Underneath me the stairs creaked. I shifted moving my balance to my left foot as I leaned into the wall. Another step down, the floor creaked again and I leaned further onto the wall. My torso pressed into it as I settled onto my right foot. The woolen fabric of the carpet kept my barren feet warm, even through the humid heat that settled in the house. I tensed the muscles within my legs, holding the left foot just above the step below. I waited for the lightening to flash and then as the thunder echoed, I scurried down the remaining stairs. None of the groaning from the stairs was too recognizable through the loud clashes from outside.
The cool tile of the kitchen floor felt slippery underneath my feet; the slime residue of my mum's muggle tile wash, sticking to the dry, ringed, skin on my feet. I padded around, getting used to the cold and adjusting the shirt I had on. It had ridden up whilst I had pressed myself to the wall. A shiver ran up my spine as I took another step; the current settled after a couple of seconds as I reached the cabinets. I gathered up a glass and the pitcher of water, before leaping up onto the top of the wooden counter island. The small un-sanded pieces pricked the bottom of my bum causing me to wiggle and scratch at the softly irritated skin. I turned to the left, staring out the translucent doors. Watching the rain, I continued to shift as one leg grew too itchy to ignore, and gulped down the water. The rain splattered and created a tapping rhythm, trying to dance away the sweat that lay splattered across my skin. I stared out, facing the darkness of outside.
Even now, that cold shudder passed over me; not from the cold humidity but from what settled in my mind. The hand raised in my direction, pulling me and yanking me from the safe confines of the closet. Her nails bit into the skin of my skull, pulling lose some of my hairs. I could feel the plucking of my blonde hairs as the skin raised and then fell as the hairs loosened from their pores within her tight grasp. My feet had scrambled to keep with her brisk pace along the wooden floors, kicking and knocking into the walls. I remember the way her fingers were painted a light lilac purple, but her nails were never properly cut. They always had bits and pieces that hung from the sides and could pinch into skin easily. They were long, bony fingers too; I could feel each and every joint as the hand tugged, either on my arm or my hair.
The thunder clashed, like falling pots and pans, bringing me back from the dark sight ahead of me. The nightmare was over once I had woken up, but the physical feeling I had settled upon my shoulders. I could just remember the way my legs would be lathered with bruises of yellow and purple for days, and the way my ribs felt from the searing dents in them. I glanced away from the glass-paneled windows and hopped down from the counter. My feet had fallen asleep, and I gripped the counter until I started to feel pins and needles. They sparkled as I began to walk, or stumble as I had to find the most comfortable way to reach the fridge. I stuck the water back in the fridge after I poured my fourth and final glass. The cold sweat, parched lips and massive head-ache had soothed. My tongue lulled and rolled through my mouth as I lapped at the water. I walked slowly, taking minutes with each step as I moved back towards the counter whilst drinking down the water.
As the lightening blazed through the sky again, I heard wood belching. I spun around, thinking it was one of James' nightly check-ups but found him missing. The doorway where he usually stood was vacant and I could see clearly into the dark hallway. I placed my cup down, feeling my hands growing numb as I moved away from the counter. Slowly, I peered around the hallway, hiding the majority of my body behind the massive doors to the kitchen. The thick wood felt comfortable underneath my feeling less fingers and allowed my heart to relax its contractions. I waited for another sound, but I was only greeted with the shadowy sketch of the door. I turned back to the counter, but then turned back. My glass of water lay forgotten on the counter as the door rattled within its frame again.
I flicked the hallway lights on and approached the doors. Slowly the engravings on the door started to become clearer the closer I got. The door banged again and then froze. I froze. I could feel the stuffy, thickness of my hands as they clench and unclenched. My feet stopped, and I could feel my weight slipping to the floor. I grasped the wall, finding the minimal balance for my quivering legs. The door didn't move, so I waited for just a moment. I took several deep breathes, hoping to ease away the pulsations in my ears. I curled my fingers again, finally having an easier time doing that, and then took another tentative step towards the door. Finally I reached the end of the long passageway. Leaning towards the door I placed my hands to the engraved plank of wood. The Potter family crest printed into my hand as I leaned up and looked through the small glass panel at the top of the door. Peering through the door, I could see nothing but black and glistening raindrops on the window pane. I paused; nothing?
Feeling the curiosity bubbling up my blood tingled for satisfaction. Nothing could not have made that sound or have rattled the door. I closed my eyes, my hands traveling to the cool metal of the door-knob. As my hand latched on, my own bony fingers curling, I struggled to breathe again. Forcing several deep breathes I yanked the door open, the wind helping to push both the door and the body into the hallway.
I lay under the wet, warm body for minutes. The cantors of their stomach squished into mine and I could feel a pulsating magic seeping into my shaking body. My shirt slowly soaked through, and I could hear the splatter of rain against the wood floors of the house. Everything down my legs now stuck to the skin, from the person lying on top of me and from the water that washed into the house from outside. I struggled to lift my arm, squirming them and wriggling them through the excess weight. The feeling had finally returned, and my fingers could latch onto the carpet laid out by my sides. I pulled out from underneath the weight as I grinded into the carpeted floor and crawled backwards. The pain in my ribs lessened and I could feel air rushing deeply into my lungs. As soon as my face reached above the person's body, I could feel the slashing of the wind against my cheeks and the soft pats of rain drops. The wind whipped around us and I could vaguely see something rectangular had landed in the doorway along with a pair of clad feet, attached to legs, attached to a torso. Peering down I was greeted by melted, black curls.
