Chapter 29: Dreamscapes, Memories and Nightmares (pt 4)

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18 December 1993
Longbottom Manor
4:15 p.m.

By this point, Sirius Black had been essentially trapped in Augusta Longbottom's parlor for nearly two hours with only taxidermied animals for company, and he'd nearly made himself sick on watercress sandwiches and petits fours. He was quite annoyed with Hoskins, but also with himself, as he'd gradually come to realize how the elf had manipulated him into remaining in this room. Sirius was amazed – first Dobby and now Hoskins. He would need to seriously reassess his views on house elves at this rate.

The door out of the parlor remained stubbornly closed despite all the lock-picking Charms he knew, but it turned out that even returning to Grimmauld Place was no option either. The box next to the fireplace that held the Floo powder was also spelled shut, and it, like the door exiting the parlor, was warded against him. But perhaps the most disturbing moment was when he tried looking through the keyhole to the corridor beyond and saw Hoskins just standing there watching the door with uncanny focus. Sirius didn't know if Hoskins could see through the door to watch him directly, but at this point, anything seemed possible. He was just about to admit defeat and simply call for Hoskins to ask for Floo powder so he could return home when, suddenly, there was a loud pop from the other side of the door. Sirius bent down to look through the keyhole again and confirmed that the elf had apparated away, no doubt after being summoned by Regulus or one of the others.

Then, Sirius's eyes widened, and he slapped his hand against his head.

"Merlin, Sirius, what an idiot you are!" he said to himself. "You've got a wand now! You can apparate!"

He pulled his wand out and focused his mind on the place in the manor he knew the best: the room he'd stayed in for several weeks right after his liberation from Azkaban.

"Destination, Determination and Deliberation," he muttered softly while clenching his wand tightly. Then, there was the all-too-familiar sensation of being crushed from all sides, and at once, Sirius realized what a terrible mistake he'd made. This was the first time he'd attempted apparition since his incarceration twelve years before. Which meant it was the first time he'd experienced the intensely claustrophobic sensation of apparition since he'd begun his long imprisonment in a tiny miserable cell in the worst prison in the world.

Barely a second later, he rematerialized in his former bedroom only to fall to the ground in an absolute panic and terror. He looked wildly around the room, but his resurgent trauma colored his perceptions. One second, he was in an empty yet familiar bedroom, but one seen reflected in a funhouse mirror, constantly twisting and moving. In the next second, everything around him darkened to the color of grey stone, and he was back in his cell waiting for the Dementors to return. Desperately, he crawled over to the door (whenever he was able to perceive a door rather than metal bars), and with a supreme effort, he pulled it open and fell outside ... only to find himself in one of Azkaban's labyrinthine corridors. Slowly, he pulled himself up off the floor to stagger down the hall, shaking in his delirium.

"Focus, Black! Gotta ... gotta keep movin'! Or the D...dementors'll get ya! ... HARRY!" He picked up speed as he staggered almost drunkenly down the hallway, occasionally stumbling and bouncing off the walls and furniture. From somewhere behind, he thought he heard movement approaching. Terrified, he held up his wand.

"EX... EXPECTO ... PAT...PATRONUM!" he cried out, but no Patronus appeared. The cold chill of a Dementor washed over him. Not a real Dementor, for there were none nearby, but the sense memory of one (not that Sirius could possibly tell the difference at this point). He picked up his pace, desperate to flee the tormentors that existed only in his mind. Soon, the sensation of the Dementor chill was joined by voices drawn from Sirius's twelve years of nightmares.

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