[daggers - part one]
[3rd] regulus
He opened the box of memories he had acquired over the many years, kept safe from the prying eyes of his mother. Downstairs he heard the screaming and shouting and the swish of the iron chain that sunk into skin, hurting and irritating it. Sirius was arguing with his mother again.
Even at the tender age of eight, Sirius was rebellious. He often jeered at his mother and made fun of the family beliefs, leading to Walburga's temper gradually worsening, often beating and scolding the two brothers for no reason. Deep down, Regulus agreed with his brother, but he was too scared, too frightened to speak out, preferring to avoid any trouble that might cause him another beating.
Regulus had never had a proper childhood, what with everything that happened in the house. He spent his days either forced to listen to his brother's agony or being tortured himself, or locked in his room, curled into a ball on his bed. He didn't know how to deal with relationships with other people in general.
"Regulus! Come on down!"the doorknob turned, and startled, he tried to put away the box, But it was too late and his mother had already seen the box.
She picked it up, and the seven year old curled up on the floor in fright as his mother pried the box open. She immediately dropped it.
"Regulus, this- this- how could you- that disgusting- touching that filth- "
she cried out in disgust. Regulus screamed in fear as the dreaded cold feel of the iron slammed onto his skin again and again.
He barely felt anything, he was numb, and yet his nerves were on fire, he yelled again and again and he couldn't see anything, excruciating pain clouding his eyes- and it went black.
He felt himself wrapped into a gentle hug as he finished recounting his childhood. He waited for the dreaded symapathetic gaze, the words "I'm sorry", or the look like he was a kicked puppy or something. But it never came.
He always tended to forget that the reason he told her about these things were that she had gone through something similar. However it was always a wonderful surprise to him when she knew exactly what to do, when she did exactly what he would do in the same situation.
She just stayed close to him and hugged him tight, then sat beside him until he felt well enough and stopped crying. Her company alone was enough to reassure him.
How did she always make him feel safe?
She spotted him looking at her, and smiled faintly at him, and hugged him tighter, and in that moment there was nothing more reassuring than her touch.
She was there for him no matter what.
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YOU ARE READING
Daggers | r.a.b
Fanfiction'Is a knife evil? only if the welder is evil.' -unknown . . . . . . THEY NEVER REALIZED JUST H O W M U C H HARM THE D A G G E R O F L O V E WOULD B R I N G. . . . . . SHE LOVED HIM ...
