Summary: His voice was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Just hearing it could send chill bumps rising on your arms. She was the only one he had ever known could stand up to it. But tonight something was different. Something was wrong. For a Contest. One of Gilderoy's childhood memories...
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Also, this is a contest entry for a contest on http://wizardportus. The contest is to write a child-hood memory of Gilderoy Lockhart. Hopefully, this will work. . Enjoy.
Memories Forgotten
It was cold and dark. Unbelievably dark. Hardly any light could be seen seeping in through the cracks underneath the door. The blackness closed in around him, pounding on him from every angle. The cold crept up his skin and slithered into his bones. His teeth began to chatter, and he clenched his jaw harder, trying to force them to stop. But when his teeth weren't shaking, his feet and hands were.
The space was small and cramped, but the darkness made it feel larger. Walls vanished in its depths. The blackness seemed to take you into a different place. A place where heartbeats turned into explosions. Where magic faded away into nothingness. Where answers became questions. Where the most treasured memories faded far, far away...wasting into the darkness.
The yells pulled him back into reality. They reverberated off the walls, echoing back into his ears. Oh, how he could hear her scream. Her voice was different- full of anger, pride, and stubbornness. But if you listened hard enough, as he often did on these nights, you could also hear her fear. Her fear of him.
His voice was unlike anything he had ever heard before. Just hearing it could send chill bumps rising on your arms. It cornered you, backed you into a place you could no longer escape out of. It sent waves of fear crashing into your body. Only the strongest could hold up against it. She was the only one he had ever known could.
But tonight something was different. Something seemed different. Her voice wasn't as sturdy tonight. It wasn't as strong. And his voice was louder, fiercer, more fearful then ever before.
He heard a loud crash, something resembling pans falling to the floor. Gilderoy cowered, curling himself into a tiny ball. His arms wrapped around his knees, and he buried his head into them. A single tear slithered down his rosy cheek and shattered onto the floor.
He hated himself for crying. He was a boy. Boys didn't cry! But yet almost every week, now every night, he found himself curling into a ball in the closet and crying until he could no longer breathe. Why was this? Why couldn't he control himself like all the other boys seemed to do?
Did that make him weak? Another tear slid down his cheek. Did he have no courage? No will power? Could he not gather enough strength to hold back one blasted tear?
His father's voice crashed against the walls again, exploding into the black air.
It was always like this now. Always. His mother and his father would argue uncontrollably. About what, Gilderoy wasn't exactly sure. But he could tell that there was something wrong between them. Something really, really wrong.
His mother could no longer look him in the eye. She would fix his breakfast as always, but she would always keep her head tilted down, away from the view of Gilderoy's questioning eyes. Her hands seemed to be growing older, for blueish veins now spread throughout them. Dark bags gathered underneath her tired eyes, begging for sleep, for peace. But no. His father couldn't even give her that.
His father was a big man. Over 6' tall, he towered over both Gilderoy and his small, shriveled mother. His hair was a mutual orange, his face tan. Two rows of perfect, sparkling teeth lined the rims of his mouth.
Those teeth were the thing that Gilderoy hated most about his father.
Those teeth were the same teeth that bordered Gilderoy's mouth.
Another crash.
He shuttered again, this time gripping his knees even tighter.
Had it always been like this? Gilderoy thought back to his past, though he hardly remembered anything at all. Had his mother always been yelled at? Pushed around? Had his father always been so selfish, so demanding, so intimidating?
Gilderoy didn't think so. It couldn't have always been like this! If it had, his mother surely would have never married his father in the first place.
So what messed it up?
A sinking sensation flipped in Gilderoy's stomach.
What if it was his fault? What if his parents only started arguing when he was born?
Tears now poured freely down Gilderoy's face, splashing into the blackness.
Every night he would cradle in his closet. Every night he would cry. Every night he would think about the same things over and over...
He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would be like for the rest of his life. What if he was still a teenager, sitting in the closet, crying? What would happen then?
He didn't like to think about it. He liked to think that he was a strong man, which stood up to his father. He liked to think that he was always there for his mother. He liked to think that he was the kind of guy who would never be caught showing emotions. He liked to think he wasn't a 9-year old boy crying in his closet.
But that just wasn't the case.
Crash.
Scream.
Boom.
Silence.
Silence?
Gilderoy lifted his head up slowly from his knees, turning towards the direction he knew the door was.
