crzcxc - Tumblr blog

[crzcxc]

to live as a daughter is to live as a labour to love, to miss the last few words of a funny story just so that you can remember not to smile with your teeth, to never see the candid side of things out of fear that once somebody sees behind the ingratiating facade of pleasant silence and hair straightened so stiff that it doesn’t even really feel like hair anymore, you are not worthy of love?

to live as a daughter is to live in the third person, to learn to dance before you can learn to walk, to know that classic novels aren’t so classic because you too have no more than your ability to marry well.

so you spend your life in a mirror maze, realising that no matter where you go your reflection stays the same, yet you somehow hate the sight a little more with each turn.

so you plaster on makeup- a defence, a shield, to show that even though your tongue bleeds scarlet tears from wounds inflicted by the jagged edge of your teeth, you are still acceptable on the outside.

you spend your life living through your younger self, wishing you had done more when you were allowed to fight back. you wish to be unaware of your own existence.

you almost find yourself wishing that somebody may steal the scattered remains of your innocence as it is easier to be loved as a vacant woman than a broken one.

you wish that your ability to be loved was not synonymous with your worth.

[crzcxc]

“But what if I don’t want this?!” Regulus yelled back instinctively at his mother, who was harshly whispering to him about his brand new mark seared into his left arm.

“What if Sirius had it right all along? Maybe, despite his everlasting support from the ‘Noble House of Black’, the Dark Lord is wrong.” he spat. his mother pursed her lips at him and narrowed her eyes venomously. This was the first time that Regulus had ever stood up to his family and all that he was feeling was gratitude that his father wasn’t around to see it.

“Oh, really? You think you’re the first to realise that? You think you’re so creative and wise, Regulus?” she hissed. “Tell me, do you truly believe that Sirius won’t die fighting this cause?” This lingering question made him pause and begin stroking his left arm softly, trying to numb himself from the sharp pain that blossomed in his chest.

“Listen to yourself.. the Dark Lord is killing people. That mark doesn’t brand you with evil, it counts you as protected. You do not have to be evil to be safe. Be wise these next few years, Regulus. Keep your own values straight, but be quiet about it.” her voice quietened with defeat, her face softening.

And in that moment, Regulus Black had made up his mind. He was going to do it. Sure, the ‘Gryffindor way’ of being all Superman about everything was great.. But he was going to do something far greater. He was going to keep his own morals within himself, he was going to prove everybody wrong, he was going to make everything right with his brother. He was going to do the impossible- taking down the Dark Lord from the inside.

“You’re right, mother. Thank you for enlightening me.” he said finally. He then turned and walked away with only an over-the-shoulder glance back at her.

[crzcxc]

‘Why do you hate this house so much, Sirius?’ Harry asked through the doorway of the older man’s childhood bedroom, breaking the silence that was previously encasing them. When Sirius’ eyes faltered and flickered gently to the ground, he continued. ‘I don’t mean to offend, I’m just curious..’

Sirius waved a hand at this dismissively, as if to say that that was nonsense and that Harry needn’t worry. He was still yet to answer the younger boy’s question. How could he? How could he tell his godson, who had braved unimaginable horrors in only 15 short years of life, that the reason he hated this house was because it.. made him sad?

Sirius was not scared of the dingy aura of childhood trauma that lurked in the air of 12 Grimmauld Place- he prided himself greatly on his place in Gryffindor, thank you very much. But, God, being here was like living in a house where the walls have been turned into horcruxes.

He hated not the memories of being tortured by his own parents in this house, but the look on his little brother’s face as it had happened, something which was still etched into his brain. He hated not the fact that his name had been charred off of the family tree, but the fact that his name had also been removed from the height chart that Walburga had made in his and Regulus’ earliest years. He did not hate the fact that all of his childhood posters had been ripped off of the walls by his parents after he had left, he hated the fact that he had found them, scratched and frayed on the edges, decorating the walls of Regulus’ bedroom instead. The boy had stolen them after Sirius had left..? And he had never known. A few tears slipped down Sirius’ aged face that day.

He hated this house because it was the last place his brother had been before he had died. He hated this place because it was the prison that he left his little brother in to die. He hated this place because it never gave him a chance to know his brother and never gave his brother a chance to escape.

After a minute of silence, Sirius cleared his throat and wiped his face before turning to look at Ja- Harry. ‘Oh, y’know.. It was just quiet growing up here, that’s all.’