The Life and Lies of Cassiopeia Rosier- Regulus Black

.truth is pain.

.when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.

When my feet touched solid ground again, my head spun and I felt nauseated.

My mother gracefully walked over to me, sliding a cold finger under my chin, another crack sounded as my father appeared with Evan in tow.

"Dinner will be at 7 o'clock sharp. Do not be late, as we have much to discuss." She crooned, her voice sounding like warm honey. There was an unmistakable gleam in her eye that made my blood freeze in my veins. She and my father sauntered away down the shadowy entrance hall and entered into my father's study, a room which was, and always had been, strictly off-limits for both my brother and myself.

I glanced at my surroundings, the familiar feeling of dread leaked through my bones before finally settling in my stomach, a cold pit that I knew would remain with me for the duration of the holiday. Rosier Manor was a cruel and tantalizing type of beautiful. It's high ceilings and archways of the darkest stone created a feeling of solemn loneliness. The entrance hall was large, and dimly lit, allowing the shadows to prevail and lurk as if waiting for their next victim. Two grand staircases were the spectacle of the hall, sweeping gracefully to the upper floors of the manor.

I remembered a time as a child that I had slid down the banister. My father had used Veritaserum to force a confession out of me. Subconsciously I touched a spot on my collarbone that stung with the phantom pain of the memory. That had been the first time my father had struck me. I couldn't have been more than four years old. Needless to say, it wasn't the last time either. I hated this place because to me, it held memories of pain that I could feel as I walked through the halls and remembered the moments of my childhood. Every strike, every moment spent locked away in my bedroom, it was all associated with Rosier Manor.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my trunk was yanked from my hand. Surprised, I turned to see Evan levitating it and heading towards the stairs to our chambers.

"What are you doing?" I asked, suspicion evident in my voice. This was more interaction than I'd had with my brother all term.

"I'm helping you with your trunk. Come along." He replied, his bright blue eyes less weary than I remembered.

Too shocked to say much else, I surrendered and followed him up the flights of stairs, and down the long unending corridors to where our bed chambers were located. We had grown up across the hall from each other. As upsetting as my childhood had been, I remembered times after having been punished severely, when I would sneak into Evan's room and he would drape blankets from his bed to his dresser, creating a type of hideout. He would pile in pillows and hold me while I cried, and when I had calmed down he would read to me until I would fall asleep in his room.

I tore my gaze away from the entryway of his chamber and followed him into my own. I was grateful that he was of age, and could use magic outside of school. Dragging my heavy trunk up the dizzying amount of stairs would have been remarkably terrible. I crossed the spacious sitting room and entered the sleeping chamber. My trunk was already sitting on my bed. I unlatched the clasps and started to pull out my belongings, to stow them away in my drawers, but when I turned, I was shocked to see Evan hadn't left.

"I came to visit you in the hospital, you know." He claimed, not quite able to meet my gaze. Of all the things I had been expecting him to say, that was not on the list. He sounded so vulnerable, and it broke my heart to see my rock of a brother molded into the person he was today. He looked so much like our father, tall and proud, with eyes as blue and as striking as the sea. He was all shadows, his dark hair, and pale complexion contrasting perfectly in the glow of the fire that lit my room.