minnow // sirius black

fifty-five

A/N - The last chapters will be VERY long. This one is over 8,000 words, without this a/n. Enjoy!!

55 ;   twenty-one

That nightmare reminded me of something I had allowed myself to forget. That nightmare reminded me of an anger I had allowed myself to let go. I had put that rage on the back burner, on purpose, so it didn't cloud my judgement anymore than my grief already had. 

But that nightmare, which did become one of the most recurring nightmares of mine, forced that anger to the forefront of my mind. 

It stewed for weeks. I refrained from acting on it, for the sole reason that Aubrey needed me, Esme needed me. I was fully aware that acting on that anger would be extremely dangerous. Still, it was burning the very core of my soul. 

It felt like a never ending itch that I couldn't scratch. The kind of itch that makes a person go mad. It reminded me of a leaking sink that never stopped dripping, no matter how many times it was fixed. The anger was slow burning, the kind that takes over any thoughts, and it forces itself to be unforgettable. I was always thinking about how deep that anger ran, how it had embedded itself into my veins. 

All of that anger was directed at two people; Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. 

My cousin-in-law killed them. She murdered them with zero hesitation, a complete lack of remorse, and absolutely no sign of resignation. She just did not care, and likely enjoyed it. She murdered them sadistically, rubbing it in my mother's face that my daughter would grow up without her.

The Dark Lord ordered her to kill them, to hurt me. Not because they were openly working to defeat him - they were too old and tired to be active members of the Order, though they supported the cause. Not because they were Muggle-born, both of my parents were from Pureblood descent, my father's line intertwining with the Black line. They were both just as pureblooded as Bellatrix was, if not more. Not because they had ever crossed him directly. 

Only because they were my parents. Because they loved me, and supported me, and helped me. Only because their deaths would cause me pain. He did it to hurt me. 

I wasn't sure who I hated more, though part of me was sure that it was him. Bellatrix had been the one to do it, because Voldemort is too much of a coward to risk facing me, or anyone, directly. But he told her to do it, and he had no reasoning other than to harm me. 

His cowardice made him easier to hate. 

"Jem?"

Sirius had become concerned about how often I had been zoning out with a murderous look on my face. I didn't blame him, I would have felt the same way if I was him. 

He avoided asking, and I suspected that he knew what was on my mind. I had kept it a secret that I knew who killed my parents, even from James. I knew it was wrong to keep that information from James, but he was impulsive to a fault. I was, at least, aware of the dangers of being so impulsive about this. I was aware that if I wasn't careful, I could end up severely injured, or even dead. 

James didn't have that critical thinking. 

I pulled myself from my thoughts, forcing the anger to take a seat for a while. It was obnoxious as hell, as there was nothing I could do. I could not go after either of them, no matter how badly I wanted to. My magic was unpredictable, and it was all I could do to avoid an incident with breaking a vase. If I came face to face with Bellatrix, I would completely lose control. I would most certainly kill her, and likely several other people.