Marauders Era Short Stories

Grimmauld Place

Grimmauld Place. The house of the ancient and noble name Black since its creation. It has seen many Blacks lose their mind, leave and scream. It has never been anyone's home even if they claimed it to be, it has just been a house. It has been cold since day one. It feeds on misery. Many of its members have been tortured by their parents who either couldn't take it anymore and fled or became the torturer themselves. It was a cycle, a never-ending cycle but Grimmauld Place lived for it, lives for it.

No one lives here now for the Blacks all have perished in the wars. But, even today Grimmauld Place stands tall with its head high bearing witness to the insanities of the Blacks. It's still as cold and gloomy. No amount of cleaning charms can get rid of its gloominess, believe me, people tried. At last, its owner stopped trying to decorate it because he didn't even want it in the first place.

Let me take you back to a time when the Blacks occupied its rooms. It wasn't much different then. Just as quiet and cold but a lot shinier. Goblin-made gold ornaments and jewels hang on its walls and chandeliers. The garden has been well taken care of. A family of four occupies its space, Orion, Walburga, Sirius and Regulus. Sometimes their relatives visit too. Mostly Cygnus and Druella and their three daughters Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa.

The house bear witness to all their misery. It saw Bellatrix slowly losing her mind, trying to please her parents to the point of becoming unhinged. It saw Andromeda slowly losing her faith in everything the Blacks stood for, falling in love, crying because she didn't know who to choose and at last leaving. It saw Narcissa cry because she didn't know what to do when one of her sisters joined the war and one ran away. It saw Sirius rebelling against his parents, leaving and at last slowly losing his mind over the years before he died for good. It saw Regulus hide away from pain and fear before gathering up the little bit of courage he had and giving in to all his fears. And it enjoyed it.

Grimmauld place enjoyed every single misery it brought upon the member of the Black family. Never a home, only someplace to live, that's what they called it. That's how every single one of them thought and described Grimould place.

Bellatrix was born mad, a little unhinged from the start. She wanted glory. And she blindly believed everything the Blacks taught her. She was a little girl when she first saw something die. It was a white rabbit, passing London's busy street, trying to get to the park opposite Grimmauld place. But it didn't make it. A car crashed into him and the rabbit died. Bellatrix watched, mesmerized. There was a feeling inside of her that she couldn't describe. She liked watching the rabbit die but she also hated it. Hated the muggles that did it to the rabbit. Grimmauld place love it. Loved how unhinged she was at only five.

Andromeda was a little kinder, gentler. She hated watching that but she didn't exactly hate the muggles. She didn't believe everyone was like that. Out to kill innocent creatures. But she grew and the Black family teachings went to her head. She hated the muggles and muggle-borns for a while. But that was before she made Ted or Edward Tonks. Kind, gentle and funny. There was no way he was this monster and abomination that she was supposed to hate. There was no way she could hate him. And Gimmaould place loved it. Loved the conflict that was creating a storm inside her.

Narcissa was as much different as she was alike them. She was the perfect mixture of both of her sisters. In one word she was perfect. Both to her parents and her sisters. She was the apple of everyone's eye. She believed and practised the Black beliefs but she wasn't unhinged or had the crackling and unladylike laughter that Bellatrix had. She listened while the others talked. Both Andromeda and Bellatrix tried giving her their ideals. She just nodded and listened, making her own judgments that mostly matched with Bellatrix. But she never spoke of them. Always remaining the perfect Black. And Grimmauld place loved it. Loved how scared she was of being imperfect.

Sirius was a lot like Bellatrix as much as he'd hate to hear it. He was bold, had his own opinion, and had a signature barklike laughter. He was a little unhinged as well. Cared very less about what the consequences will be. He grew out his hair at fifteen, the year he left his cold and miserable house. He rebelled since he was a child. Always stood up to his parents, protected his brother from their rage, and made it his job to disappoint them by the age of thirteen. He flinched every time he agreed with something as little as a tie-pin with his family. And Grimmauld place loved it. Loved how scared he was of becoming one of them.

Little Regulus. Always the underdog, unnoticed and neglected by his parents. The one who needed protection all of the time either from his brother or his cousins. And all of them gave him that, even Bellatrix who gave him protection the best way she can think of. She made him join her cause, Voldemort's cause. Regulus was always loved by his brother and cousins and everyone wanted different things from him. And he wanted to please each and every one of them. But he wasn't Narcissa and he couldn't do it. And Grimmauld placed loved it. Loved how confused and hurt he was.

Grimmauld place enjoyed bearing witness to Bellatrix and Sirius losing minds. It enjoyed when Sirius paced through its halls at the age of thirty-five in the middle of the night, trying to break out again. It enjoyed watching Regulus push down all his fears and plan to take Voldemort out, a sure way of dying and a sign of the Black madness. It watched and enjoyed Bellatrix obsessing over the so-called dark lord, trying to get the appreciation that she never got from her parents. It enjoyed Narcissa's worried glances at her sisters. It enjoyed when Andromeda ran away and lost her connection to the family. It enjoyed every sad moment the young and last Blacks had.

Grimmauld place loved each and every one of their misery. It lived for it. It strived for it. It strived for how each and every one of them lived and died for. That's why it still stands, unnoticed by the muggles, standing tall like some aristocrat. After all Grimmauld place feeds on misery. And it saw enough misery to stand a lifetime.