Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

5 July, 1995 - Peace

Lavinia didn't like this house. For multiple reasons. And the dislike started within seconds when she walked in the front door and found herself standing in the frankly dank and rather dim entrance hall. But the poor lighting and gloomy atmosphere weren't what bothered her. She could stand in the dark and be fine. She could stand in dusty rooms and not thing twice. But this... this was standing in the middle of so many memories. And those memories... well. They were bittersweet at best. And at worst... Lavinia swallowed and forced herself back to the present with a concerted effort and made her eyes see the differences. Not the similarities.

The halls were poorly lit in this time where they had been bathed in light from the stately old oil lamps the other times she'd been in this house. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere now and the place frankly looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Which, Lavinia realized, it probably hadn't been. But the gas lamps were just as she remembered them when Sirius flicked his wand to turn them on. The wallpaper, though now peeling, was the same stuff it had been years ago when she had visited Regulus in this house. When she had used it as an escape, of all things. From her grandmother. From years and years and years ago.

As if she hadn't already come to this conclusion, standing there, remembering the way life had been the last time she'd set foot in this place... she couldn't blame Sirius for being freaked out by this house. And that was before Walburga started screaming.

And scream she did.

Lavinia had kicked the door closed behind her, unable to turn away from the sight of the house before her. This, however, was a mistake because it meant that the door closed with a bit of a bang and apparently, that was all it took to set the woman off.

Her screams were near deafening and reminded Lavinia so forcefully of her own mother's shouts that she wanted nothing more than to run right back out the door and leave for good. She wanted to never come back to this place, never hear that voice again, never listen to those insults that were burned into her brain no matter how many years it had been.

And she might have. She might have run or at least hidden in some dusty, cobwebbed corner were it not for the fact that Sirius jumped violently next to her, his hands going up as though to cover his face as if by instinct and suddenly Lavinia didn't give a shit what her own heart was screaming at her to do. Because that voice didn't belong to her mother. It belonged to Sirius's. Those insults weren't meant for her, similar though they were to the many had been leveled against her years ago. They were aimed at him. And they were hitting their mark.

So she rounded the corner at the end of the hall and came face to face with a terrifyingly lifelike image of Walburga Black, shrieking and waving her hands like she really did want to jump out of that frame and beat them both senseless for daring to set foot in her house. Lavinia blinked away the image of phantom fists in front of her eyes, reminding herself again and again that this was just a painting. And the painting couldn't touch her. Couldn't touch either of them.

On either side of the painting were curtains, long and a bit threadbare and Lavinia had no idea what their intended purpose was, nor did she particularly care. She simply pulled out her wand and shot a silencing spell at the portrait. Which did nothing at all. Indeed, Walburga merely cackled at her and momentarily switched the target of her insults.

"I tried that," Sirius shouted over Walburga's scream and Lavinia jumped slightly, not having realized that he had followed her here. As though reinvigorated by the sound of her son's voice, the woman started screaming even more loudly and vehemently and Sirius flinched again. Lavinia reached a hand out by instinct, finding his arm and gripping it tight as she tried to think over the racket Walburga was making. This was no easy feat as it turned out and Lavinia gave up rather quickly, instead merely pointing her wand at the curtains framing the portrait and causing them to snap closed over Walburga's face. Which did nothing except muffle the screaming.