The Sugar Quill
Author: Mispelled  Story: What Chocolate Can't Cure  Chapter: Default
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An icy, horrible felling sweeps through you in a shiver. It crawls up your spine and you don't know if you are having a nightmare, or reliving the most terrible moments of your life.

Echoes and sights from the past pound your senses, and you question whether or not you will ever see the happy times again.

"YOU'LL DO IT IF I HAVE TO BEAT IT OUT OF YOU."

"He's five years old, Lucius."

"Shut your mouth, woman."

He turn around, his fist still raised, and let it fall hard across her cheek. The small boy shuddered violently.

"DON'T HURT MUM!" his high voice yelled with out the command that he wanted to convey.

"You dare take a tone with me? YOU DARE TO RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE FOOL?"

He again shrank into the corner. His father lifted him by the collar, pinning him eye-level against the wall. He felt himself being shaken hard.

"You're going to be worthless. Absolutely meaningless. A disgrace."

Hot tears pricked at his eyes. Terror was overtaking every ounce of courage in his body.

Gotta get down. Gotta get down. Gotta get down. The thought over and over to himself.

The voices grow softer. The cold ebbs away, but the unsettled happiness still hovers like a dark cloud. Then the warmth that has returned fades away again. Sheets of ice cold rain pour down on you, not numbing the frozen feeling as you are left to walk at the end of a stream of students.

"CRUCIO!"

"NOW, LONGBOTTOM, WHAT DO YOU KNOW?" a young voice screamed impatiently.

"I-am--not going--to be--V-Voldemort's p--puppet."

"CRUCIO!"

Screams. Cold, pain filled screams.

You hear, but don't understand them. Your father is suffering, but you can't understand why. You begin to wail, almost feeling a lost pain of your own. Then he stops, but it's not any better.

You hear screaming again. Your mother is screaming. And crying. Her screams grow more and more weak ... and more sick. You can hear her becoming more and more ill.

"Crucio."

Screams of the most horrible pain imaginable. From your cradle, you cry wordlessly for help. The only word you've learned is "Daddy."

And finally you get inside. Your thoughts are haunting you with every step and every sound of every voice.

Again, the misery of the rain brings a horrible, miserable cold. The same feelings that break your sweet and trusting nature return. You shake uncontrollably recalling the most terrible moment of your life.

"What am I going to do now? I'm going to be expelled. I can't remember. Oh... I have to tell them."

The boy gave her a twisted smile, "Don't worry. Just let it out."

"What am I going to do. I've got to get out. I have to tell… I have to tell Ron…"

She was exhausted and terrified. She felt so weak and so terrible that she could hardly sit up anymore.

"TOM, LET ME OUT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO! I need to…I… help—tell…" she had sunken to the ground, her strength fading rapidly.

All that was left were the twisting images of her mind as the energy drained from her.

The shimmering silver form is hardly visible in the pouring rain, but you see the blur drive away the dark hooded forms. And you wait for the warmth to return.

 

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