InsaneJournal

Who: Sirius and James^Knap
What: Future memory of them killing Bellatrix
When: Saturday evening
Where: Eventually James' room
Warnings: Violence



Days bled into weeks into months into ... not years. Not yet. Not again. Sirius blinked furtively as his bike sliced through the torrents of rain coming down. He was soaked to the bone already, denim and leather sticking thick and heavy to his skin. He could scarcely see anything around him, but he knew where he was anyway. Some part of him implicitly knew, could feel it in the pit of his stomach: back in London. They'd been everywhere else, so why not? France, Italy, any place their family owned land and property. They'd only danced around the coast of English soil though. But they were back now, and Sirius didn't need any hidden notes, any taunting threats, to tell him that this journey was leading them back to Grimmauld Place.

The ancestral Black family house, where they'd pretended to play family for all those years. But even, only one of them could really own it. Only one of them could decide the out come of the family. Continue to rot under Bellatrix or be exterminated under Sirius.

He landed and the instant he was on the stoop of Grimmauld Place, one of the runes on his left arm began to burn red hot. He slipped out his wand, holding it tightly in cold and wet fingers. He opened the front, listening to its creak echo throughout the mansion. It was odd being back here. The ghosts seemed to clutter it, too close to the surface. It looked just like how they had left it a year ago. Scattered glass here, open back there. But there was a thin layer of dust that lingered across everything.

He could hear the clink of a glass upstairs, light shining from his office. She didn't try to mask where she was. Sirius started up the stairs, each step practically a thunderclap. In the same regard, she had to know he was here. The door was open just a crack and Sirius rested a hand on it, pressing it open all the way. He caught only a glimpse of her, standing against his desk, glass of amber liquid in hand, before a searing curse caught him hard across the right side of his face. His cheek opened up as his hand snapped to the side, his blood spattering across the carpet.

He looked up -- she still just leaned against his desk -- and he shot out a flash of light. It missed her entirely and it careened into his bookcase instead. Something exploded, sending glass shrapnel slicing through the air. Bellatrix ducked and flitted toward him instantly, her dress a shadow of black surrounding her. The burning hex caught him on the left shoulder. He smelled his jacket burning, but ignored it, concentrating on maintaining his balance. He had been thrown to the side a bit. He pivoted and wound up with his wand dug into his cousin's ribs.

"Crucio," he hissed, watching as she collapsed in front of him, spasms racking her body from head to toe. He took half a step back and directed his wand at hers, catching it deftly in his free hand. She stared up at him from the floor, eyes glinting madness, teeth splashed with blood from where her lower lip had split. He stared right back at her, pointed his wand at her once again, and slashed her left cheek open, using the same curse she had used when he had entered the room.