Chapter 5 ~ Scars

I awoke with a jolt, darkness surrounding. After blinking rapidly and taking much needed gasps of breath, my eyes began to focus. I could just make out the figures in the beds, and Crabbe and Goyle's synchronized snoring. My head throbbed painfully and I groaned softly. Aren't people supposed to grow out of nightmares? I shook my head, and stood up. No-one ever 'grows out' of nightmares. They just learn how to deal with them.

I walked into the bathroom rubbing my temples, before splashing my face with water. The mirror hung just above, and I glanced up. A tired looking boy with a hard expression on his face stared back at me. His eyes were cold and his jaw was set. And his shirt was… ripped. Cursing under my breath, I glanced down at my shoulder where a small hole in my shirt had formed. I sighed and touched the frayed edge.

The rip had not been there the night before, and I could only assume that I had somehow ripped it when I was asleep. A very small rise of my skin made me pause for a moment, and my eyebrows furrowed. Looking back into the mirror I leaned in closer and looked at my shoulder. I couldn't see anything. Sighing, I reached back to my shirt and pulled it off over my head, throwing it carelessly to the floor.

I once again looked into the mirror, looking over my shoulder. There. Leaning closer I saw what I had felt only moments ago. There were four very small rises on my flesh, hardly visible, but long. I traced the marks with my finger, following them across my shoulder and down my back.

A woman paced quickly around the room, her hands clenched together tightly. She muttered to herself quickly, words mixing together in a long drawl. Her dark hair was everywhere and a small boy sat quietly in a corner of the room. "No, no ... Non possono fare questo..." she muttered to herself, breathing quickly and harshly. Blaise didn't like to see his mother in such distress, and he watched as she paced, his eyes locked on her.

She ran her fingers through her curly hair and then snapped them, her mind racing. She paused for a moment, before muttering to herself again "naturalmente, naturalmente!" Wheeling around, she spoke to Blaise, quietly "Dear, we have visitors this evening. They are going to be looking at things in our house, and I want you to stay very quiet, and not say a word. Do you understand?" she said, and Blaise watched her for a moment more before nodding slowly.

"…Good, come along" she replied, and she began to smooth her hair down. Blaise stood up from his chair and walked over to his mother's side, dragging his feet slowly. The boy had barely any sleep for a few nights, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he turned and gave his mother the best smile he could manage to assure her everything was going to be alright. There was a pause and Belladonna stared at her son.

Her gaze was cold, and cutting. "…You're smiling" she finally said, and Blaise's smile immediately faltered. "Of all the things, that could possibly go wrong…" she said, her eyes slipping closed briefly, rubbing her temples. Blaise pursed his lips, not liking where this was going. Belladonna's chocolate eyes flashed open once more and she spoke, her tone harsh. "Do you want me to go to Azkaban, Blaise?! Is that what you want?! Your mother dead?!" she said, taking a step towards him.

Taking a step back, Blaise's eyes widened as he watched his mother unfold. "You should be crying, Blaise! Crying! Your father just died! But no, tears are too much to ask of Blaise, and he is smiling!" She said, her voice getting louder and stronger. Blaise wasn't exactly sure who she was talking to anymore. "Is it so hard to ask… for some tears?!" she said, roughly pushing Blaise into the brick wall behind him.

Blaise gasped in pain as his back connected to the wall. His back hurt immensely and he stared up at his mother through frightened eyes. Belladonna leaned down and stared Blaise straight in the eye, her voice had lowered now, though she spoke in a crazed tone. "Come on, Blaise. Cry. Do what mummy is doing. Cry like mummy, Blaise" she spoke, her ice-cold eyes welling with tears that quickly overflowed and streamed down her cheeks.

Blaise was frozen with shock and he stared at his mother, watching the tears cascade down her cheek, her dark eyes wild and deranged. "Cry, boy!" his mother shouted, hitting him across the face. Blaise cried out in pain, his own eyes then filling with tears. His face stung from the blow and he raised his hands in a weak attempt to shield himself. His mother put her hands on his shoulder, her face tense, her long nails digging deeply into his flesh.

Her voice dropped again, and she watched Blaise as she slowly brought her hand across his shoulder, his fresh blood seeping out from the cuts her nails had made. Once again crying out in pain, Blaise began to sob, his tears covering his face. Belladonna closed her eyes once more, and her head suddenly snapped at the sound of a crack that came from outside. She finally retracted her nails from his skin, taking a step back from him.

Blaise dropped onto his knees, sobbing, blood oozing from the four deep cuts along his shoulder; his back and face already beginning to bruise. "Come, Blaise" Belladonna ordered, her voice once again calm and steady. "We have visitors" she said, and with that, she left the room, leaving Blaise cowered on the floor behind her.

Dropping my fingers from the scar, I sighed softly and looked back into the mirror. Finally I turned and walked swiftly back to bed, ignoring my ripped shirt on the ground, hoping I might be able to get a few more moments of rest before dawn broke.