Q: What do you get when you combine a boring day, a virtually empty office, and a hung-over assistant obsessed with the Black sisters?
A: Apparently, you get badly written angst.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Taken
They take the golden days before Hogwarts, my memories of being naive and innocent, for even I was innocent once, I must have been.
They take an indolent summer afternoon, with the smell of freshly cut grass and the sun so warm we throw off even the lightest summer robes to bask in it. That touch of sunlight on the skin, I can't remember it, not in here, where there is no sunlight, nothing but dark and cold.
They take the brush of Andy's cotton nightgown as she climbs into my bed during a thunderstorm, insisting she's not afraid even as she curls herself up and buries her face in my shoulder. They take her sigh then, as I hug her, her perfect faith that I can protect her.
They take the perfect golden silk of Cissy's hair, that slips though my fingers like water when I try to braid it for her. They take her giggle as she turns her head playfully, knowing how it frustrates me, her surprised squeal when I tug too hard.
They take a long winter evening before the fire, with the whirl of snow outside and the coziness of wrapping in soft blankets. The take the smell of hot cocoa and the heavy warmth of a sleeping child, as Sirius drowses leaning against me.
They take the feeling of sand between my toes and the sprays of salty water from some long forgotten seaside holiday. They take Andy's sandcastles and Cissy's huge sunglasses.
They take my Cissy's first ball, her infectious excitement and her little girl dress robes, all lace and ribbon. They take Andy twirling in front of the mirror and the childish joy of shiny patent-leather shoes.
They take Andy's singing to herself as she reads, Cissy's antics as she prances around my room, Sirius's unrestrained laughter at some prank of his own devising. They take the childhood games in the gardens when nothing was beyond imagination.
They take the time when I knew how to love. They take away what it felt like to be loved.
They leave me with only Andy's betrayal, and Cissy's desertion. They leave me with Regulus's death and Sirius's hatred.
They leave me with the screams of people I've tortured and killed. They fill the cell, ricocheting off the stone walls, creeping into my head, and in them I find refuge from the memories I've lost.