DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
Quidditch Pitch: Phineas Nigellus Black (character)
Drabble Club: It felt like free-falling. (sentence)
If You Dare Challenge: 13. Time goes by.
200 Characters in 200 Days: Phineas Nigellus Black
Greek Mythology Category Competition: Coeus: Write about a member of the Black family.
Percy Jackson Character Challenge: Argus: Write about someone who watches something.
Emotion Challenge: Overwhelmed
He lay in his bed, hands crossed in a limp manner across his chest. His hair was scraggly from days of being untended.
Days of lying in this stupid bed.
He would never admit it, but it was just the tiniest bit of good. Relaxing, even.
He was more than ready for Death's hands to close around his heart.
He was more than ready to get rid of all that pressure.
Pressure from being a Black. To have to live up to the legacy.
Pressure from being Headmaster.
Pressure from simply… living.
He would never admit it, but Phineas Nigellus Black was overwhelmed.
It felt like free-falling.
When death's icy hands had wrapped around his heart, it felt like his heart had suddenly been drained of all blood, leaving it light-weighted.
It felt like every single thing that brought weight onto his shoulders had disappeared.
And it was the best feeling he'd ever felt.
Phineas blinked his eyes, brushing away a strand of black hair away from his face. He looked around, groaning as he stretched his aching limbs.
His gaze jolted to his surroundings, and with a start, he realized he was in the headmaster's office—rather, he was staring down at it.
"What is this?" he said, shaking a fist at the headmaster's desk as if it would do anything to help.
He heard footsteps approach the office, and the door slid open. He was able to see the gargoyles outside part.
"Ah, Phineas," Armando Dippet said, wearing a wide smile. "How are you?"
"Dippet! Where am I?" Phineas asked immediately, brushing off the greetings in a way that did not befit a Black.
"In the headmaster's office, Phineas. Is that not obvious?" Armando said.
"But how?" His voice had risen higher.
"A portrait, of course." Armando frowned. "Did you seriously not know?"
"I just woke up, Dippet!" Phineas snapped, shooting him a scowl. "Do you not recall that I just died?"
"It's been over a month, actually."
"Oh, se taire."
Dippet raised an eyebrow. "I'm the new headmaster, you know."
"And what a great lot of good that'll do for Hogwarts."
"Do you mean to say that I won't be a good headmaster?"
Phineas glared at him. Really, Dippet had no tact. Boasting about becoming new headmaster—and right after Phineas had died, no less. Utterly vulgar!
He looked away, thinking about how life would be in a portrait.
Oh, no.
The pressure was back.
Why couldn't people just let him die properly?
Stupid portrait.
He watched as Hogwarts took on a new and worthy headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.
(Though, in Phineas's opinion, while the man was a genius, the amount of middle names he had was simply ridiculous.)
He hoped Albus would be able to protect Hogwarts.
After all, it had to remain Toujours Pur.
As a Black, he had made sure of that.
Merlin, that pressure was really getting to be annoying.
He watched as Harry Potter nearly destroyed the office in his anger.
And he found out that his grandson had died at the hand of his granddaughter.
The Blacks were dying at their own hands.
He didn't know how his family had dissolved into a such a mess.
The pressure was increasing.
He would never admit it, but Phineas Nigellus Black was overwhelmed.
AN: "se taire" means "shut up" in French.