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The Writing Desk by academica
Chapter 1 : Alohomora
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 11


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He attempted to step softly in his black boots, levitating the suitcase a few inches in front of him. His surroundings were pitch dark, and the air felt stale and suffocating. The little bit of moonlight that crept in through the tall windows guided his way down the stairs. It looked and sounded like the coast was clear. He would soon be at the door.

Sirius wondered if the house would change once all traces of him were gone from it.

There had been no true catalyst; he had been carefully planning his exit for most of his life, even before his Sorting cleanly split his branch away from the family tree. He packed little by little, notified James of the date, bought an old motorbike from a Muggle. Adrenaline woke him close to first light, later than expected.

As he turned the corner, he noticed a writing desk against the wall. His mother, who was quite fond of handwritten communication, had never used it. Curious, he stepped over to the desk, putting his suitcase lightly on the floor. He dragged a fingertip along the top, blowing the dust softly off his finger and watching it sink to the floor. He began to open the drawers, wincing slightly as they creaked. All empty, except the last one. Locked.

He should go. Dawn was coming. Why was he still here? Alohomora, he whispered.

When he pulled on the drawer, darkness swallowed him up. He fell back against the floor, praying he had not knocked over his heavy suitcase. He lay still for a few moments, listening for the continued quiet in the house. They were all still asleep, or so it seemed. No small feet scrambled obediently to check for an intruder. Useless.

When he sat up, Sirius had to keep himself from screaming.

Blood covered the walls of the little room, splattered haphazardly like paint on the faded, ugly wallpaper. Bodies were stashed around him, contorted and twisted with broken limbs and blank faces. He didnít need to get close to recognize each of them. Lily, James, Remus, Peter, all of them looking at him with blame in their empty eyes.

Sirius grabbed frantically for his wand, finding it under the desk. He could not summon the correct spell; he knew it, but could find no way to make himself laugh. Instead, he grasped his suitcase and ran for the door, desperately panting as he closed it.

As the darkness faded, the sun coming up through the windows, the scene in the drawing room disappeared as well. Walburga would discover the bottom drawer in the desk open when she woke, likely before she noticed her eldest son was missing. She would lock it back from afar, having avoided coming close to it since the day she inherited it from her dead grandmother, the day it had been moved into her home.

If only she could get rid of itóbut it was a Black family heirloom. It was priceless.




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