Pensieve - Wolfstar Fanfiction

31

The big grandfather clock hit three AM in the drawing room. Sirius heard it as he laid still on his bed, on top of the covers with all of his clothes on.
It was time for him to sneak into his father's study.
He was scared.

Every little creak sounded noisy, every breath he took was like a scream in his ears. His heartbeat was violent and fast, like a war drum in his chest. It was dark, as he set his bare feet on the ice cold board foor.
The round knob of his room's door made a click as he twisted it, terrified of waking anyone in the house up. Regulus' room was right by his, and the walls were thin like paper. As the door creaked open slowly, the dusty air of the hallway rushed on Sirius' face. Like a breeze that smelled of an old dying lady. He felt like the house was alive, as he stood out of the safety of his bedroom. Like it had it's own mind, evil and hungry, protective of the Blacks that had lived within it for hundreds of years. Like it was angry at Sirius, just like everyone in his family, for breaking the purity of their blood.
And the boy could almost hear it whispering, saying things that he couldn't quite fugure out. Like mumbling curses in it's sleep, the way Remus used to at night. Only it was cute when Remus did it, and terrifying when it came from the walls of his house.
Sirius took a deep breath of the stale and moist air. His head was hurting, throat sore, fingers trembling just a bit as he was scared. He could feel his wand pressing against his wrist from under his shirt, he had tucked it there to hide it if someone would catch him wandering the halls.
Then he began to walk. Slowly, silently, bare toes pressing on the dark green carpet. The hallway was so dark, if the boy hadn't lived in the house for sixteen years he wouldn't have been able to navigate his way to the stairs.
It was all okay, he thought to himself as he stared at the black abyss of the angular staircase. The steps made terrible noise as they creaked, Sirius remembered before even starting to walk them down. And the master bedroom was just below him.
He squeezed his thin fingers around the old wooden railing, slowly reaching down to land his right feet on the highest step. He did it as slowly as he possibly could, so the creak would be as silent as possible. He couldn't breathe.
First step. It wasn't that bad, the house made creaks like that on it's own already. House settling noises, his mother had once said when Sirius was afraid of them as a child.
The next five steps or so, were about the same. Silent enough for him to stay calm. Nobody woke up from the noise.
But then, as he was half way trough and the moonlight that shone from the big third floor hallway window illuminated his way, something startled him.
The angry, cold gray eyes of his great great grandfather Sirius II, the ugly old man he was named after, was staring at him from his portrait.
Sirius had always felt like he had been watched in that house. Never in a good way. James had told him once, that whenever he had had a feeling like that as a child, his mother would have comforted him with saying that it was a guardian angel watching over him.
Sirius never had that. Walburga just laughed at his childishness.

Two floors down. Three left to the basement. Sirius' eyelids felt heavy as he stood there, right in front of the master bedroom's door after calming himself down from the jumpscare he had just encountered.
His heartbeat was jumpy. From next scare like that, he would most certainly scream.

And in the dark, silent, most dangerous floor of his house, he continued that agonisingly long journey to the cellar of his enormous house. Wondering just how many dead bodies the Black family had stored in there during the centuries. Would his body once be in there too?
No.
His body would be in the bottom of the black lake at Hogwarts, because that was what he had decided.