Memento Mori - Sirius Black

Chapter 31

December 20th, 1975.

The pain was endless. It'd been going on for hours, days, years. Seconds probably. The tears streaming down his cheeks fell on the wood floor. He saw blood dripping there too. Was that his nose? His mouth?

Every nerve of his body felt like it was on fire, being electrified, pulled apart. He was trashing against the floor, hitting himself over and over. His throat was raw from his screams, now only silent cries were all he could hear. If he was able to focus enough to even notice, that is.

He wanted it to be over. He would do anything. Anything.

He must have said as much. Because the pain abruptly stopped. He had his face pressed against the floor, but he lifted his head enough to see the black polished shoes that walked towards him.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Silence.

Sirius might have laughed. He didn't mean to. It just came out in a breathy sound.

"Well, you always were a slow learner." Said the man, owner of those ridiculously loud shoes.

It started again.

Sirius woke up because of the sharp pain that shot through his head. He was lying on the cold floor, the wooden tiles all he could see. He was there again. It was real.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't stop panicking. He'd woken up before the torturous curse took over. Had he only blacked out because of the pain and was still there? Had everything been a dream? The dinner. Her. Had any of that been real?

He was knocked out of his frightened state by the sound of a door opening, the hinges making a sharp squeak. He forced himself to take in his surroundings. The massive bed beside him and the darkest of blues of the covers that hung from it. The walls around him, painted in the same color.

He got to a sitting position and looked around the room he hadn't been able to inspect last night because of his exhaustion. The white furniture, a bright contrast to the blue walls, was elegant. Silver details showered the room and the soft light that emerged from the high windows—from where the curtains hadn't been properly closed—cast the place alive.

The room wasn't modern, no. It looked straight out of a history book. It was enormous, and he could see three doors. One that led to a bathroom he had used last night, another to a walk-in closet that could be used as a room for five easily. And the last one was the one that had been opened just seconds ago.

"Why are you on the floor, young man?" A feather-like voice asked him. "Was the bed uncomfortable?"

Sirius got to his feet, wincing in the process at the pain that pierced his full body. And his head. He'd fallen from the bed because of that nightmare. Or, rather, very vivid memory. He was grateful he woke up before having to relive the whole odyssey again.

Sirius was trembling like an idiot when he heard that voice again asking him if he was alright. He mastered himself enough to look at the doors that led to the hallway only to find a female elf standing there. She was wearing a black uniform and the only pop of color on her was a badly knitted green scarf.

"I'm fine," Sirius mumbled as he sat on the bed with his forearms over his knees and his head hanging low.

He was so fucked. What the fuck was he doing sleeping in the Gaunt Manor. He never would've imagined that's how the night would end when that goddamn dinner started. He had thought about not showing up at all but knew the consequences would be no joke if he did that. Right after his father decided was done with him, he'd pointed his wand at Sirius' face and erased every visible mark of what had happened in that room but left the rest of the damage untouched. After all, a reminder was good for him. He started shaking with anger as he remembered his cold face when he uttered those words.