The Black Sisters

Seventy-six

Unread letters, torn up sheets, books on the floor, a book box with its contends lying all strewn about the place; that is what her room looked like at the moment. She refused to let anyone in and she just layed in her bed day after day only getting up for basic human functions. She ignored sephs letters, they eventually stopped coming. She ignored narcisssas knocks and she eventually stopped coming. All of this had been nothing to dorea, she felt nothing.

The world seemed to tick by leaving dorea behind in the past. She had had a chance once. A chance to leave and live, but like the coward she was she hadn't taken it and now it was to late. Her mother didn't come knocking. The house elves only brought up food and left never staying to chat. She had no one. She didn't have  regulus anymore.

So dorea stayed and in some twisted way that was just as brave as leaving was. But dorea didn't feel brave. No she felt something very different from bravery. Her world had fallen apart and she was falling with it. She'd jumped off the side of her tight rope hurtling down the endless canyon to her eventual demise. And in some cruel way she was excited to hit the ground. Excited to have endless nothing and quiet and peace. Away from everyone.

Three years ago she would have been worried about how everybody would remember her. But now she couldn't care less. Because when you're dead you are given the most beautiful gift of all; not caring anymore. Dorea was so broken beyond repair she might as well have just flung herself into concrete.

She had pushed away everyone that loved her. Everyone that would help her.
"I can't tell Sirius. I can't tell James. I can't tell seph. I can't tell anyone. Because they'd all hate me more than they already do." She spoke only to herself as she brushed out her curls and braided them into neat French braids. She clasped Regulus' necklace around her neck tucking in the pendant and grabbed her trunk. She'd asked the house elves to clean up her room but they hadn't gotten to it yet so she had to moneuvoir around all the broken pieces of her past life which was actually more difficult than she had planned. The unread letters from Sirius, Andie, and Seph all strewn about on the floor. It looked as if she'd just been robbed.

When she finally made it out the door she sighed and took a look around the old living room. It was her childhood. The one she didn't have access to anymore. It was all so frozen in time. Everything in this house was the same and when anything changed they shut and locked the door. The only consistent change is the build up of dust on every piece of furniture in the house, without father, mother rarely ventures into the untouched areas of the house. The old attic surely hasn't been touched in a decade.

Everything was the same, even when everything was different. She shook her head and continued on her way. When she got down the stairs she reached out and grabbed her mother's elbow apparating to Kings Cross station. It all spun around her as she sat in her little bubble of guilt and denial. A bubble no one could penetrate even if they tried. She was untouchable in her little world of horrors. Even when her mind was untouchable her body however was not. Eager students jostled around her pushing her this way and that. Her expression of nothing soon turned into one of pure anxiety trying to find a way out of the crowd. This didn't feel as natural as it used to. Being around all these people caused sweat to drip down her temple.

She hurried onto the train and rushed to the hufflepuff cabins. She sat down in an empty compartment and looked out the window anxious to escape. She knew she should have brought a book with her. At this rate she'd be fleeing out of Hogwarts with nothing but her wand. She pulled the door curtains down so no one would come looking for her in here. She was done with all the dramatic stuff making her the victim. She was tired of being the victim all the time. There was a time in her life when she wanted to be the hero. But nonetheless here she is no longer the victim but the villain.
***
The ride to hogs Meade felt longer than it usually did. But usually she talked to people and was laughing. This year she felt every minute tick by around her. When the train finally stopped she waited until most of the students had already gotten off to avoid anyone really noticing her. She just had to channel her behavior from all the balls. She had to hide in plain sight. It was simple really, blend in, don't do anything to cause attention to yourself but do enough to not make your plan obvious.