In A Blink (Marauders Era)

Chapter Seven

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November Twentieth, 1976

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No matter how many years passed or how much trauma forced its way into Lark's mind, the Beatles were always therapeutic. Sometimes while she listened to the tapes, she would make lists in her mind of everything that she wanted to erase... and then everything that she didn't, though all of her mental lists eventually crumbled away; it was often quite easy to forget which item belonged on which list. Trying once more, she would write them all down, which consisted of nothing but scratching out certain items and re-writing them, then scribbling them away again. Finally deciding that lists were pointless, Lark set her head back, closed her eyes, and lost herself in the thrumming melodies.

There were some days when it was better. Some days, she could talk to Remus and he wouldn't look at her like a ghost. Sometimes, her stomach didn't ache due to Madame Pomfrey's potions. Rarely, Sirius wouldn't act like a standoffish git.

Most days, she felt like a shell.

Lark Riddle was only a shell of somebody larger than life, who had grown too large for her home. I'm hollow, she often thought to herself, I'm empty, and I can feel all of the music echoing around this airy space inside my body. Maybe it was just a phase. Possibly this was how every teenager felt: cold. Oh so cold.

Lark had never been a self-loathing person; with everything happening around her, disrespecting herself was the last thing that she could afford. What she felt in that moment wasn't angst or depression. She felt wrong, like an ice cube in a boiling, frothing tub of water. On the surface, she melted away quickly, waning and surrendering as the world eroded her. In her thoughts, she seethed and sizzled with rebellion and magnetic repulsion. Inside, there was nothing. Unlike Lily, there was no fiery passion for good burning in her soul. Instead of Sirius's charismatic charm swirling around inside him and reaching out on the outside, she had a black hole boiling in her belly.

And it hurt.

"Lark?"

Somebody was shaking her shoulders.

"Yeah?" she groaned, blinking groggily as she lifted her head off of the pillow.

"You were sleeping," a sandy-haired boy with a long nose knelt down next to her and smiled.

"So?"

"It's only six O'clock," Remus chuckled softly. "I thought that you still had homework, and you have to come to dinner."

She sighed, brushing tangled chocolate curls out of her eyes and resting her chin on her palms.

"Remus, teachers feel too bad for me to give me homework," she reasoned with him only half-sarcastically. "And I don't want to eat."

"They do not."

She rolled her eyes. "Professor Mcgonagall actual told me- in front of the entire class - that I should just get some sleep instead of writing half a meter of discussion on the evolution of human transfiguration."

He looked at her pointedly. "She was probably just joking, and it's not like that's your fault."

"Yeah, but-"

"Just eat, at least. Please."

Lark hesitated, biting her lip and looking at him with as little pity as she could. "Remus, you don't understand."

He laughed. "Are you in love, too?"

She joined him, knowing that he was referring to Lily, who had broken down several times over James's temporary unconsciousness.