Black Hole

"Never Going Back Again"

Lyra-Jade wept as Mrs. Potter poured warm water all over her small, naked body. Goosebumps assembled across her fair skin. Her chest heaved up and down and up and down. The peculiar feeling of tears rapidly pooling out of her grey eyes was quite foreign to her; she hadn't cried this unyielding or fiercely since she was a child. As her whimpers continued, Mrs. Potter lathered her hands with a heavenly lavender smelling soap and began to gently scrub away at her skin, whispering soft, solacing words.

"It'll be okay, little one. You're safe now. We will take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen." 

Safe. Safe. Safe.

The word spun in her head while she was being cleansed of the dirt and memories. Safe. What a joke. She would never be safe. No, no, no. Not until she was dead.

The older witches' words only made Lyra-Jade weep harder. She could hardly breathe. Oxygen entered and exited her lungs too quickly, making her breathes and wails come out haggard and almost in-human like. She felt as though she would never know how to properly breathe again. Her head pounded and couldn't form a proper, collected thought. Her stomach was doing summersaults inside her. She was sure the boys could hear her cries, but, honestly, she couldn't give less of a shit. She was tired. Exhausted. From holding everything in all the time, from pretending to be an emotionless bitch, from pretending to be everything she was supposed to be.

So she let it all out. Every tear left unshed over the past sixteen years of her life. All out, pouring into the bath water, salty tears mingling with lavender bath water. Right in front of one of her best friend's mother.

Once Mrs. Potter was done cleaning her up, she enveloped her shaking body into a warm robe, hands on her shoulders, rubbing small circles and continuing her chant of encouragements and vows of safety. She led the crying girl to a velvet-cushioned chair in front of the large vanity in the middle of the bathroom, sitting her down. She began to brush her long black hair with a certain softness, then plaited it into a single braid. Her Mother had never brushed or braided her hair before.

"Do you just want your brother?" Mrs. Potter asked as she finished off her braid with a small elastic, "I can make the other boys leave the room, which I assume they're all huddled in waiting for you."

"Yes p-please," said muttered her small voice, hoarse from the cries, "Just Suh-Suh-Sirius."

She would face the others tomorrow. Now, she just needed her big brother.

"I'll be right back, dear. I'm going to fetch you a nighty as well." Mrs. Potter said with a small, sad smile as she hugged Lyra-Jade from behind, kissed the top of her wet head, and then left the room.

Lyra-Jade looked into the mirror in front of her. Tears were still streaming down her face, but at a slower rate now. Her eyes where red and puffy. Her nose was red as well, with a bit of snot running under neath it. Dark circles encapsulated her eyes. She looked a ruddy mess. A loud, depressing sounding sigh left her mouth.

Mrs. Potter returned to the large bathroom, a soft pink nighty in her hands. Lyra-Jade assumed that it was one of hers. "Sent James and Remus off, they did not like that too much. But Sirius is waiting for you, dear."

"Th- thank you." She inwardly cringed at the sound of her voice, so small, so weak. She sounded like a child. Couldn't even speak properly. Her brain was much too jumbled from the curses flung at her only hours before.

Mrs. Potter quietly and carefully took off Lyra-Jade's robe for her.

"The marks will be red and sore for a little, but nothing too bad," she told her, "Nothing too bad... but some scars may be left. You never know with dark magic." Lyra-Jade surveyed her fully bare body, which was ridden with pink marks.