Thread: Runaway
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Old January 22nd, 2007, 3:21 am
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witchsmart  Female.gif witchsmart is offline
Sixth Year
Join Date: 19th October 2006
Location: The Library
Age: 28
Posts: 1,418
Re: Runaway

Chapter Two

The small square in front of several decaying houses was deserted, expect for a single, stray black cat that was wandering around, hoping to find some discarded bits of food for its meager supper. Suddenly it sprang up with a hiss and sprinted away as two figures abruptly appeared in the middle of the square, as if they had simply stepped out of the air.

“Come on, hurry up!” snapped Sirius’ mother, walking briskly towards the tall, dirty house between houses Number 11 and 13. Sirius sourly followed his mother up to the front steps of Number 12, Grimmauld, his home.

“Filthy muggles, I can’t think with that confounded contraption of theirs blasting out that rubbish and disturbing the entire neighborhood!”

What she was actually referring to was some quiet jazz that was coming from a radio inside Number 11. Sirius actually enjoyed listening to muggle music, but he would never dare to say that to his mother. She would hex him and lock him in his room for a week before he could say, “Oops.”

Wrenching open the front door, Mrs. Black made her way through the main hall, almost bumping into the house-elf who had suddenly appeared at the door.

Cursing loudly, Mrs. Black roughly kicked aside the elf, who merely sprang back up again and followed his mistress as she continued to storm through the house. It was an old house-elf, with only a few gray hairs poking up out of his wrinkled scalp. What hair he didn’t have on his head, he made up for with the bunches of gray hairs that sprouted out of his huge, batlike ears. Kreacher, for that was his name, wore no clothes, for a house-elf who is given clothes is considered to be a freed elf, and therefore unfit for work. So instead of clothes, Kreacher wore a filthy loincloth that was draped around his withered body. As he following his mistress upstairs to her room, he constantly muttered to himself, although his words were perfectly audible to Sirius, who was still standing in the main hall.

“Kreacher is so glad that his Mistress has returned. But oh, Mistress has brought back the young Master. Oh how Kreacher hates him, disgracing the noble name of Black. Oh poor Kreacher’s Mistress, she loathes him so. Hanging about with half-breeds and mudbloods at that disgraceful school. Oh, how he shames her so. My poor, poor Mistress . . .”

But these words meant nothing to Sirius. He had heard them all before, from Kreacher, from his mother, and from his father. Still in a state of depression, Sirius dragged his suitcase up the stairs, past the heads of old house-elves that were mounted on the walls, and into his own room.

It was a plain room, with no decorative wallpaper, no paintings or posters on the walls. Just fading, brown wallpaper that was beginning to peel off. Sirius threw his suitcase onto his bed, which groaned loudly as the springs bent and stretched.

How he hated it there. It wasn’t his home, it was a prison. Hogwarts was his home, with all of his friends. They were his real family, not those selfish, big-headed idiots that a cruel twist in fate had delivered him to. Here he could do nothing, there was no one he could talk to, the only living creatures in 12 Grimmauld Place were his parents, Kreacher, and his stupid little brother, Regulus. But of course, Regulus was the perfect son. Sirius’ parents loved Regulus much more than him, they always had. Regulus Black, was clever, wonderful, and had a perfect sense of who he was. At least, that’s how they saw him. Sirius saw his younger sibling as an annoying, kiss-up, who would do anything to please his mother. And Sirius was nothing more than a disgrace of a son who didn't know his place.

Walking over to the small, grimy window set into one of the walls, Sirius stared out of it, gazing at the large, luminescent moon. It was almost full, how Sirius wished that he could be with his friends. Then they could all go out for a midnight run together, like they did on every full moon at Hogwarts.

But there was some joy in his otherwise depressing life at home. As Sirius gazed out of the window, he could see a faint shadow against the moon. A lone owl was making its way to the Black family household, and it had a letter for him.

I'll try to get the next chapter in soon!


Twins on a Train
Working With the Weasleys
No Chance

Proud member of OFINOA (Obsessed Fans In Need Of Avatar)

Last edited by witchsmart; January 24th, 2007 at 3:44 am.
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