Escape from Grimmauld Place

29.4K 1.3K 3.8K
                                    

Escape from Grimmauld Place



Sirius had never packed so quickly in his life. He jammed all that he could into his bag - shrinking some of the larger things with a good reducio, like the record player and his broom - and hurriedly pulled the cloak 'round his shoulders and head. He crept to the bedroom door and took a deep breath as he unfolded the penknife, revealing the blade, which gleamed in sunlight coming in his window. Out there, outside that very window, James and Remus were waiting for him. His hands were shaking with excitement and relief as he drew the blade into the crack of the door, and he held his breath, waiting for the click of the lock.

Click.

He'd never been so relieved to hear that sound in all his life. He peeked through the keyhole to be sure the landing was empty, then pulled open the door and stepped out into the stairwell, twisting the knob as the he closed the door behind him so that it wouldn't make a sound reuniting with the frame. He crept carefully to the rail and looked down the spiraling center of the case, listening carefully. Far below, Walburga and Orion were talking in hushed voices. Sirius had to be very, very quiet if he wanted to make it out of the house. He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

You can do this. You can do it. You've gotten past Filch and Mrs. Norris and even Dumbledore himself in this cloak. You can do this. And at the other end of it is James. And Remus.

The first two steps were easy. The third had a creak on the left side so Sirius had to be very gently stepping on it. The fourth, fifth, sixth steps he took gently, clutching the rail, he carefully stretched his legs to skip the seventh and he stood on the landing one down from his room. Regulus's bedroom door was shut, the light coming from beneath the door left a glow on the dusty landing. Sirius inched to the rail again and listened.

"....and it doesn't matter that the old fool has disappeared and it's not my fault he's got some place to run. It's still my head that rolls if we don't find him! And the Dark Lord grows impatient! I let the Boy get away once already and now this --" Orion's voice was worn and laced with stress. "I don't know how much more he will take of it, Walburga."

"I understand," came Walburga's whisper. "But he must be able to see -- must give you a chance to --"

"I'm on my last chance," Orion hissed.

They were in Walburga's library, the door pulled nearly to, only a crack open. Slowly, Sirius clutched the banister as he moved, knowing the stairs at the top of this flight were the noisiest of all. He held his breath... one... step... at... a... time...

His foot touched the second to the last step before the landing and it groaned. Loudly.

He froze. His heart hammered in his chest. He closed his eyes.

The door to the library swung open, pouring light into the dark stairwell. The silhouette of Orion Black filled the frame and he looked around, his eyes skimming the stairs. He breathed deeply, sniffing the air, and Sirius clung to the rail, basically hanging on by his fingertips to the slick mahogany, barely on his toes. Orion took a step forward, closer to Sirius.

Heart in his throat, Sirius squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as he could, knowing if he was found here, now, having overheard the conversation that his parents were having, he was as good as dead. They wouldn't bother cruciatusing him. They'd just avada kedavra him and get it over with. He was so scared, he could almost see the green light of the spell, almost taste the blood in his mouth... Walburga appeared in the doorway behind him and she asked, "What is it?"

"I thought I heard the stairs just now," Orion replied. He turned, looking up the flight, right past Sirius, who was holding his breath, certain his father could hear the pounding of his heart against his ribcage.

The Marauders: Year FourWhere stories live. Discover now