Disclaimer: I own nothing, JK does.
Memory of My Father
My father is screaming.
It's a wonderful sound – not low or dangerous as before, not cruel or terrifying as I remember. It's higher, much higher, a cry of mingled suffering and fear.
Screaming, of course, is not the same as shouting.
Tobias can shout. He can rage. I will never forget his fists, or the cruel things he's said to me. I will never forget my mother's screams. But it's his turn now. He's shaking. He's screaming. I feel a smile curl my lips. I want to laugh. I want to sing.
Mother is shouting at me, begging me to set him free. I can't. I won't. I won't let him hurt her anymore – nor me. And he won't, never will again. Blood pours from his mouth and nose. He jerks and writhes on the floor. I feel his body breaking and his straining lungs collapse.
The screaming stops abruptly - replaced by a sick, choking sound. It's the sound of a man drowning – of a man – dying. I lower my wand. I look him in the eye for the very last time. I see terror, a silent plea. And in my eyes he sees reflected what I have always seen in his. No love. No pity. No mercy.
Not from me.
~fin~