A Little Bit of Magic [siriusblackxreader]

4 - Strange Noises

Once a month Y/n usually experienced sleepless nights, being awoken by peculiar and strange noises echoing among the darkness. She would leap from her bed, tear the curtains back, swing open the window and poke her head into the black, starry abyss. Few to no lights in the village were ever visible but the noises were always so distinct she had convinced herself that they were beyond imagination. 

They all began about a year or two ago; Y/n was neatly tucked into her bed, cocooned within a warm and fluffy blanket about to go to sleep when deafening and unmissable uproar hurtled down her chimney - breaking the peace encasing the cottage. The following morning she'd asked members of the village if they'd heard it too and in defence of her sanity, they had. 

At first Y/n believed it was something prowling violently in Hogwarts' Forbidden Forest or nestled in some trees down the hill. Could it be an unheard of monthly unicorn fight? Or a colony of thestrals battling for territory? Or manticores seeking refuge from greater predators? Maybe they were the predators hunting for a monthly helping of prey? 

She'd questioned all sorts but no book nor wizard folk worth talking to in her neighbourhood showed any signs of understanding or ideas for uncovering the reality of the causation for her sleepless nights. 

The noises changed throughout the hours of the night. Sometimes they were recognisable for howls, sometimes screams of agony and terror, sometimes what sounded like incomprehensible shouting, and sometimes tortuous shrieks that would make the hairs tracing her body to stand on end like they were attempting to rid themselves from her skin. Y/n hated having to hear the shrieks. They rebounded every surface in the house, rarely ceasing until early hours of the morning or when dawn broke. 

Y/n constantly felt as though her skin was being teared off her being from the sounds of suffering - she wished for it to stop, an end to come for the pain of the one hurting. If she knew who or what was causing the sounds, she might be able to help them.

Today was going to be that night. 

She was perched in an armchair with her mother's borrowed shawl lazily draped around her shoulders, her hands cupped a mug of steaming hot chocolate, and the fire busily crackling was mesmerising. Y/n was trembling in her seat, awaiting for the horrors to commence; there was no point settling in bed if she wasn't going to catch a wink. By now her mug had been drained, stained rings marked its interior. Her ears were on high alert for anything that was disturbing the silence and at least an hour from that point had passed when it began. 

Shrill roars penetrated the area, Y/n eyes were peeled wide open - not flickering nor leaving the flames. She was afraid that if she steered away for a second, the sounds would get worse, come closer. More pain might be emitted from the noisemaker, she would have to endure listening to the torture to which she could do nothing to terminate. 

And then Y/n did something she'd never expected her body to do. It was like her body was moving faster than her brain and her mind was struggling to catch up and tell her limbs to 'slow down'. She stood up, drawing the shawl closer to her neck, and strode to the window. 

Moonlight: a fascinating thing as the moon isn't a light source, it simply steals a reflection from the sun. The brighter side of life. But the moon's said theft is never viewed negatively or as a bad thing, that's why the brightness is everlasting, that's why it continues to glow.

The cloudless sky allowed the moon to beam to its fullest - it was mesmerising. However the distinct feeling of peace was replaced by the shivers evoked by distant howling. It was impossible to tell whether the noises were cascading up or down the hill. 

She ran her hand along the wall, feeling for her cloak hanging from a hook. She replaced her shawl with the black velvet material and flipped up the hood so her face was completely shadowed within the gaping hole. Out of instinct when leaving her home, she seized her wand and clasped it to her chest so there was no chance of it suddenly disappearing.