"Sirius?" I questioned. I glanced between the trunk and the body. I received no response. Suddenly feeling hollow, I surged forward and pushed him over.
His entire chest was covered with blood. Dark magic pulsated from the wounds and a vague tint of purple shadowed the skin. Scars, new and old, riddled the scantily covered skin. The shirt around him had flooded with blood, and was hanging loosely from his torso as it was half-way open. Sirius' face parted, his lips turning blue and his eyes screwed shut. Even in his unconscious state, Sirius was feeling the effects of the curse. The usually, slightly tan complexion had fled - leaving an unconscious, pale boy in its wake. The blood spurted up and I stared shocked down at the flowing stream of red. Suddenly noise filtered back into my senses, and so had my responses.
"Mom!" I hollered, fighting with the roar of the wind and the banging of the door, which was slamming into the wall behind it. "Mum!"
As I heard no feet splattered from the floor upstairs, I reached behind me and grabbed at the door. The wood brought me back to life as I whirled around and found strength beneath my feet. I busily looked back at Sirius as I attempted to close the door, but every time I did I found resistance. I whipped back around to the stubborn door and quickly spotted what was impeding my success. I pulled Sirius' trunk, letting it fall back to the floor as the door slammed shut. I reached back down to Sirius soon afterwards and looked around. What do I do? My mind fluttered and I kept glancing from Sirius' face to his chest, which was still pouring blood.
"Mum!" I called again as silence befell the house. I could feel bile and grit rising through my voice. "Dad! James!" I could feel my voice lifting as I kept shouting. The panic filtered through as I numbly stared down at my brother's friend. His breathing was getting shallower, and the blood wouldn't stop moving. His face was quickly draining of what little color it had left and nobody in the house was waking up. "Mum!"
Some shifting from upstairs and tentative steps caused the floor to groan again. I looked towards the top of the stairs in hopes that finally there would be someone there. But I couldn't make out any shape of my mum, dad or James. The doors had probably peered open, curious if their ears had imagined another sound other than the smooth creaking of the house; but much like me, they were probably waiting by the frame to see if another shout would come. I shifted back to Sirius, finally remembering what mom had told me. Ignoring the anger that swelled upon my skin and the piercing swords that stabbed into my hands, I placed pressure on the deepest gash on his abdomen.
"Mum!" I yelled and finally the steps groaned with my mom's heavy steps. I looked up, most of my weight still holding down Sirius and his wound. Her form slowly got more and more distinct until she reached the bottom of the stairwell. Her usual brown, turning gray hair, fell upon her shoulders in a frazzled manner and she combed through it to gain some sort of recognition to reality.
"What is going on? Why are you down here?" She questioned, pulling her robe close to her curved body. Her blurred gaze fell short as she glanced at the body of Sirius Black. "What's happened?"
Her scream broke the stale, questioning and worried air. She was quick to move though, despite her unnaturally sharp scream. My dad's feet followed and then the sluggish steps of James echoed down the aged steps. My mom knelt before me, sitting on the opposite of Sirius' body, and began taking in the extent of his injuries.
"Pad!" James' twisted words fell upon the ground.
I could only continue to keep pressure on the spurting wound. I looked up briefly as I felt dad yanking me backwards. His long torso covered up my view of Sirius and I watched as he placed his hands over the wound. Mom's wand less magic had her summoning her wand to her hand in split seconds. I could only continue to stare as dad nearly crushed Sirius' ribs with the force he was using. I hardly recognized as James' arm wrapped around me and started to tug me into a suddenly lit living room. James scurried around, working on the couch and preparing the necessary utilities that Sirius would need. White linens soon covered the mud colored couch, and the table was pushed further away, just leaving space enough to walk through. I hadn't even realized James had sat me down in the corner of the entrance, where I would be out of the way but where he could still see me.
My hands now rested on my lap. The blood felt gooey and slick beneath and in between my fingers. I wriggled them, feeling them slide about and then clenched my hands into fists. The blood waved up and created little mountains around where my fingers began to indent my skin. My white nails now lay lathered with Sirius' blood, and just below I could feel the burnings from the curse that I had recklessly placed my hands upon. I uncurled my fingers and stared down at the deep, dark red upon my palms; skin charred black from the curse and coated with blood from the wound. I probably looked like a mess, but as I looked around my clothes, the only blood stain I could find was the one by my stomach, where Sirius had landed.
I brought my head up to reach James' eyes, who had settled upon me as he finished his task. His brown eyes raked over me, scanning for injury and stopping at the blood that lay piled on my hands and my shirt. His tight smile lay limp upon his face and I couldn't help but grimace back.