Glass Houses

Chapter twenty

The cold metal of the chair bit into Sirius' skin as he watched Moony place the syringe back on the small table. His neck ached slightly from where the serum had been injected, and his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as he gripped the bottom of the chair.

"The simulation can't hurt you," Moony said softly, more reserved than usual after the night before. If he even remembered the things he'd said. "Remember that."

But he was wrong.

Sirius still dreamt of his last simulation, the crowd clapping and clapping as he screamed, his hand red with blood as his mother smiled at him. He knew the other initiates would agree with him. More than once he'd awoken to the sound of someone whimpering in their sleep.

But all Sirius could do was nod as his eyes became too heavy to keep open.

Sirius' eyes snapped open, and he turned his head to the side, still laying on his back, except he wasn't in the chair anymore.

He was in his bedroom.

It was exactly as he remembered it, the book left on his bedside table, the thin cracks in the ceiling, it even smelt the same, like the bars of soap that never ran out in the bathroom, and something else that Sirius was sure only existed in his room.

He went to get up, but was tugged down by some invisible force. His breathing quickened as he tried to move his legs, and though there were no visible restraints, no amount of effort could move them. He was trapped on his bed, in his room, in the house. His glass house.

"Reg!" he called, thinking of his brother's room next to his. "Reg help!"

But unlike all the times Sirius had called to his brother, there was no exasperated sigh, there was no rustle as Regulus walked to the door, and there were definitely no footsteps down the hall.

Until there were.

Sirius' breathed out as he watched the door handle turn slowly.

"Hurry up then," he said, "I don't really know what's happened but-"

The door swung open, and instead of a view into the white painted hallway, there was only darkness. A black void in the doorway that was so empty that the more Sirius looked into it, the more he felt dread seep into every part of him.

"Reg?" he whispered, as a shoe slowly stepped out from the darkness.

But it wasn't Regulus who came into Sirius' room. It was Walpurga.

Coming out of the black doorway like a demon from hell, she stood still, staring at Sirius with cold eyes and a haunting smile that stretched her lips too far across her face. Her hair was down, which was possibly the most jarring thing about it all. Walpurga always wore her hair in a tight bun on the back of her head, no strands coming loose, no stubborn pieces sticking up.