering the ceiling – an enchanted ceiling, much like the one at Hogwarts. You can only see them when the lights are turned off. Myself and the oldest Black brother used to try and count the stars when I'd stay over, eventually falling asleep before we were done. I used to be able to name every constellation by heart. Not anymore.
One point shines brighter than all of the others. Some call it Alpha Canis Majoris or the Dog Star, whereas most know it as the star Sirius.
I turn to the side and instead look at the shelves on the wall. Since the first night I stayed here, I've tried not to go through any of Sirius' old things. Even if I do hate his guts, he still deserves privacy. I've been very respectful. However, I'm a naturally curious person. And does he really deserve my respect?
I slide off the bed and walk over to the shelves. I inspect them carefully, trying not to touch anything as if he'd somehow be notified that I'm snooping through his things. There's the usual things that I would've expected; old tattered books, some silver rings and a couple pictures that must've been taken on a Muggle camera because they don't seem to be moving. I can only see the ones that are spread out at the top. They display either group photographs of the Marauders mucking about and being themselves, or candid shots of them individually.