Silence seeped in through the cracks, seeming to freeze everything in place. He sniffed, trying to unclog his stuffed nose. He wiped his cheeks with the back of his sleeve, and opened his ears.
Nothing.
No sound.
No yells.
No crashes.
Just silence.
The silence was almost as petrifying as the yells. The yells were the only thing that kept him from not slipping into the world of darkness. But without the yells...there was silence. And silence could do nothing to help Gilderoy escape the blackness.
He crawled towards the door. Noticing the tiny glimmer of gold, he turned the knob slowly.
A creak struck into the silent, black air. It seemed to amplified a thousand times by a spell. Gilderoy crawled out slowly, silently making his way up to his knees and into standing position.
His bedroom door was closed, and the curtains blocked all moonlight from coming into the room.
He felt his way slowly around the objects in his room, trying not to knock something over and send it crashing into the never ending floor. Fortunately, he knew the way around his room quite well in the darkness.
He reached his bedroom door and turned the knob slowly. Another creak surfaced, this time piercing even more into the silence. Gilderoy poked his head out the door and looked left and right down the long hallway.
Nothing.
No one.
Just darkness.
Just silence.
It was unnerving really, and Gilderoy's heat pumped furiously in his chest. His brilliant eyes were wide in the darkness, full of anxiety. Should he go out into the hall and see where everyone was?
He could feel the coldness of the stone floor creep up his feet. His hands shook, and his teeth began to chatter slightly once again, but not enough to make a sound. Curiosity overwhelmed him, and he found himself walking, no creeping, down the hall as silently as possible.
His feet tapped on the marble floor, and each step felt like it was made by a giant. Suddenly, Gilderoy wished he had just stayed in his small, dark closet. At least there he knew he was safe. There he knew what was to come...
But out here, he felt vulnerable. He had never felt so scared in his life. Mentally, he cursed himself again.
He had no courage! What was wrong with him?
Gilderoy stopped walking momentarily. He panted slightly, his hands shaking.
Why couldn't he just bring himself to finish walking down the hall? Why couldn't he just finally stand up to his emotions?
He closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure.
You can do this.
You can.
Just take a step.
And go.
He continued to walk again, letting out a deep breath. It was okay. Everything was going to be alright.
He was approaching the kitchen. Still, there was no light to be seen. Only darkness. Pitch black darkness.
His heart pumped. His hands shook. And even in the cold, he felt tiny bits of perspiration beginning to start underneath his arms. He clenched his fist and teeth, determined to bring himself to go into the kitchen.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
His heart was racing...
Thump.
Thump.
He was about to step into the kitchen. One...
Two...
Three...
He took an intake of breath and one final step on the stone marble floor.
His eyes were closed, his breath stopped. And then slowly, as if time had stood still, he opened them once again.
Her body lay there, curled on the floor. Moonlight shone through the large, glass window on the wall, and her black figure reflected in front of it. Her hair was scattered across the floor. Her eyes were empty...cold...and so, so dark.
"Gilderoy..."
He stopped cold in his tracks. Frozen, he couldn't bring himself to turn around. A knot formed in his throat, and his hands shook like never before. He couldn't breathe...he couldn't think...
All he could hear was that low, dark, intimidating voice. The one that sent chill bumps rising up his arms...
Slowly, he turned around. His whole body was telling him not to. Everything was telling him not to. And yet he did. It felt unreal...almost impossible to imagine...
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Gilderoy turned around, and there he stood. His subtle orange hair was gleaming. His tall, dark figure towered above him. His white teeth shone like never before in the moonlight...
Those white, white teeth...
Gilderoy's whole body shook. He cowered in his father's shadow, overcome by an uncontrollable fear.
"Out of bed, now, are we?" his fathers voice rose into the silence. The blackness.
He had done it.
His father had killed his mother.
Realization stormed through Gilderoy, and suddenly he gained back his feelings. His thoughts. His emotions.
Gilderoy screamed, whipping around towards the sliding glass door behind his mother. A strong, calloused hand clasped unto his shirt, twirling him around so that he could no longer run.
His father pulled him into his chest, forcing his face to look into his. His teeth were clenched, his eyes piercing. Anger stormed through him like Gilderoy had never seen before.
A tear rolled down Gilderoy's cheek. He could no longer move. Fear froze him. His teeth chattered. His tears flowed. His father's voice once again lifted into the night air... and then, just like that...
"Say goodbye...
to your memories..."
A/N: Reviews are nice. Hint Hint
