"...THE PUBLIC IS WARNED THAT BLACK IS ARMED AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. A SPECIAL HOT LINE HAS BEEN SET UP, AND ANY SIGHTING OF BLACK SHOULD BE REPORTED IMMEDIATELY," a reporter's voice declared from the antiquated television set, cracking like thunder in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of Lupin Cottage. Gemini, who had been confined to the solitary confines of her small abode, instantly redirected her full attention to the decrepit device, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Surely, she must be hallucinating — the imagination running wild due to her grounding, which had resulted in the confiscation of her beloved possessions. Yet, the pulse that coursed through her veins chilled to ice at the sight before her eyes. Those identical silver orbs, albeit filled with an unsettling madness, gazed back at her with a malevolent intensity. The gaunt contours of a once-familiar face stretched into a wicked smirk, and dark curls appeared matted in chaotic tangles, a crown of mischief on a fallen king's head.
The chilling realization struck her halfway through this unnerving broadcast: her mother — a classified convict — had successfully escaped from the desolate confines of Azkaban. Sirius Black was no longer just a shadow haunting the edges of her thoughts, he had materialized into a living, breathing specter of her past.
A cacophony of emotions clashed within her being, each vying for dominance in a whirlwind of uncertainty and fear. Should she express her aghastment, or would that merely incite her primal instinct for self-preservation? Would he pursue her, making an attempt to reclaim his place in her life? Or could the atmosphere provide a sense of safety, given the criminal may be unaware of their new residence? Most importantly, was it permissible to feel the flicker of excitement that crept up her spine — the tantalizing prospect of possibly encountering her other parent? Contemplating these thoughts tangled her mind further into a confusing labyrinth. Instead of settling for a singular emotional response, the remnants of the bacon she had previously chewed on tumbled out of her mouth in shock. "What the actual fuck?" she muttered, the gravity of the summer of 1993 settling heavily upon her shoulders like a leaden cloak, with this revelation standing out as the metaphorical cherry on top of her shittiest holiday.
The news anchor continued rambling about a barrage of mundane topics, but Gemini's focus scattered like leaves in a cyclone. The details of spells and curses danced off the screen, overshadowed by the searing image of her mother's manic visage etched permanently in her pessimistic thoughts. Her heart raced wildly, pumping at an abnormal cadence, echoing the progression of a ticking doomsday clock. For as long as her memories stretched, the elders of the magical community had drawn comparisons between her personality and that of Sirius Black's — the notorious figure cloaked in infamy. If she mirrored his essence so closely, did they then anticipate her to spiral down a similar path of madness? Would the news of his escape incite wariness among those who knew his lineage? Why was she even mired in these irrational speculations? All she truly yearned for was her father's return home.
A loud crack reverberated throughout the cozy, wood-paneled chalet, and the girl instantly found her senses heightened, alert like a hawk poised for flight. If Muggles were aware of Sirius's grand escape, then surely the magical world had also caught wind of the news. Her mother had stirred a tempest, riling up countless beings; some may even undertake the reckless mission of pursuing his family — much like the times before when his unspeakable actions came to light. Rather than cower in the confines of her pantry, Gemini stood her ground, unwavering. "SHOW YOURSELF; YOU INTRUDER! OR, ARE YOU TERRIFIED OF A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL?! COME ON. COWARD!" The confidence in her voice rang out, yet it was layered with a sigh of courageous bravado. The door creaked open, and within an instant, a gleaming silver knife hurled itself through the air towards the entryway. A wave of her hand and a quick incantation sent the utensil freezing mid-flight, a testament to her magical prowess.
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SABAISM | H. POTTER
FanfictionSABAISM (noun) : The worship of stars. For centuries, people have looked up to the stars and became instantaneously bewitched due to the pinpricks of light. Such an enigma they are, burning bright in the darkest of atmospheres. Never snuffed by the...
